#campus/con crud

[sicktember]

Sicktember 2024 Prompt-Based Resources to Help You Get Started! 💚

**Sicktember 2023 prompt-based resources can be found [Here]

Hangovers

What is a hangover [niaaa.nih.gov]

15 hangover horror stories [buzzfeed.com]

7 ways to cure your hangover [health.harvard.edu]

How to Write a Drunk Character [allwritealright.com]

Over Indulgence

Dealing with Food hangovers [health.usnews.com]

4 Ways to Stop Digestive Discomfort  [michiganmedicine.org]

I Ate Too Much. Now What Do I Do? [osfhealthcare.org]

Is It Possible… Stomach Explode? [popsci.com]

Campus/Con Crud

Crushing the Campus Crud [hercampus.com]

So What is Con Crud  [granitcon.com]

Coming Down With the Crud  [bmhsc.org]

Rogue Organs

What Is Appendicitis? [hopkinsmedicine.org]

Gallbladder Removal [nhs.uk]

Tonsillectomy [mayoclinic.org]

Spleen Problems and Removal [nhs.uk]

Dizziness/Vertigo

Understanding Vertigo [on.bluecross.ca]

Types of Vertigo [acare.abbott.com]

Dizziness vs. Vertigo [cornerstonephsio.com]

Medieval Treatment

Medicine in the Middle Ages [ncbi.nlm.nih.gov]

6 Medieval Medical Practices [guavahealth.com]

Healing Power of Maggots/Leeches (Modern) [mountainview-hospital.com]

When Medicine was Humorous [merryfarmer.wordpress.com]

Mononucleosis

About Mono [cdc.gov]

Mono For Teens [kidshealth.org]

How to Test for Mono [mountsinai.org]

Sick People Food

What People Around the World Eat When Sick [businessinsider.com]

Sick Day Foods Across the Globe  [nyubiteclub.com]

8 Best Foods to Eat When Feeling Sick [forbes.com]

Toxin/Poison

Poisons and Toxins [sciencelearn.org]

Poisoning. What The Doctors Do [thedoctorwillseeyounow.com]

Common HouseHold Poisons [cincinnatichildrens.org]

FAQs Carbon Monoxide Poisoning [cdc.gov]

Brain Fog/Spaced Out

What is Brain Fog [everydayhealth.com]

Understanding Brain Fog [henryford.com]

Causes of Zoning Out [verywellhealth.com]

Aches And Pains

What Causes Body Aches When Sick? [uclahealth.org]

5 Tips For Writing About Physical Pain [louiseharnbyproofreader.com]

Hypochondriac tendencies

Illness Anxiety Disorder [my.clevelandclinic.org]

Signs You May be a hypochondriac [centerforanxietydisorders.com]

10 Health Anxiety Myths  [happiful.com]

How To Write Anxiety [writerscookbook.com]

Anaphylactic Response

What is Anaphylaxis  [betterhealth.vic.gov.au]

Anaphylactic Shock: What You Need to Know [healthline.com]

Waiting Rooms

What happens in the emergency department [advocatehealth.com]

Triage and Emergency Assessment  [ncbi.nlm.nih.gov]

Setting Description: Emergency Waiting Room [writershelpingwriters.net]

Summer Flu

Can You Get the Flu in the Summer? [verywellhealth.com]

Leisure Sickness  [avogel.ca]

Catching a Cold When It’s Warm [newsinhealth.nih.gov]

Heart Condition/Cardiac Arrest

Types of Heart Attacks [www.healthline.com]

Common Heart Conditions [summahealth.org]

What Does a Heart Attack Feel Like? [health.clevelandclinic.org]

How to Describe a Heart Attack in a Story [writingtipsoasis.com]

Pulling a Ferris Bueller

Define Pulling a Ferris Bueller [urbandictionary.com]

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off Summary [gradesaver.com]

10 Things Ferris Bueller Taught Us [dailyedge.ie]

A Note From the Mods [Tumblr Post]

Sick While Traveling

Take Steps to Stay Healthy While Traveling [cdc.gov]

Motion Sickness [sciencefocus.com]

How to Remove Vomit From Car Interior [wikihow.com]

Sick on Vacation Tips [apartmenttherapy.com]

Hospital Bed

How to Write a Hospital Scene [writersdigest.com]

Hospital Bed Components & Safety [robsonforensic.com]

9 Way to Help When Someone is Hospitalized [upstate.edu]

First Aid Kit

Make a First Aid Kit [redcross.org]

Travelers First Aid Kit [hopkinsmedicine.org]

Health Plan and First Aid for College [uh.edu]

Flushed Cheeks

Causes of Facial Flushing [verywellhealth.com]

What Can Cause Flushed Skin?  [medicalnewstoday.com]

Doctor's Note

Obtaining a Dr Note for Work [inhersight.com]

How to Get A Dr. Note for School  [solvhealth.com]

[baubeautyandthegeek]

Teacher Conference Crud Attack - Britta Perry/Michelle Slater

A/N: Day 3 for @sicktember again, bonus fic 1 of 2.

