#blue lock sickfic

[caspersickfanfics]

A very late submission for @monthofsick day 8: Loud or Silent

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Warnings: Vomiting, implied emetophobia, teenage sickie (17 y.o)

A/N:

I don't really know what kind of audience there is for Blue Lock and what the overlap with the emeto community looks like, but reading that manga brought me back to my Haikyuu days so quickly. Writing this was kind of nostalgic - so even if no one reads it, I did quite enjoy going back to my sports-anime comfort zone of sorts while making it!

Whenever Bachira wakes up with his mouth sewn shut, he knows that the day is not going to be a fun one. On days like this, his mom would normally make him hot chocolate and a pillow fort. She’d let him stay home from school and use her paints and canvases to communicate if he chose. If he didn't, they'd just sit together, and it would help. These days were always difficult, but with his mom around, he could get through them with a handful of crying spells, a few naps, and the reminder that it would be over soon enough.

He’d really hoped this wouldn’t happen while at Blue Lock. The air in the facility feels more choking than ever and, for the first time, Bachira wonders if he’s made a mistake, staying here. His mom, when she’d found out about his decision, had been supportive. She always had believed in him fully. But days like this… Bachira isn’t sure that he’s ready to face them on his own yet. There’s no hot chocolate here. And to make it all worse, he's not sure he could stomach it if there was.

He chokes down a tasteless breakfast without a word. His friends appear to be concerned about him to various degrees, but that’s the thing about days like this… Bachira doesn’t have words. Even if he did, he doesn’t have a voice. He can't explain it to them, as much as he wants to. The attention just makes him feel uncomfortable and guilty for his ineptitude. Once everyone else has left the cafe, Isagi waits for Bachira to finish his food, quiet, as though he can somehow sense what Bachira needs.

They start towards the gym for warmups and conditioning together, but the thought of weights and running makes Bachira start to sweat. He peels off as they pass the bathroom. Isagi frowns, but only asks if he’s alright. When Bachira nods, he’s relieved that his friend doesn’t push it.

Minutes later, Bachira has locked himself in a tiny stall, breathing slowly and fighting tears. He feels horrendously sick, and equally lonely. With each wave of nausea comes a jolting fear. He squeezes his eyes shut, as if he could make the whole world disappear, himself included, by doing so. Instead, time continues to crawl along, and Bachira feels no better. When he begins to shake, the queasy feeling peaks, and he knows he’s fighting a losing battle. 

Burping over the toilet bowl, puffs of rancid air fill his mouth. The sour taste has him retching, quietly. Eventually the air builds and brings with it something awful: hot, watery vomit interspersed with semi-solid chunks, the taste rotten and turning his stomach even more. He manages to wrangle some control over his body, flushes the toilet, and leans back, but tears stream down his cheeks. The nausea hasn’t left and the lingering smell doesn’t help. He’s trembling, arms across his midsection, hands clutching at his elbows. He hates that he’s gone and gotten sick at Blue Lock. It has to be the worst place for this to happen - it’s cold, oppressive, and unforgiving. Bachira tries and fails not to think about how this will put him out of commission, and will most likely spell the end of some of best friendships he’s ever made. It weighs heavy on his heart, at odds with an underlying need to be home; really, he just wants his mom. He jumps at a click - the door to the bathroom opening - and holds his breath.

“Bachira?” It’s Isagi.

Bachira whimpers. He can’t help it. His stomach is bubbling back up again. He muffles a belch into his hand and hears a soft knock against his stall.

“Hey.” Isagi sounds… calm. “We all thought something seemed off, earlier. Do you want me to keep you company?” Calm, patient, and reassuring. Bachira has found a wonderful friend. He should feel happy. Instead, he feels weak and not at all like the athletic partner he needs to be for Isagi. He's ashamed; but he also doesn’t want to be alone. His monster disappears on days like this. His mom is hours away. He doesn’t want to be alone.

He lets Isagi in. Bachira keeps his face towards the ground, both out of shame and an attempt to manage the dizziness of standing. It doesn’t help - at least, not enough to keep his body upright. His legs give out and Isagi catches him under the armpits.

