Fever - Blog Posts
I feel absolutely awful. I hate fevers and I hate illness and I hate everything like that. The second I so much as get out of bed I can feel Death staring me in the face.
Writing Prompt #15
The protagonist is a complete germaphobe. Before they do remotely anything, they have to wash their hands. Every weekend, they have a cleaning purge of their house to the point where one can eat on the floor. And they absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, cannot stand to be around sick people.
Which makes things very complicated when their best friend/lover comes down with a fever.
I’m sick right now and very busy this weekend, I might not post a lot right now, I’m sorry!! I’ve been trying to get over this fever, but I’m just too hot that my body finds it necessary for me to be at 103.5 for two days straight/j
I’m sorry, I’ll be posting again soon <33
A feverish Character B leaning into Character A’s cool touch
Fever Face by Levi Robinheart
Fever in my head So comfortin If I wasn't dead I would kiss you again It feels like a storm I'm on a pressure plate It makes me feel better to write you again
My thoughts are all murky Misleadin me I could be a pirate But I'm lost without sea And when I'm woozy on the couch It's so true to me So lie to me and tell me That the trees never change
I don't buy it
And I wish I could give you Every story I had But these old wicked bones Didn't know of your care And I can't help but see you Cause I'm still goin mad And it's no fault of either But the clocks turn in squares
Fever in my heart Keep sleepin in I'll fade in these cushions Til I know you again Wanna drain my head S'all coploid here Was I your dear poet? You were my pioneer
It makes me feel summer Much harder, then Got all this freedom Got no way to spend You've got to feel cool With the wind again I'll be fine when it's over Just keep moving your pen
You're gonna be the best
And I wish I could give you Every story I knew But my brain would escape me When my hand was in yours And I woke from a nightmare I was waitin for you But I'm rudely aware we went through diff'rent doors
I still want to wait anymore
And my brains press the Walls of my skull And my trash doesn't Care who I am And the moss grows Inside my remorse Cause you're still Really wonderful And the murders remind me of you And I wonder which path was the mighta' been And it's not like we're that far away I just wish I could see you there And your hair It feels unfair
Fever face is close to a guinea hen I'm always surprised when you say I'm fantastic again
I'm sorry that I stared when I looked at you The things I want to say become hard around you
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Things I thought up in my 105-degree fever delirium
I want to gaslight people into thinking pneumonia comes from the French word "pneu" (which means tire).
I want the emoji for pneumonia to be a tire.
The motto for any lung sickness should be, "Fever as high as heaven, cough until you meet God."
the weary feverish whumpee aesthetic™
I love it when a whumpee is so weak that they:
are bedridden, much to their discomfort. They long to leave the bed, but cannot because they are too weak, and their legs shake at the thought of taking even a single step.
can't keep their eyes open. Their eyelids flutter but due to tiredness and too much light, they always close again. However, the whumpee has learned to rely on other senses, and is able to recognize the caretaker's voice or touch among a thousand others.
have to always lie down. They try to sit up, perhaps to eat something, but after a few minutes their head starts spinning and their body starts screaming because of the effort. Much to their chagrin, they have to force themselves back down or else they will likely pass out.
are not hungry. Their body can't handle even plain broth, making them queasy and dizzy. So they continue to refuse food, their only source of livelihood, and this obviously worsens their condition.
are too sensitive to touch. Their skin that seems to boil with fever, the bedsheets that rub down their limbs like sandpaper, the hair that sticks to their sweaty forehead, even the simple touch of the caretaker, a touch that is supposed to comfort them. They start to hate all these little things.
Please, feel free to add more.
List of symptoms
I hate having whump fantasies that involve some vague fever that doesn’t have consistent symptoms to make it feel real. Here’s a handy list to flesh out the nature of your whumpee’s illness.
Let’s go:
Dizziness/faintness
Congestion
Sneezing
Coughing
Headache
Muscle aches
Joint aches
Cramping
Exhaustion/lethargy
Shivering
Wheezing/trouble breathing
Sore throat (trouble speaking and swallowing)
Sweating (leads to dehydration)
Flushed and/or pale skin
Delirium (delusions, nightmares, lack of filter, inability to regulate emotions, hallucinations, incoherent speech, confusion)
Nausea/vomiting
Abdominal pain (burning, stabbing, soreness)
Chest pain (burning, stabbing, soreness, tightness)
Pain/pressure behind the eyes
Feeling too hot or too cold
Weakness
Blurred vision
Weight loss (loss of appetite)
Rapid heartbeat
Abnormal breathing (rapid, shallow, panting)
Sensory sensitivity (light, sound, touch, smell, taste)
Tell me more……