It’s quiet when she wakes up, the slow brush of fingers through her hair keeping her at ease even as she soaks up what happened. Britta is here, she guesses that from how gentle the touch is, her eyes stinging even as she looks up at the girl. “Hi?” “Did I… pass out?” “A little… it’s okay, clearly the con wore you out.” Britta’s smile is soft her voice tender even as she feels Michelle tense in her lap, her voice quiet as she lets her free hand slide over Michelle’s shoulder, drawing soft circles on her bare skin. “Rest, ‘Chelle, I don’t need much right now, just you…” Sleep takes her before she can protest, the con crud hitting her harder than she cared to admit. She wakes later to the bed and Britta curled comfortingly against her side, a soft hand tangled into her sleep shirt, her smile soft as she allows soft fingers to stroke blonde curls from Britta’s eyes. “Thank you, Britta.” She’d known this was a risk, coming home sick to Britta, but the love she’s been shown is worth it all.

[monaisme]

Sicktember: Day 3

#3- Campus/Con Crud

*Saturday afternoon- Cosmic Con*

“How can we even be having this conversation? You go to a smart school.” MJ shook her head in disappointment. “And while I am not actually invested in your health one way or another, I would be remiss in my duties as a human being to not advise you that, if you put that or any other mask on, you are going to catch some funky disease and end up camped out on some random sketchy bathroom floor begging for death.”

Even as they stood amongst the throng of fans pressing against the table filled with 100% American made, guaranteed authentic unauthorized replica masks of every Batman villain in the DC Universe, Peter could not understand her point.

“You’re being paranoid, MJ. Look!” He dropped the much handled mask that was in his hand, and grabbed at one still packed in plastic from closer to the bottom of the pile before pulling it from its packaging. “I’ll even try on a fresh one, just to make you feel better.”

“I know what I said and I meant what I said. I am telling you, Peter. You’ll regret this decision one way or another.”

“But MJ! It’s Bane!” Peter offered up the odorous latex mask to her as though he were offering up a holy relic. “BANE!”

MJ simply took a step back, rolled her eyes, and threw her hands up in defeat. “Whatever, loser. It’s your funeral.”

 Peter glared at his newest friend before looking to Ned for support. “C’mon, Ned. Back me up!”

“What?” Ned startled as he looked up from the enamel pins displayed on the same table. “Oh, yeah, for sure,” he replied, having no clue what was going on. “You know I’ve always got you.”

“See!” Peter waved his arms about wildly as he got even more worked up, “Ned says I’ll be fine!”

MJ cast an unimpressed glance past Peter to Ned, once again focused on his own quarry. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what he said.”

Peter peeked over at Ned, realized it was a lost cause, then tossed the mask back at the table in frustration. “Fine! But when we start planning for Halloween and you’re dressed up as Catwoman and looking to for a villainous DC duo to team up with, remember this moment.”

MJ’s eyes narrowed as she stared down the boy. “I’m sorry?”

Peter gulped as he stared back. Had he failed to mention that she’d play a part in their ultimate DC villain trio—and maybe look way better than either of them while doing it?

Slowly, MJ placed her hands on her hips, her gaze more intense than ever.

Peter blinked, thought for a second, and paled. Yeah, he had definitely said the inside part out loud.

MJ crooked an eyebrow and smiled slyly, “Well then, we can’t risk having that happen, can we. By all means, Peter. Get the mask.”

Peter blinked in disbelief.

Hang on.

This felt like a trap. Was this a trap?

Finally, he had to ask, “Do you mean it?” He gulped and then continued, “You don’t think this will end up killing me or something?”

“Oh, Peter, far be it for me to get in the way of your villain origin story.” Her grin broadened as she stepped back a little further. “I’m gonna head over to Artist Alley while you and Ned finish up with this. Meet me there when you’re done.”

Peter nodded, then ignored the elbows and jostling from the other customers wanting at the table as he watched MJ walk away. “Yeah,” Peter inhaled deeply as he dragged his hand down his face. “I definitely think I’ll need to buy her an apology frozen lemonade for that.” Peter groaned as he absently grabbed at the Bane mask in front of him and focussed again on the table. “But at least our Halloween costumes are set! Hey, Ned, you said you wanted to get Two-Face, right?”

“What?” Ned came back to awareness as Peter grabbed at a still packaged mask to hand over to Ned. “Uh, duh! Thanks, man. It’s gonna be amazing!”

“I know, right?” Peter passed his cash to the vendor for his own mask while Ned gathered up his own extra purchases.

“Right!” Ned repeated, then his forehead scrunched in confusion as he scanned the area. “But hang on a sec? Where did MJ go?”

/-/-/

*The following Monday- Midtown School of Science and Technology*

Something was off. Peter was sure of it.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but his spider senses were pinging just enough that he felt physically uncomfortable— and he was literally only sitting in AP World History.

Mr. Johnson was droning on about something to do with the Mongol Empire with his back turned to the class so he could point something out on the map displayed on the interactive whiteboard so Peter took the risk and shifted quickly to do a quick check of the room from his seat.

But Peter saw nothing.

For a minute, Peter was almost able to convince himself that he was imagining it, but the sense persisted, so he did the only thing he could think to do.

Peter texted Mr. Stark.

After all, that had to be the explanation, right? It wouldn’t have been the first time something big was coming and Peter’s spidey-sense had acted as an early detection system. Iron Man and the other Avengers needed to know, and were going to need him! He was sure of it—

—At least until Mr. Stark replied back to Peter’s text, complaining that the only thing Peter could be sensing was that his mentor was actually dying of boredom in yet another drawn out board meeting that Pepper had forced him into when everyone knew he’d much rather be blowing crap up in his lab and—“wait a minute! get off your phone! you’re supposed to be paying attention!”