“Woah,” he murmurs. “Careful.”

Bachira says nothing, limp in Isagi’s arms. Tears continue to wet his cheeks.

“You must be feeling awful.” There’s a hand to Bachira’s forehead. Despite wanting to be better than this, to be strong, for Isagi, the comforting gesture softens Bachira further. “Have you thrown up?”

A mortified nod. Isagi makes a sympathetic noise, squeezing Bachira’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll get through this.” Bachira’s hazy mind latches onto the wording - we’ll get through this. He’s not alone. The thought brings fresh tears to his eyes. Isagi’s here. “We should get you back to bed, though.”

As if in direct response to his lifted hopes, Bachira’s stomach is suddenly in his throat again. He whirls around, opens his mouth, and tries not to sound too pitiful as vile liquid pours out of it. This time, Bachira is helpless - his tenuous control over his body entirely lost. Without his consent, his stomach clenches, again and again, sending more and more burning sick rushing up his throat, filling the toilet bowl with messy splashes.

Stunned, Isagi stands behind his sick friend for a moment before moving closer to pull his hair out of the way. He’s glad now that Chigiri had insisted on barging into Ego’s office to demand that he give Bachira at least a day off. It’s clear that the other boy is very, very ill.  It explains how quiet he’d been throughout the morning. Isagi wishes he could do more than rub his friend’s back, but knows that they just need to wait it out for now. It doesn’t make his heart hurt any less, standing there as Bachira empties himself out. For as loud as he normally is, right now, he's worryingly quiet even while spilling his guts, making only muted, choked noises and occasional hiccups. As if he’s wanting to hide.

“You’re okay, Bachira,” Isagi says. “Ego is fine with you resting today, by the way.”

The sick boy’s breath catches momentarily, shock disrupting even his relentless stomach, before he lurches forward with another retch. Isagi hums.

“It surprised me, too. Not sure what Chigiri said to him, but I’m sure he’ll have a story to share once you’re feeling better.”

By now, Bachira is panting over the toilet, bile and spit dripping from his lips. The heaving has nearly stopped, although every once in a while his whole body tenses, shudders, and forces out another mouthful of bile. Isagi can’t imagine that the stench and general discomfort of the tile floor is helping any, so he flushes the toilet and eases Bachira away from it. The sick boy doesn’t resist, leaning into Isagi’s touch. His face is red and blotchy, his hair sweaty.

“Hey,” Isagi smiles when their eyes meet. “You’re doing so well.”

That’s all it takes to get an armful of Bachira. Isagi feels his sweatshirt dampen with tears, and pets his friend’s head until his shoulders stop shaking. Still, neither of them let go until Isagi realizes that it’s probably safe enough to move at this point.

“Do you feel okay enough to go back to the dorms?” Bachira freezes at the suggestion, his grip on Isagi’s clothes tightening. Isagi takes a guess at the cause of his hesitation. “I’ll stay with you. If Ego’s giving you a day off, he can give me one, too.”

There’s a pause, a sniffle, and then a nod. Isagi melts. Bachira is just as cute when he’s quiet as he is when he’s shouting and energetic. He only wishes he were feeling better. One day, they’ll have to have a fun day off. They can spend it together and maybe with some of their other friends, relaxing. But for today, they’ll be okay. They’ll get through this together, too.

–––

Send asks here!

[metalkitty21]

Here's the TabiEitaKen! You guys voted for all 3 together so here they are!

Karasu's POV: sickfic, no major warnings needed. Just general sickness stuff Word Count: 1123

Yukimiya's POV: Hurt/comfort, lots of mentions about Yuki's vision. (I apologise if anything is inaccurate! I did my best) Word Count: 1270

Otoya POV: Birthday fic. Mentions of making out. References to Karasu's voice fetish Word Count: 1227

Full Fics under cut!

Karasu groans as he opens his eyes, groggy and his body overall feels ten times heavier than usual. It takes him a short moment to realise two things. One, this is about the third time he’s waking up after going back to sleep, and two, the reason for his awakening is the constant, soft buzzing of his phone. Knowing it isn't his alarm, he decides to ignore it. Reaching up to rub his eyes and groaning at the pain in his chest and throat, and the weight of his own body. 

