We have the monthly themes. Now it's time to come up with weekly themes that fit under them: four for each monthly theme. Send in as many as you'd like! (we'll vote later on for the final ones to include)
Remember that each weekly theme should fit under one monthly theme, and be able to contain seven days worth of prompts (Here's the list so far)
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Team Leader saying "Leave. That's an order." hits twice as hard, when they're the kind of person who hates hiearchies and avoids giving direct commands.
Part of the Secret Santa exchange for the PHM server.
Dubois and Shapiro live rent free in my head, so it was nice my person requested them together. Here's the infamous Classroom SceneTM. Or however many similar ones followed because I doubt these two would give it a rest after the first one occured.
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Rotating around the thought of a whumpee conditioned into behaving specific ways depending on some sort of jewelry or item. Collar? Expected to hehave like a good pet. Bracelets? Be quiet and keep things clean. Rings mean defiant or earrings to act fancy, so on and so forth. I just think it's fun
The most delicious trait a defiant whumpee can have (in my opinion):
Bloody teeth.
Yes, give them a rough punch to the face, watch their bottom lip split open, wait a few seconds for them to spit a bit of blood onto the floor, then wait for them to raise their head and smile at you.
Look at their teeth, stained with blood!
I love that in particular.
Bonus points: include laughter + licking of their teeth or lips.
Sports player Whumpee uses the hem of their shirt to wipe the sweat from their brow during a game, completely forgetting that their abdomen is absolutely littered with bruises. The cameras catch all the damage. The commentators aren't quite sure what to say. Whumpee drops their shirt and keeps playing.
Do you ever want to just practice anatomy and get carried away? I certainly do
The character is my oc Isidore Toller from my fanfiction What You Deserve!
Cold, weak breaths hit the leather sitting a few millimeters from their lips, the concrete smooth and cold beneath them as they lay prone on the ground.
Sariah had fucked up again, their correction leaving them nothing but a bloody mess on the floor.
Their muzzle was digging into the old scars along their cheeks and nose, the pain melding with the rest of the agony washing over them. it hurts hurts hurts hurts- The soft whine of pain dies in the back of their throat as Sir look down on them though, the sound of his dress shoes stepping across the concrete making them shake.
"Have you learned your lesson this time Sariah?" They don't try to answer behind the muzzle, not interested in another lesson on how demons didn't speak. their name meant he was still mad
Weakly, they nod from their place on the ground, horns scraping against the concrete floor as they keep their eyes averted. Somewhere above them Sir smiles, crouching down to roughly pat the leather over their cheek. "Good daemon. We'll see how long this one sticks." Tears spring to their eyes at his words. they hate the relief that bubbles up at the lack of their name.
I can be good though! Sariah wanted to yell, hot trails slipping from their eyes along the edge of the muzzle. I can be good I can be good I can be good-
It wasn't true though, and they both know it. Sariah was never good, they just had stretches of good behavior before they inevitably fucked up enough to need correction again. they hated being corrected-
. . .
They're dragged back to their room by their tail, their current handler uncaring of the sharp ache the action leaves in the base of their spine or the bloody trail it leaves in its wake. The heavy metal door shuts with a thud as they're thrown inside, landing with a muffled yelp on their broken broken broken ribs.
Sariah drags themself over to their little cot, wheezing as they pull themself up onto it with a sob and collapse. Every inhale was another spike of agony as they were unable to stop their breath from shaking.
Despite that, they try to keep their breathing shallow, lying flat on their back despite their desire to curl into themself and disappear. They'd tried doing that once when they were younger and nearly punctured their lung.
What they can't stop however, are the hot tears that spring to the corners of their eyes and slip down to their hairline, desperately trying to bite back their sobs so the pain wouldn't get worse.
I'm sorry. It's the only thing they can think as they sit in agony and wait for their ribs to start mending.
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honestly I consider measuring someone's shorts (usually done by teachers in elementary-highschool by holding a ruler to a child's thighs) as a form of sexual harassment or sexual assault. it's misogyny but it's also straight up sexual harassment if not sexual assault
what exactly does this teach children? "adults are allowed to touch your thighs if it's to make sure you're not tempting the boys and adult men with your outfit" wtf is that
I feel like I should probably add some context for people who aren't familiar with this phenomenon
in the US (and I'm sure other places too) schools will often have strict dress codes for girls (and virtually no dress code for boys). some common points on the girl's dress codes are no visible bra straps, no visible shoulders, and shorts of a minimum length.
at my middle school (which was a public school, not a Catholic school) they required girls to have shorts that were at most 4 inches above the knee. different schools had different standards. when a teacher suspected that someone's shorts were too short they would hold a ruler up to their thigh to "verify" the length- usually in front of the entire class.
it was a misogynistic humiliation ritual.
when someone's shorts were too short they would be sent to the office and either sent home to change or forced to wear humiliating sweatpants as a punishment.
Ahah fun idea here, tie your Whumpee to a fence post or something indirect sunlight. Make sure it’s a really hot, bright day outside. Cut away their shirt, make sure they’re tied to the fence face-first so their back gets the worst of the burns.