Peter scowled and tucked his phone away.

Paying attention to Mr. Johnson was infinitely harder to do when Peter was sure that the world could be ending.

The following class period moved along the same way, with Peter barely paying attention to Ms. Warren as she taught something physics related, he imagined.  His physical discomfort had increased so who could blame him for not being sure, right? Still, he observed the room as best he could, though it seemed that his senses weren’t sensing at all. The anxiety was simply developing into a headache to go along with the muscle and joint pain that had kicked in and Peter couldn’t help but wonder—was this what happened when his senses went repressed? Unacknowledged? He’d never really needed to ignore them before so...

Peter fanned himself with the booklet that had been placed on his desk at some point as he wondered. Someone must have messed with the thermostat in Ms. Warren’s room, on top of it all.

Peter clapped his hands over his ears as the bell sounded for class change, wishing for the millionth time that the school could find something a little less grating on Peter’s super-hearing, and then collected his books and bag to head over to Mr. Harrington’s class. At least he’d have Ned there with him, and if his Guy-in-the-Chair couldn’t help him figure out what was going on, then no one could.

/-/-/

Ned was already in his seat when Peter turned into the doorway and shuffled into class.

“Peter?” Ned looked concerned. “Dude? Are you okay? You look a little... ”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine... it’s just—“ Peter dropped into the desk seat beside Ned and looked suspiciously around the room. His stomach was a churning ball of nerves. “Something’s up and I need an extra set of eyes.”

Ned didn’t hesitate to put a hand to Peter’s forehead before his eyes widened, “I’ll say something’s up! You’ve got a fever!” Ned turned to the front of the classroom and threw his hand up into the air. “Mr. Harrington, Peter’s sick! Can I take him to the nurse?”

Peter blinked in confusion. “What?” Peter put his own head to his forehead, “I’m not sick. It’s my—”

“You’re talkin’ crazy, Peter.” Ned had hefted Peter’s backpack over his own shoulder and grabbed his books before Peter could protest. “Let’s get you out of here.” With that proclamation, Ned hefted Peter to standing by his elbow and ushered him out into the thankfully deserted hallway and closed the door behind them.

“Ned? I mean it! I’m not sick!” Peter tried to pull away but Ned kept a steady hold.

“Shhhh!” Ned double checked that they were alone. “Fine,” he whispered, “Tell me why you think you’re not sick.”

Peter wiped the sweat from his forehead as he straightened himself up. “My senses are telling me that something’s going to happen.”

“Okay?” Ned was listening. “And? Did you tell Mr. Stark about it?”

 “Yes, and he didn’t think it was anything to worry about.” Peter frowned at the recollection.

“Okay? But you’re still convinced. Why?”

“Because my senses are doing something weird!”

“Okay!” Ned pulled Peter further down the hall and away from the door. “Like what?”

“Well, my senses buzzed that something was gonna happen, but now I have a headache and my body is feeling sore and my stomach...” Peter clutched at his stomach and hunched over as it gave a gurgle of warning. “Oh, no.”

With no time to spare, Ned rushed Peter the thirty feet down the hall to the boy’s bathroom, shoved Peter through the stall door, helped to lower him to his knees and backed the hell outta there.

“Oh, f—” Peter couldn’t finish the word before his stomach clenched and forced every food that Peter was certain he’d ever eaten in his entire life out of his body and into the toilet bowl before him. “Please kill me,” he gasped as he flushed the toilet during a brief reprieve from the heaving.

“No can do, Peter, but I can call May for you?”

Ned took the next heave as approval and stepped out of the room.

It was a few minutes before Peter was convinced that his stomach had settled... for now, so he rested his head against his arm on the toilet seat and closed his eyes to catch his breath.

“Knock, knock,” a familiar voice called out as the bathroom door creaked open. “Betty sent me a text saying that you guys had rushed out of the room and I wanted to check in on you.”

Peter brightened, even as he waited to die. “You wanted to check that I was okay?” he croaked out from the stall.

“No, dumbass. I wanted to check that I was right... though kudos to our ridiculously thorough janitor, Mr. Blake, that you didn’t end up on an actual sketchy bathroom floor.” Her focus turned to Ned, who must have snuck in with her when she’d entered, “Tell me, Ned. Has he prayed for death?”

Ned without missing a beat, his cruel answer echoed, “Yup.”

“Awesome.” 

Could Peter hear a little laughter in her tone?

“Oh, and I’ve decided I’ll be going out as a mime for Halloween. It’s an underappreciated art form and deserves to be taken seriously... and because I’m a good person, I’ll email you a copy of the chemistry notes later on.”

“Oh. Thanks?”

“Whatever, nerd,” MJ replied, and exited the bathroom.

Peter was sure there was nothing left to do but wallow in his idiocy and bide his time until someone came to collect his sorry hiney, but then Ned interrupted the silence.

“Uh, Peter?”

“Hmm?”

“Did I miss something there?”

Peter chuckled as he braced himself for the next wave. “Yeah, Ned, you absolutely did.”