To be fair, he should be used to this by now. He’s always one to get sick more frequently, and more severely than most people do. Just his luck. As Winter has finally made its way around, Karasu shouldn't have been surprised when he got a dull burn in the back of his throat which turned into him waking up at 3am with a deep pain in his throat and chest, leading to him being unable sleep again due to a hacking cough and blocked nose.  

Currently just gone 1pm, Karasu’s done nothing but sleep. He’s sick and tired, and therefore his lack of productivity is justifiable, and makes a lot of sense. Staring at the ceiling trying to decide what his next action should be, torn between rotting in bed for another 2 hours and finally getting up to get something to eat, his phone buzzes to life again. With a groan, Karasu blindly reaches for his phone, managing to grab it and look at the caller id. He blinks as Yukimiya's contact name lights up on his screen, his mind too foggy to properly register that he’s been radio silent all morning and that his partners are likely worried about him. Without much thought, Karasu answers and puts it on speaker, dropping his phone by his side. 

“Okay so you aren't dead, glad that's finally ruled out. You okay, Tabito?” Karasu goes to respond, but ends up in a coughing fit before he can form even a simple ‘yes’.

“That explains things then.” Otoya's voice says from the other line, and Karasu’s too busy coughing up his own lung to properly register that the two of them are together. He didn’t miss plans the three of them had scheduled together right? He does however register the faint sound of music and the occasional clicking of turn signals. 

“Yeah.” Karasu responds, sounding like he had a serious smoking addiction and smoked a pack a day for ten years. He hears a chuckle and a wince from the phone. If he had to guess, Otoya laughing at his misery and Yukimiya jabbing him in the side for being an asshole. He doesn't consider the potential consequences of Otoya being playfully attacked while driving. 

“We’ll be there in 15. Don't get out of bed.” Yukimiya’s sweet voice fills his ears, relaxing him slightly. 

“Thank you, Yuki.” Karasu sighs slightly, both in relief that Yukimiya and Otoya are coming to his rescue, and from embarrassment due to how his voice sounds at this moment in time. He hears some light chatting from Yukimiya and Otoya, way too tired and groggy to even attempt to process anything or hang up the call himself. He decides that staring at the ceiling is his best option, not that it gives him much to do, but it's better then trying to focus on the conversation Yukimiya and Otoya are having while they drive over to Karasu’s place. 

“You still with us, Tabito?” Karasu simply groans in response, not paying enough attention to know who spoke to him. He hears chuckles from both of them. He finally decides to roll over onto his side, looking at his phone, seeing the timer on the call tick by. He hears the sounds of car doors closing before the call hangs up, then soon after, he hears the door to his place unlock. 

He rolls over to the other side of the bed, facing the door to his room, which after what feels like forever, opens. Otoya walks in, Yukimiya somewhere else in his house, Karasu’s small tortoiseshell cat follows behind Otoya, jumping onto Karasu’s bed immediately, settling against the bend of his legs. 

“You really do look like shit.” Otoya states, getting a roll of the eyes from Karasu, who pulls one of his hands out from under his duvet to scratch the head of his beloved cat. 

“Thanks, Babe. I feel so loved right now.” Otoya pulls his gloves off, stuffing them in the pocket of his trousers as he crouches to get close to Karasu, probably would have sat down if Yuzuki hadn't taken the only spot close to Karasu. Karasu feels Otoya’s hand on his forehead for a few moments, before he pulls away. 

“You're definitely sick.” Karasu once again rolls his eyes, coughing slightly.

“I could have told you that.” Otoya rolls his eyes back, threading his hand into Karasu’s unwaxed and sleep-scruffed hair, brushing the blue-purple hair back and out of Karasu’s face. Karasu relaxes into Otoya’s hand, enjoying the warmth and feeling of his touch. Yukimiya finally shows up to join the ‘care for Karasu’ club, a glass of water in one of his hands, and some medicine in the other. How he knew where it was kept was unknown to Karasu, but he’s too tired to question it. 