Bring them inside when the sun starts to set, then have your Whumper whip them with a belt.
I’m not sure how many people realize that there’s a way in which hurt/comfort is actually very kinky, because at its core you’ve got this emotional power exchange fantasy where one character is vulnerable and helpless and the other takes care of them. In the case of stories involving grievous injuries, where someone is bedridden for a long time, you often end up with two characters in a 24/7 total power exchange relationship without a safeword. It just doesn’t involve as many whips and dog collars.
So. I have been reading through a series of novels that are deeply whumpy - so much so, in fact, that I suspect the writer is either part of whumpblr or at least would know about us.
But I've discovered what I think is the root of why whump here on Tumblr has always been easier for me than reading full novels that have a super whumpy focus.
It feels like, in the middle of the second book, I am trapped in the neverending grind of this character's torment in a way that just makes me want to skim and skip page after page. Like, yeah, it gets worse and worse and worse and never stops, okay. We get it.
I think the serial nature of Tumblr, of stories that filter out over weeks in specific, single chapters without the rest of the story an immediate and automatic continuance, makes it easier to connect emotionally with a story like this one.
I love the characters and the writing style. But I am struggling to get through the second book, entirely because it's the Torture Parade and it's such a slog. But everything else is amazing, and even the torture parade is well written, it just never ends.
on the subject of medic whumpers: a whumpee who was raped recently, very recently, being examined for damage (or evidence) by someone who doesn't give two shits about their emotional or physical comfort (were they pressured into making this appointment by a well-meaning friend who knows about the rape? did they come to medic on their own trusting that the examination would be done discreetly and gently? is medic the only person they've disclosed their rape to so far?) & is handling whumpee's discomfort like a hassle they're not paid enough to deal with—not warning them before they touch somewhere, or "warning" them after the fact with clear derision, like whumpee should obviously have prepared themself for touch here, what did they think was going to happen?; holding them in place while they flinch, just casually doing and saying stuff that reasserts how little say whumpee has about what's happening to their body ("It hurts, it really hurts—" "Are you sure? It shouldn't. This is the smallest one they make."); if medic occupies a "team doctor" kind of position, maybe they even compare whumpee's behavior unfavorably to the rest of the group: No one else carries on like this! Teammate made less noise when I set their broken arm. Everyone outside is gonna hear you if you yell like that. Calm down, it's just a swab. See? Just a little swab. Nope, knees open, we're not done. I don't actually see much abrasion here—you're pretty lucky. A lot of people tear.
and there could be an element of self gratification for medic here? but i also really like the idea that whumpee doesn't see any sign of medic enjoying this any more than they are; as far as they can tell, medic just sees them as a particularly uncooperative patient. so between that, and the fact that their previous rape is fresh in their mind, and the fact that they walked into this whole thing with a purpose (because seeing a doctor is something you're supposed to do in these situations, right? they're here bc they wanted to take care of themself) it doesnt even occur to them to characterize it in their head as sexual assault. just a medical procedure they were too chickenshit to sit still for. chances are they leave that office feeling ashamed of themself.
oh that hits hard as hell. the cruelty of that exam, the retraumatization of it. something about the specific “knees open” is absolutely gutting.
hard, unrelenting hands forcing their thighs open again. one planted on their back or their belly and pushing them down not violently but firmly and matter of factly when they try to get up off the exam table.
the exchange of “it hurts, it really hurts” “are you sure? this is the smallest size we have” absolutely knocked the air out of my lungs. it’s so casually cruel, so dismissive. so belittling of whumpee’s pain and their ability to evaluate their own pain.
it makes me think of later, too. of a situation where whumpee is raped again, or needs another kind of care. they’re hurt and need an exam or need to be treated and they already know how this is going to go, so they just… they submit to it.
but it’s a different medic, now. maybe the team has two, or maybe there’s been a replacement for some reason, but new medic notices after a bit that whumpee is deeply, profoundly triggered. in pain, scared, trembling. not okay. and they stop and try to check in and whumpee interrupts and says, “it doesn’t hurt. i know it doesn’t hurt, you don’t have to tell me. just do it.”
new medic frowns. “was that hurting you?”
and whumpee flinches at the question. “i know it doesn’t hurt, you’re just- you just have to-“ and it’s getting harder for whumpee to breathe. they’re shaking. something is wrong here. something is very wrong. “you won’t have to make me stay still, i can take it.”
yeah. something here is fucked. what happened to them?
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Pushing whumpee down with a hand on the back of their neck or the back of their head. To the floor, to kneel, lie face down, over a table, to bow, or just to show how easy it is to move them and remind them how much stronger whumper is and manhandle them for fun.
Just... Lean onto your whumpees. Make them bow. Force them to show submission.
Oh, your defiant whumpee is holding their breath to stop you from gagging them? Let them have their fun and wait until they start seeing black spots in their vision for a bit. Maybe even let them try and fight back, give them some time to think they’ve got the upper hand.
Then hit them hard in the diaphragm.
Watch all that struggle disappear. Also, while they’re coughing you can easily slip the gag of your choice in.
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