[roguesnezblog]

Catching up on Sicktember. This includes the prompts 1-6. I am going to use Judas, Ornel and Tordek and their relationship for the entirity of sicktember. I love these three. Prompt 1: "I'm not sick, i'm just hungover"

Prompt 2: Too much of a good thing.

Prompt 3: Campus/Con crud. (For this I guess Marketplace crud LOL)

Prompt 4: "Great. I got a cold for my birthday."

Prompt 5: Rogue Organ (Tonsillitis)

Prompt 6: Dizziness/Vertigo

[tastydoge]

Last month, I participated in Sicktember!

I wrote 27 fanfictions total in the Don't Starve fandom. It took me about three months to write them all, and I'm still missing three days. It was really hard and time consuming, and I lost a lot of sleep for it, but it was fun.

I put them all into a series for ease of access, and here's a link to that:

Below the cut are links to all of the individual fics w/ their prompts & the involved characters. Hope you find something you like!

Day 1: “I’m not hungover, I’m just sick” (Or vise versa) - Woodlegs

Day 2: Too Much of a Good Thing/Overindulgence - Webber & Wanda

Day 3: Campus/Con Crud - Wanda/Wickerbottom

Day 4: “Great. I Got a Cold for My Birthday.” - Maxwell

Day 5: Rouge Organ (tonsils, spleen, appendix, gall bladder ect…) Alt 5: Doctor’s Note - Winona/Genny

Day 6: Dizziness/Vertigo - Wheeler

Day 7: Borrowed Hoodie - Wilson/WX-78

Day 8: “The closest doctor is probably hours away from here!” - Wickerbottom & The Kids

Day 9: Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker - Wigfrid/Wes

Day 10: The Sniffles ™ - WX-78/Wilson

Day 11: Medieval Treatment - Wonkey

Day 12: “You’re not fine, you’re throwing up/coughing up a lung” - Wolfgang

Day 13: Mononucleosis Alt 4: Flushed Cheeks - Wormwood

Day 14: Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas - Walter & Woodie

Day 15: "Who decided __ is ‘sick people food?’" - Warly & Woodie

Day 16: Toxin/Poison - Wilson/WX-78

Day 17: Brain Fog/Spaced Out - Wilba

Day 18: “My whole body is one big ache.” - Wendy & Maxwell

Day 19: Hypochondriac Tendencies - Wigfrd

Day 20: Medication Bribery - Wurt & WX-78

Day 21: Anaphylactic Response Alt. 3: First Aid Kit - Walani

Day 22: “You didn’t use my cup, did you?” - Reader & Maxwell

Day 23: Under a Spell - Wortox & Willow

Day 24: Tales From the Waiting Room - Woodie

Day 25: Summer Flu - Wendy & Wigfrid

Day 26: Heart Condition/Cardiac Arrest Alt 1: Hospital Bed - Wagstaff & WX-78

Day 27: incomplete

Day 28: incomplete

Day 29: Sick on a Road Trip - Willow

Day 30: Past Prompt of Your Choice! - incomplete

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Fever Just Around the Bend

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59305024 by happyaspie Peter and Tony are on their way home from a Science Conference and Expo. It’s late. Peter wakes requesting a stop. It’s clear he’s not feeling well, even if he tries to brush it off as nothing. Still, Tony worries. “You might have a fever, Bud.” Sicktember 2024 Prompts: 3 Campus/Con Crud 17 Brain Fog/ Spaced Out 25 Summer Flu 29 Sick on a Road Trip Alt 3 First Aid Kit Words: 3142, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 32 of Sicktember 2021-2024 Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Sicktember, Sick Character, Sick Peter Parker, Fever, Common Cold, Road Trips, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Worried Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/59305024

[setsuuestsu]

Sicktember Day #3: Campus/Con Crud

Sickie: Namjoon

Caretaker: Jimin

Word Count: 243

“Joon hyung,” Jimin chastises. “I told you that the crab festival was a bad idea.”

Namjoon sniffles, both from the nasty cold he’s caught from said festival and from the false advertising of the festival. He had assumed it was a festival where all crab lovers would get together and raise funds for the protection of the crabs, not that it was a festival where all crab lovers would get together and eat crab.

“It was totally worth it.” he lamely insists, reaching past Jimin for the tissue box left on the coffee table. He blows his nose, frowning at how unhelpful it was, then slumps back onto the couch.

Thankfully, Jimin takes pity on him and wraps him in a throw blanket hanging off the back of the couch. It smells like Downy and cotton, and he can easily identify it as Jungkook’s. 

He leans into his elbow and lets out a coughing fit. 

“Jimin-ah,” he complains. “I can’t lay here any longer. I have schoolwork I could be doing.”

Jimin stares at him, unimpressed. “You’re not going to exercise that brain at all. Your

going to rest and recover, not … not … AGHHH! I can’t think of the word!”

Namjoon snorts, but it turns into a deep cough and then a sneeze or two. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone to that festival. Too many germs.

“Let me go get you some medicine.” Jimin insists. “You’re due for another dose soon.”

[whumperwithwings]

Sicktember Day 3

Campus/Con Crud

Content: Horrible parent (I literally wrote this as protest because my mum wouldn't watch the Newsies proshot because she wanted to watch the Phillies game. They last won the world series in 2008. I don't see how the Phillies game is more exciting than the Newsies proshot.)