“Can you sit up?” Karasu groans, but slowly pushes himself to sit up, resting against the headrest as Yukimiya passes him the medicine and the drink.

“Thanks Yuki.” Karasu puts both pills in his mouth at the same time, downing about half the glass, the coolness of the water helping to soothe his throat. Yukimiya takes the glass from him and places it on Karasu’s bedside table, moving to Karasu’s left, sitting by his side.

“If you want we can stay and I’ll make dinner for the three of us?” Karasu nods, leaning his head against Yuki’s shoulder, who rests his head on top of Karasu’s.

“Shift forward a little.” Karasu glares over at Otoya, who’s busy fighting the laces of his boots so he could climb into Karasu’s bed. Karasu does as told, shifting forward so Otoya can slip behind him once he’s done taking his boots off. With Otoya’s warmth against his back, and Yuki’s against his side, along with the gentle purring of Yuzuki makes Karasu feel at peace.

He always hated whenever he got sick. He’d have to cancel plans and be stuck in bed for however long and often alone as well. Not anymore. He had two wonderful boyfriends by his side to keep him company, no matter how often he got sick. He could very much get used to this.

After leaving Blue Lock, Yukimiya and his partners, Karasu and Otoya decided to settle together in a decent size house, all still pursuing their football career. Despite being on separate teams, the three make the most out of it, enjoying what time they get together, and the occasional match against each other. Now in a break in the season, the three of them are enjoying the two weeks of uninterrupted time they get to spend together.

Yukimiya shouldn’t be surprised when he wakes up and hardly anything in his vision changes. Despite his eyes being open, Yukimiya can hardly see anything, his vision blurry. He sighs, burying his face in the head of silver head which is stuffed into his chest, basking in the warmth which is both against his chest and his back. He should have expected this moment to come sooner than later. He was aware that his vision was slowly getting worse, his glasses doing less and less to make his vision clearer as time went on. But actually waking up and being in the moment where his eyes are the worse they’ve been hits him hard. He curls his arms tighter around Otoya instinctively, longing for a sense of comfort, hoping this is just some horrible nightmare, and not the reality that the match he played just last week would likely be one of his final matches. 

He feels Karasu’s arm tighten around his waist, nuzzling into the nape of his neck. Yukimiya decided not to acknowledge Karasu’s affection, not for any malicious reason, but due to the fact he wasn’t ready to face reality yet. He doesn’t want to acknowledge his faltering vision.

“I know you’re awake, Yuki. Don’t ignore me.” Karasu’s tone is playful, nuzzling into Yukimiya’s neck again, his warm breath tickling Yuki’s skin. He feels Otoya shift against him, tucking his head over Yukimiya’s shoulder to see Karasu.

“Morning, Stupid Crow.” Otoya’s voice is gruff with sleep, and he can feel the rumble from his chest against his own. He also feels the rumble of Karasu’s chest as he chuckles, turning his attention to Otoya.

“Mornin’ to you too.” Karasu’s normally subtle accent shines through, as Yukimiya tries his best to simply ignore his partners, which is made impossible by the fact that they’re both pressed right up against him. “Come on, Pretty Boy. No more hidin’.” Karasu sits up, reaching his hand out to brush his hand through Yukimiya’s sleep-scruffed hair. They fall into a moment of silence, Yukimiya conflicted between keeping up the facade of pretending to be asleep, or just blatantly telling his partners he’d rather be alone right now. He feels Otoya also sit up, Karasu shuffling to sit closer to him. “Hey, Yuki, what’s wrong? Talk to us, Pretty Boy.” Karasu continues to thread his fingers through his hair, his other hand finds a resting spot on his hip. One of Otoya’s hand hold Yukimiya’s own, which he, almost on reflex, squeezes tightly. 

“Hey there, Pretty Boy. What’s on your pretty little mind?” Yukimiya sighs, deciding that talking would be the best course of action. He sits up, going to reach past Otoya to grab his glasses, hoping to at least partially clear his vision, but Otoya’s already sliding his glasses onto his face, pulling the few tufts of hair out from under the arms. He mutters a quiet thanks, leaning his head on Karasu’s shoulder, keeping his hold on Otoyo’s hand. 

Either of them speak, letting Yukimiya speak when he’s ready. He doesn’t want to speak. He wants to go back to when his vision was perfect. Back to when he didn't have to worry about his time running out. 

“My vision has gotten worse” Yukimiya forces himself to say, wanting nothing more for this to be some horrible dream. He can feel the mood in the room drop, Karasu’s arm wrapping around his waist to pull him more into his side, and Otoya squeezing his hand. “...I don't know if I'll be able to play anymore” Yukimiya can feel the tears begin to well up in his eyes. He doesn't want to stop. He loves the sport, he loves his team, he loves watching his partners play, he loves playing with his partners, he doesn't want this to be the end. 

“Don't say that, alright? Not yet, at least. Book an appointment with your doctor. We can come with, if you want to, and we can see if maybe it's as simple as making your glasses stronger, or something, I'm not a genius. But don't say it's over until you know it is.” Karasu holds Yukimiya’s face in his hand as he says this, gently brushing away any tears that fall as he speaks, giving Yukimiya a soft and supportive smile. Yukimiya lets out a shaky sigh, nodding slightly. Otoya momentarily lets go of Yukimiya’s hand, moving to drape himself against his back, his arms under Yukimiya’s, wrapping around his chest as he nuzzles into the sides of his neck, the feeling of the touch subtle, yet so welcome. Yukimiya settles back against Otoya, feeling the ninja place brief, light kisses to his neck, as Karasu presses his forehead against Yukimiya’s, both him and Yukimiya letting out a comforted sigh. 

“Thank you both.” Yukimiya moves away from Karasu, taking both of his hands, which Karasu gently squeezes. 

“We’re your partners. It's what we do.” Otoya speaks into his neck, resting his chin over Yukimiya’s shoulder. Karasu nods in agreement, brushing both Yukimiya’s hair and Otoya’s out of their faces. 

“How about we have a lazy day? We still have a full week to do any exciting things we want to.”  Yukimiya and Otoya nod in agreement. Karasu smiles, slipping out of bed. He cracks a smile when his tortoiseshell cat comes sprinting into the room, meowing at him, letting him know that it’s feeding time. “I know, you noisy thing! I’ll make us all breakfast, you two stay and cuddle” Karasu pats his chest, signalling for Yuzuki to leap up onto him, which she does, clambering onto his shoulders. Yukimiya watches as the two leave the room, focusing on how blurry they are from the first time he saw Karasu show one of Yuzuki’s little tricks to him.

“You’re overthinking.” Otoya states from over his shoulder, tightening his arms around Yukimiya’s chest. Yukimiya sighs, letting his head drop against Otoya’s.

“I just…I don’t want this to end.” Otoya nods, bumping his nose against the underside of Yukimiya’s jaw.

“This won’t end. Even if-”

“When”

“If you go blind, you’ll still have me, Tabito, Yuzuki. All of Bastard as well,  I'm sure. You’re still good friends with the sloth right?” Yukimiya nods. Otoya has a good point. He may lose his vision, and his football career with it. He’ll still have all his friends though.

“I’ve been thinking about applying for a service dog.” Otoya shuffles out from behind Yukimiya, shifting to lay against his chest. Yukimiya wraps one arm around his waist, the other caressing up and down his arm. 

“Yeah? Tabi’s gonna be more helpful than I am, but I’ll do what I can.” Yukimiya chuckles, pressing a kiss to Otoya’s forehead. 

“Thank you, Eita. You and Tabito are too good for me.” Otoya scoffs, hiding his face in Yukimiya’s chest in a poor attempt to hide the blush on his face. 

“You’ve got it the wrong way round. Either if you’re out of our league, we’ll always be here for you.” Yukimiya smiles, feeling himself growing slightly flush as well. He couldn’t ask for more in a situation such as this.