"So, Whumpee, how's college been?" Whumpee's parent asked, not taking their eyes off their phone.

"Hell." Whumpee said, sniffling. They walked over and sat down on the couch, burying their feverish, delirious face into their parents neck.

"That's great, Whumpee" Their parent said, not looking up. “Im glad you’re having such a good time at college.”

[sicknessbysalem]

Day Three: Campus/Con Crud (or something to that effect) | Sicktember 2024

i wasn't sure what this was at first, not gonna lie, but the general thing i found was a sort of group illness... and since i'm not so good with multiple sickies, I decided to sort of use it as getting sick while something was spreading as is.

For all the people who want some more younger Novak, this fic takes place on his first team, right out of college.

if you have any requests, comments, concerns, etc., send them my way!

tw emeto, fever, being sick in a new place, novak’s team doesnt really give a shit about him (so… undesirable peers?)

cw for the mentions of novak's child toward the end

Training camp had been grueling from the start, the New Mexico sun beating down relentlessly on the field as Novak and his teammates pushed through drill after drill. The Pronghorns were known for their tough, no-nonsense approach, and it was clear that this team was a far cry from the supportive environment Novak had experienced in college. Here, it was every man for himself, or at the very least every Novak for himself. Everyone else seemed like they knew each other and got along well. Novak was an outsider. He's been an outsider for the past two years.

It didn’t help that a stomach virus had been making its rounds through the team, taking down player after player. The locker room was a war zone of exhaustion and discomfort, but the coaches barely acknowledged it, pushing the remaining healthy players even harder to compensate for those who were sidelined. Novak had managed to avoid the bug so far, but he wasn’t naïve; he knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up to him.

And sure enough, that morning, as Novak laced up his cleats in the locker room, he felt the first twinge of nausea. It was subtle, just a slight unease in his stomach, but it was enough to make him pause. He shook it off, chalking it up to nerves or perhaps something he’d eaten, and headed out onto the field with the rest of the team.

The practice started off like any other, with the coaches barking orders and the players hustling through drills. Novak threw himself into the exercises, determined to ignore the growing discomfort in his gut. He was used to playing through pain—injuries, exhaustion, it was all part of the game—but this was different. The nausea grew steadily worse as the morning wore on, a gnawing sensation that seemed to radiate from his stomach up into his chest.

By the time they moved on to scrimmages, Novak was struggling to keep up. His head felt heavy, his movements sluggish, and every time he took a hit, the impact sent a jolt of pain through his abdomen. Sweat poured down his face, more from the nausea than the heat, and he could feel the shakiness in his legs that came with being on the verge of losing control.

“Come on, Daskalov, keep up!” one of the coaches shouted as Novak missed a block, stumbling to regain his footing. There was no sympathy in the man’s voice, just the expectation that Novak would push through whatever was slowing him down.

Novak gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay in the game. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness, not with the way things were on this team. But as the nausea built to a crescendo, he realized with growing dread that he might not have a choice. His vision swam, dark spots dancing at the edges, and he could feel the bile rising in his throat.

"Daskalov, what the hell are you doing? Move!” another player shouted as Novak hesitated, trying to blink away the dizziness. But it was too late. His stomach clenched painfully, and before he could stop it, he doubled over, vomiting violently onto the field.

The action on the field came to a sudden halt as the other players backed away, grimacing in disgust. The coaches exchanged annoyed glances but didn’t move to help. Novak stayed where he was, hands on his knees, breathing hard as he tried to regain control. His body felt like it was on fire, every muscle trembling with the effort of staying upright.

“Get him off the field,” one of the coaches finally barked, waving a hand dismissively. “Someone take him to the locker room.”

Novak felt a hand on his arm and looked up to see one of the trainers, a younger guy who didn’t seem quite as jaded as the rest of the staff. “Come on, man,” the trainer said quietly. “Let’s get you inside.”

Novak nodded weakly, allowing himself to be led off the field. He could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, some of them sympathetic, others indifferent, but he didn’t have the energy to care. His only focus was on putting one foot in front of the other and making it to the locker room without collapsing.

Inside, the cool air of the locker room hit him like a blessing, but it did little to ease the nausea that still gripped him. The trainer guided him to a bench, and Novak sank down gratefully, his head dropping into his hands. He could feel the sweat dripping from his hair, soaking through his shirt, and his stomach churned ominously, threatening another round of sickness.

“You need anything?” the trainer asked, though his tone suggested he wasn’t expecting much of an answer.

Novak shook his head, not trusting himself to speak without setting off another bout of vomiting. The room seemed to tilt around him, the fluorescent lights too bright, the sounds of the other players outside too loud. All he wanted was to curl up somewhere quiet and wait for the misery to pass.

The trainer hovered for a moment, then, seeing that Novak wasn’t going to ask for anything, gave him a pat on the shoulder and walked away. Novak closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing, trying to keep the nausea at bay. He knew he should go home, get some rest, but the thought of facing the coaches’ disappointment, of being seen as weak, kept him glued to the bench.

For a long time, Novak sat there, battling waves of dizziness and nausea, until finally, the locker room began to empty out as practice ended. A few teammates gave him sympathetic nods as they left, the ones who had been sick too, and the only reason they acknowledges him is because Novak was sure they felt they owed it to him, not that he wanted shit from them at this rate, but most ignored him, too caught up in their own discomfort or general dislike of him in general to offer much in the way of support.