Otoya can’t remember the last time he woke up in bed alone, yet here he is, laying in bed, staring at the wall with neither of his boyfriends to be seen, not even the remnants of their warmth for him to pathetically cling to. Ever since he met Karasu in First Selection, the pair has had a strange relationship, which Otoya realised later down the line was due to Karasu actively trying to flirt with him and Otoya dodging it to try and avoid an inevitable identity crisis. By the end of First Selection, the pair had somehow managed to get themselves into a make out session in the locker room after their final match and that’s how Otoya ended up getting with his first boyfriend.

“Come on, get out of bed, lazy ass.” Karasu pats Otoya’s hip, before jabbing him in the side.

“I’m up, I’m up.” Otoya groans, batting Karasu’s hand away with no effort to actually try and send him away. 

“I can see you’re up, but it’s time to get out of bed. We let you have your birthday lie in, but it’s morning time now. Yuki made breakfast.” Otoya blinks a little, reaching out to grab his phone from the bedside table.

December 3rd. Huh, guess it was his birthday. Otoya can practically hear Karasu roll his eyes. Otoya slips out of bed, stuffing his phone into the pocket of his shorts. Karasu leans in to press his forehead against Otoya’s, pressing a small kiss to his nose. “Happy birthday, ya idiot.” Otoya mumbles a thank you in response, tucking his face into Karasu’s neck. The two walk together into the kitchen of their decent little place. Otoya smiles at the sight in front of him. Yukimiya stands in front of their stove, preparing three piles of pancakes for them all. Between his legs stands his new guide dog, an Australian Shepherd called Archer. 

“Morning, Eita. Happy Birthday.” Yukimiya turns to face him, opening up one of his arms. Otoya happily accepts the embrace, tucking his face into Yukimiya’s neck just as he had done with Karasu only moments ago. Yukimiya’s hand threads into his hair, causing Otoya to let out a pleased hum, relaxing further into Yukimiya’s body. 

“You’ll put him back to sleep.” Karasu teases lightly as he reaches to take his and Otoya’s plates, carrying them to the living home. Yukimiya pats Otoya on the small of his back, silently urging him to follow Karasu. Otoya does without complaint, following Karasu into the living room. Karasu’s in his spot on their sofa, his plate on his lap and Otoya’s on the small table in front of the sofa.

Otoya sets himself down next to Karasu, tucking himself into Karasu’s side before he reaches out for his plate, placing it on his lap. It doesn’t take long for Yukimiya to join them, Archer not following far behind him. Otoya has to lift his plate as Yukimiya takes up the rest of the sofa as usual, his legs resting in Otoya’s lap, and Otoya doesn’t hesitate to put his plate back down into Yukimiya’s legs, silently hoping that the other doesn’t make any sudden movements.

“Thanks for breakfast, Yuki.” Otoya reaches a hand out towards Yukimiya, who reaches out in return to take Otoya’s hand.

“Please, it’s the least I could do for you” Otoya smiles fondly at Yukimiya's soft and gentle tone. He’d always had a weakness for Yukimiya’s voice, and that’s usually Karasu’s thing. 

His soft amber eyes and soothing voice. That was Karasu’s and Otoya’s first impression of Yukimiya during Second Selection. Having just lost Kiyora to Nagi’s team, Karasu, Otoya and Himizu went back down to the third stage, where they encountered Yukimiya’s team. At first, they had their eyes set on other players, but after seeing just how powerful he was in one-on-ones (and how pretty he was) Karasu made the final call to have him join their team. Best call the stupid crow had ever made. Yukimiya was not only a great addition to their team, but Jesus Christ if Otoya didn’t want him he’d be lying harder than he was denying his sexuality. Both Otoya and Karasu could tell the other was thinking the same thing, but neither knew the best way to approach the situation. It wasn’t until the Neo Egoist League that Otoya and Karasu simply grew impatient and asked him out, which considering the chaos of confession, went surprisingly well, far better than Otoya’s and Karasu’s weird post match locker room make out. 