Eventually, the locker room was quiet, and Novak knew he had to move. He couldn’t stay there all day, no matter how much he wanted to. With a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as the room spun. His stomach rebelled at the movement, and for a moment, he thought he might be sick again, but he forced it down, clenching his fists until the wave passed.

He needed to get home. Elya would be waiting for him, and Marceline would be there too, ready to help with whatever he needed. The thought of his daughter gave him the strength to push through the dizziness, to gather his things and make his way out of the locker room. But as he stepped out into the harsh sunlight, the nausea hit him again, and he had to pause, leaning against the wall as he fought to keep from being sick in front of the entire team.

No one stopped to check on him, and Novak wasn’t surprised. This team was different—here, you were expected to push through, no matter what. Weakness wasn’t tolerated, and Novak had already shown more than he wanted to. He needed to get home, where he could be sick in peace, away from the judgmental eyes of his teammates and coaches.

With a final, shaky breath, Novak forced himself to keep moving, each step taking him closer to his car and closer to home, where he could finally let go of the control he’d been clinging to all day. But he knew that the worst was yet to come, and as he drove away from the stadium, his stomach still churning, he couldn’t help but dread the hours ahead.

-

By the time Novak pulled into the driveway, he was barely holding himself together. The drive home had been a test of endurance, each bump in the road sending a wave of nausea through his already unsettled stomach.

The air conditioning in the car had done little to cool him down, and his clothes clung to his sweat-dampened skin. His head pounded with a dull ache, and his vision swam if he moved too quickly.

As he parked and turned off the engine, Novak took a moment to gather himself. He leaned back against the headrest, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, trying to steady the swirling in his head and the churning in his gut. But it was no use—the nausea was relentless, gnawing at him with a force that made him wonder how much longer he could keep it together.

Home was supposed to be a refuge, but right now, all Novak could think about was how he didn’t want to burden Marceline with watching Elya for any longer than necessary. Marceline had been a godsend since she started working as Elya’s nanny, but Novak hated the idea of adding to her workload, especially when he knew she’d already been with Elya all day.

With a deep, shaky breath, Novak opened the car door and stepped out into the late afternoon sun. The heat hit him like a wall, and he swayed slightly, gripping the car door for support as his stomach lurched. He swallowed hard, willing himself to hold it together just a little longer, at least until he got inside.

Marceline was in the living room when he walked in, playing with Elya, who was busy coloring at the coffee table. The sound of Elya’s laughter was usually enough to lift Novak’s spirits, but today, it only made the ache in his chest worse. He hated that he was too sick to enjoy these moments with his daughter.

“Hey, Novak,” Marceline greeted him, her smile fading as she took in his pale, exhausted face. “You look awful. Are you okay?”

Novak forced a weak smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “Just had a rough day,” he admitted, his voice rough and strained. “I think I caught whatever’s been going around.”

Marceline’s expression softened with concern as she stood up and walked over to him. “You should go lie down. I’ve got Elya, don’t worry about anything.”

Novak shook his head, even though the movement made him dizzy. “I don’t want to burden you. You’ve been with her all day…”

“Novak, it’s not a burden,” Marceline interrupted gently, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re sick. You need to rest, and I’m more than happy to watch Elya for as long as you need. I’m here to help, remember? Kind of goes with the perks of letting me live in the basement.”

Novak looked at her, feeling a wave of gratitude mixed with guilt. “Thanks, Marceline,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I don’t want to take advantage. The downstairs is yours, it's just an added benefit you're here but if you have plans with your friends or...”

“You’re not taking advantage of me if I'm offering,” she assured him, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “Go get some rest. I’ll keep Elya entertained.”

Novak nodded, too drained to argue further. He gave Elya a tired smile, brushing a hand through her soft curls as she looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. “Daddy’s going to lie down for a bit, okay? I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Elya replied, her attention already drifting back to her coloring.

With that, Novak made his way down the hall to his bedroom, every step feeling like a monumental effort. His legs were shaky, and his stomach churned with every movement, but the thought of finally lying down kept him going.

Once in his room, Novak collapsed onto the bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes. The cool sheets felt like heaven against his fevered skin, but the relief was short-lived. The nausea spiked again, and he closed his eyes, trying to will it away.

He needed to call Marina like he always did at the end of the day. It was a routine that kept him grounded, especially with the distance between them. But today, even the thought of talking on the phone felt like too much.

Still, he couldn’t skip the call. Marina would worry more if he didn't call her than if he did and told her he wasn't feeling well. With a shaky hand, Novak reached for his phone on the nightstand and dialed Marina’s number. She picked up after a couple of rings, her warm, familiar voice filling his ear.

“Hey, Novak,” she greeted him. “How was your day?”

“Hi, Mom,” Novak replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “It was… it was alright. Just a rough practice.”

Marina paused, sensing something off in his tone. “You don’t sound too good, sweetheart. Are you feeling okay?”

Novak hesitated, not wanting to worry her but knowing he couldn’t hide the truth. “I think I caught a bug that’s been going around the team,” he admitted, his voice faltering. “I’m just… really worn out.”

“Oh, Novak,” Marina sighed, her concern evident even over the phone. “You need to rest. Are you home now?”