Otoya jumps a little when he feels the weight of Archer’s head rest on his knee. Otoya smiles, reaching out to scratch the shepherd’s head as he and his partners happily ate together. Yukimiya being the first to get up, without sending Otoya’s plate flying. He takes the others’ plates back to the kitchen, Archer following him as always. After cleaning up, the three did their daily workout as usual, all going to their local gym to train and keep fit. They all want to move into a bigger place where they can get their own at home gym, especially for when Yukimiya’s vision goes. Once they all return home, Otoya finds himself being showered in gifts. Yukimiya got him a nice pair of boots he’d been wanting for ages but felt the price was obsessive, because despite popular belief, Otoya’s semi-decent at money management, as well as some good quality rings, since most of Otoya’s were, in Karasu’s words ‘shitty and not his style’ among other things.

Karasu’s gifts were things Otoya had explicitly asked for, mostly clothes, ones from his favourite brand, more beanies to add to his abundance, as well as a mix of general trinkets and manga. 

“Thank you both for the gifts.” Otoya reaches a hand out to each of them. Karasu takes his hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of his palm, while Yukimiya takes his other, pressing it to his own cheek.

“You don’t need to thank us, Eita.” Yukimiya presses a small kiss to Otoya’s wrist, Karasu leaning in to litter his facing in many more. Otoya tries to shy away from Karasu, but the arm that snakes its way around his waist holds him in place. Otoya hears Yukimiya chuckle at the action, which lends him a glare from Otoya.

“Not gonna help me?” Otoya grumbles a little, still trying to push Karasu away from him. Yukimiya shakes his head, closing the little distance between the two of them, joining Karasu in his onslaught against Otoya. “Stop!” Otoya can’t help but laugh a little, truly enjoying the affection. The others laugh in response, both of them sharing a kiss with Otoya, then each other.

“Happy Birthday, Babe.” Karasu speaks into Otoya’s hair, his hand rubbing small circles on his hip.

“Thank you, both of you.” Otoya smiles, leaning into Karasu, making room for Yukimiya to join the cuddle, which he does. Despite being the tallest one, even with his measly 1cm on Karasu, he tucks himself as much as physically possible into their chest, both his arms wrapping around their backs, his glasses awkwardly digging into their chests but they both don't care. Otoya drops his head into Yukimiya’s head, breathing in the scent of his ridiculously expensive shampoo. Oh how he couldn't ask for more from them.

[blxrrii]

SICK DAY

S. Itoshi x Reader

Fluff - 3.6K words- No Warnings That time Itoshi Sae got sick, and you took it upon yourself to take care of him.

The sound of his repeating alarm woke Itoshi Sae from his slumber, his hand reaching in a desperate attempt to shut the sound up because, holy shit, was it loud.

A headache shot through his head, resulting in him sucking in a breath. His whole body burned with pain, not the pain and numbness he felt the morning after a really intense practice session; no, he felt fatigued, as if he was bound in the same position. 

It took Sae a good minute or two to gather that he was in his bed next to you, who had somehow always slept through his alarm. 

His burning eyes soften at the site of your peaceful, sleeping figure. Your hair was dishevelled, strands falling in front of your face that Sae refused to move away because he loved your ditziness.

A soft sigh escaped past his lips, his eyes closing as he swore it would only be a minute, and then he would get up to start his day.

Itoshi Sae wasn’t someone who delayed his tasks.

No matter how tedious, overworked, or pained he was, Sae strived to better himself, pushing forward in any way he could. So why was today so different? Why did dread fill him at the mere thought of doing anything?

Disregarding his feelings, Sae gets up from the comfort of his bed, only to quickly grab at the bedpost when his eyesight starts darkening, the sense of falling face down on the floor overcoming him.

A hushed groan vibrated within him, moving his spare hand to rub his temples. He hated this weird, foreign feeling. It felt like his whole body was weighing him down, as if there were hundreds of weights chained to him.

Despite the terrible feeling that spread through his body, Sae continued on to get his day started, stumbling to the bathroom in his tired and sick state.

After Sae finished getting ready, which took him much longer than usual, he grabbed his bag that contained all that he’d need for soccer practice and started to make his way out the door. He didn’t eat breakfast, as he felt nauseous and usually grabbed food from outside most days. 