“Yeah, I just got home,” Novak said, closing his eyes as another wave of nausea rolled through him. “Marceline’s watching Elya… I’m just going to try to sleep it off.”

“That’s good,” Marina said softly. “Make sure you take care of yourself. I wish I could be there to help.”

“I know, Mom,” Novak replied, his voice growing weaker. “I’ll be okay. How's the gallery?"

"Good, it's good." Marina told him. She started talking, telling him about it. She always did that, talked to Novak to tell him these things. She'd done it especially more since Nikolai passed away. Novak loved hearing her talk, usually.

"Novak, sweetheart, are you alright?" Novak suddenly heard. He hadn't realized it, but he had closed his eyes, he was dozing off listening to Marina talk. "You don't sound good."

Novak realized he wasn't dozing off. He was trying to steady his breathing to ease the dizziness and keep from throwing up while on the phone with Marina.

But before he could explain himself, the nausea surged, and Novak knew he couldn’t hold it back any longer. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he choked out, already scrambling to get off the bed and make it to the bathroom. “I’ve got-“

He felt his sentence get lost in a gag, he had barely enough of a lull to choke out an “I’m going to be sick.”

Novak barely managed to hang up and tods his phone aside before he was dashing for the bathroom and falling on his knees in front of the toilet, retching violently. The force of it left him gasping for breath, his entire body trembling with exhaustion.

The sound of his own heaving echoed in the small bathroom, and all he could think about was how much he wished he could just be done with it, just get it all out so he could finally rest.

When it was over, Novak slumped against the cool tile wall, too weak to move. He felt utterly drained, both physically and emotionally, the fight to keep it together wearing him down. He hated being sick like this, hated the way it made him feel so helpless, so vulnerable.

But more than that, he hated that he was putting extra stress on the people around him—on Marceline, on his mom.

As he lay there, trying to summon the strength to get up and get back to bed, Novak couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of frustration. This wasn’t how he’d imagined his life after college—struggling to keep up with a demanding team, getting sick in the middle of training camp, feeling like he was constantly on the edge of burnout. But despite it all, he knew he had to keep pushing forward, for Elya, for himself.

Eventually, Novak managed to pull himself up and make his way back to bed, collapsing onto the mattress with a weary sigh. His body was heavy with fatigue, and the nausea still lingered, but he was too tired to care. As he drifted off into a restless sleep, his last thoughts were of Elya and Marceline, and the hope that he’d feel better by morning. But deep down, Novak knew that it would take more than a good night’s sleep to shake off the weight of everything he was carrying.

[sicktember]

question what does campus/con crud mean😞😞 i can’t find anything on google tyty <33

Con (Convention) Crud and Campus Crub are slang terms referring to the illness you tend to gain after being around so many people for a few days. Typically, it's a cold/flu-type situation. Lots of sneezing, coughing, and icky stuff like that.

There will be more information about this prompt and a few others in the next few days as we put together a resource list!

[baubeautyandthegeek]

Cruddy Campus - Britta Perry/Helen

A/N: Day 3 for @sicktember again. Another bonus fic.

It takes very little time for Helen to get sick, even when she doesn’t mean to. Greendale Community College is only a little way away from her own and she’s quiet as she lets herself into Britta’s home, the house just perfectly placed between both campuses. She’s sneezing and feverish even as she moves to the bed, collapsing into it even when she knows Britta is in class, she’s too cold and sore to do anything else. Britta finds her there after class, moving to cover her with both the duvet and the blanket, smoothing soft brunette hair aside to let Helen breathe easier, her smile soft when Helen stirs slightly. “Britt?” “Hels.” “M'sick.” “I can see that…” She’s quiet as she helps Helen adjust herself to settle on her back, moving to gather a flannel and wipe away the sweat on Helen’s forehead gently. “I’ll get you some water… do you think you can eat anything?” A meek headshake and Britta sighs softly, wrapping Helen back in the blankets before moving to find water, helping the girl drink. Campus crud was annoying but she’s not sure Helen’s ever been this meek before.

“Get some rest.”

[the-au-collector]

Sicktember 2024 Recap

Sicktember is officially over! As stressful as it's been and despite using all my creative juices, I'm proud of what I've done! That said, I am planning on making a "Collector's Sicktember 2024 Redux" where I rewrite or extend certain fics (ones I’m definitely doing are marked with an asterisk*).

I'm making this recap mostly to keep an archive of all the prompts and their fics, but also for others to find later if they so want to.

Total Words: 59,581

Flushed Cheeks: Taking Care of A Legend

Hospital Bed: A Really, Really Poorly Timed Cold (Chapter 1)

Campus/Con Crud: Crud, We're Sick

"Great. I got a cold for my birthday": A Great Birthday

Rogue Organ: Ear Infection

Dizziness/Vertigo: Spinning

Borrowed Hoodie: A Really, Really Poorly Timed Cold (Chapter 2)

"The closest doctor is probably hours away from here!": What We Can (Chapter 1)

Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker: A Really, Really Poorly Timed Cold (Chapter 3)

The Sniffles: Totally Fine

Medieval Treatment: Maggots

"You're not fine, you're coughing up a lung": Sick Day (Chapter 1)

Mononucleosis: Karma (Chapter 1)

Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas: Stomach Flu

“Who decided _ was sick people food?”: Sick Day (Chapter 2)

Toxin/Poison: Sometimes It Takes Death To Make The Truth Come To Light *

Brain Fog/Spaced Out: Unreal

My Body Is One Big Ache: Warmth *

Hypochondriac Tendencies: Talking Through It

Medication Bribery: Bribes

Anaphylactic Response: Berry Cake

“You didn’t use my cup, did you?”: Karma (Chapter 2)

First-Aid Kit: What We Can (Chapter 2)

Tales from the Waiting Room: What We Can (Chapter 3)

Summer Flu: Lazy Day *

"I didn't mean to wake you up.": What We Can (Chapter 4)

This is non-negotiable: Negotiations

Pulling a Ferris Bueller: Freedom

Sick on a Roadtrip: Motel Room

Past Prompt of Choice (2023 Anxious Stomach): Poor Rabbit Heart, Please Slow Down (You're Okay)

(Series on AO3)

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

soften every edge

by skarmoree After a gala, seemingly the entire family comes down with an illness. Alfred refuses to let them waste away in bed. Sicktember 2024 day 1 - "I'm not hungover, I'm just sick AND day 3 - campus/con crud Words: 3430, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 1 of skarmoree's sicktember 2024 Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Alfred Pennyworth, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake (DCU), Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne Relationships: Batfamily Members & Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Sicktember 2024, Sickfic, Batfamily (DCU), campus/con crud, POV Alfred Pennyworth, POV Alternating, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Fluff via https://ift.tt/R7VndbK

[darl-ingfics]

Sicktember 2024 Masterlist

Updating daily, but I've filled in previews for Day 1-5, as well as groups for a few more days!

ATEEZ - BTS - EXO -Seventeen - SHINee

“I’m not hungover, I’m just sick” - D.O. (stomach bug)

Too Much of a Good Thing - S.Coups, Joshua (cold)

Campus/Con Crud - Seonghwa (cold)

“Great. I Got a Cold for My Birthday.” - Minho, Onew (cold)

Rogue Organ - DK (tonsilitis)

Dizziness/Vertigo - J-Hope (exhaustion)

Borrowed Hoodie - EXO (flu)

ALT - Hospital - Taemin (exhaustion)

Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker - Dino (fever)

The Sniffles ™ - Hongjoong (cold)

ALT - “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” - Vernon, Joshua, Dino~ (flu, both varieties)

“You’re not fine, you’re throwing up”- Yunho (stomach bug)

Mononucleosis - Wooyoung, Yeosang (mono)

Claean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas - Xiumin (flu)

"Who decided __ is ‘sick people food?’" - Mingyu (cold)

Toxin/Poison - Taehyung (fever)

Brain Fog/Spaced Out - Woozi

“My body is one big ache” - Seungkwan (flu)

ALT - First Aid Kit - Wonwoo (cold)

Medication Bribery - Yeosang (flu)

ALT - Flushed Cheeks - Key (fever)

“You didn’t use my cup, did you?” - Woozi, Jun, Mingyu (strep throat)

Under a Spell - Jun (cold)

Tales From the Waiting Room - Yeosang, Mingi (flu)

Summer Flu - Dino (flu)

ALT - Doctor's Note - Taehyung (lost voice)

“This is non-negotiable" - Suho (general illness)

Pulling a ‘Ferris Bueller’ - Taemin, Jonghyun, Onew (flu)

29. Sick on a Road Trip - Jeonghan

30. Past Prompt of Your Choice! - Joshua (cold) Jun (injury) DK (voice loss)

[aswallowssong]

Here's my masterlist of the prompts for this year (maybe this time I'll finish them all!)

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

Too much of a Good Thing/Overindulgence

Campus/Con Crud

“Great. I got a cold for my birthday.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up”

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”

Doctor’s Note

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

Flushed Cheeks

“This is non-negotiable”

Pulling a ‘Ferris Bueller’

Sick on a road trip

Hospital Bed

Some of these are the alternates, because there are things I don't always feel comfortable writing about (or a desire to, tbh.)

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Day Three: Campus/Con Crud

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58694908 by OBlossom “How can we even be having this conversation? You go to a smart school.” MJ shook her head in disappointment. “And while I am not actually invested in your health one way or another, I would be remiss in my duties as a human being to not advise you that, if you put that or any other mask on, you are going to catch some funky disease and end up camped out on some random sketchy bathroom floor begging for death.” Even as they stood amongst the throng of fans pressing against the table filled with 100% American made, guaranteed authentic unauthorized replica masks of every Batman villain in the DC Universe, Peter could not understand her point. “You’re being paranoid, MJ. Look!” He dropped the much handled mask that was in his hand, and grabbed at one still packed in plastic from closer to the bottom of the pile before pulling it from its packaging. “I’ll even try on a fresh one, just to make you feel better.” “I know what I said and I meant what I said. I am telling you, Peter. You’ll regret this decision one way or another.” Words: 1958, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of Sicktember 2024 Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones (Marvel), Tony Stark Relationships: Peter Parker & Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Sicktember 2024, day three, campus/con crud, Peter Parker Being an Idiot, Precious Ned Leeds, Good Friend Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit (Marvel), Fluff, Humour, What's the point to these spidey senses if Peter is a dumbass?, Does any of this count as a life lesson?, Vomiting, TW: Vomiting, IronDad and SpiderSon read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/58694908