The midfielder was just about to open the door, his hand twisting at the knob. However, he was quick to stop his actions at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Sae?”

His head spun back quickly, an action he almost immediately regretted when his head pounded at the quick movement. Sae hissed as a result of the pain. Standing next to the staircase was you, eyes still tired from having just woken up.

“What are you doing up?” He asked. You, however, disregarded his question, getting closer to inspect him.

“You look like shit.” Your voice was laced with worry, matching your facial expression. Sae rolled his eyes, looking away from you as you reached a hand towards his face.

“Gee, thanks.” In any other case, you probably would have replied to his sarcastic comment with a snarky one. Though with his more than usual tired look and his deepened voice that sounded like he was on the verge of tears, you decided there were more important matters at the moment.

“I think you’re sick, Sae.” He scoffed lightly, clutching the strap of his bag. In the years he has been alive, the likelihood of getting sick was nearly nonexistent. So, it was damn near difficult to believe that he was now. 

“I’m fine, just tired.” He mumbled, his speech slowed more than it was usually. 

“Sae, you can’t go to practice like this. You’ll catch an even higher fever!” Itoshi found warmth in your concern. (But he’d refuse to ever admit that to you.) Despite this, he kept persisting in leaving. 

“It’ll be ok-” He paused abruptly, turning his head away from you and sneezing into his arm. He was definitely not making a case for himself in your eyes. 

“Yeah, I bet you will.” A distasteful look made its way onto his face at your sarcastic remark, to which you snickered. Sae shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes closing for what felt like just a second to try and stay in the moment forever. 

“…Sae!”

He reopened his eyes, narrowing his eyes at you as if to question why you yelled out his name when he was right in front of you. 

“Hm?” 

“I’ve been saying your name for a good minute-” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, “did you fall asleep… standing?”

The midfielder wished he could respond back to you, say something to assure you he was fine. Though he couldn’t. His throat burned, a scratchy feeling overcoming it every time he talked. Instead, he decided on a sound that was somewhere between a whine and a whimper, closing his eyes once more to restore the tranquillity he had felt just a minute ago.

And maybe staying home wasn’t the worst thing for him. He was tired out of his mind, his mind yearning to be put to rest, for his brain felt heavier with every sentence he spoke. So what was just a single break? It wasn’t like you were about to let him leave; why not take advantage of his situation?

You sighed once more, grabbing his arm to drag him back up the stairs. You were glad he hadn’t fought the idea of staying home from practice too much, though it wasn’t like you didn’t have a backup plan in case he was more persistent. Sae was too sick to realize you stole his keys from his pocket when he wasn’t looking and couldn’t leave even if he wanted to.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

You both get to the top of the staircase, the practice taking a slightly longer time than usual because you were dragging Sae behind you. Once the both of you made it to your shared room, he stripped off his bag and jacket, throwing both onto the floor because, at that moment, he couldn’t give a shit about either of his belongings. All he yearned for at that given time was being asleep beside you. 

Sae stumbled into bed, practically passing out the moment his head hit the pillow. You sighed, grabbing the duvet covers and placing them on his sleeping figure before getting into bed alongside him.

~

The sun in your eyes wasn’t such a great feeling. 

Having to be forcefully woken up because your eyes are being hit by something so bright it pains you.

You were in a similar predicament at the moment. However, you were stripped of the luxury of turning yourself away from the source of the sunlight so that your back was against the window to shield yourself from the sun. No, instead, Sae’s arms wrapped around your waist, head rested into your neck, his breathing tickling you ever so slightly. The way he positioned himself made it hard for you to move without waking him up.

You huffed softly through your nostrils, contemplating closing your eyes and returning to your slumber. The idea didn’t seem half bad to you; however, you had school, and if you didn’t get up to get ready soon, you would definitely be late. 

You managed to wiggle yourself out of Sae’s grasp, freezing every time he made a sound or switched positions. Ultimately, you managed to escape the bedroom without waking him, leading you to quickly grab an outfit and dart into the bathroom to prepare yourself for the rest of the day.

It turned out that you had lots of time to spare, resulting in you sitting on the kitchen island wondering what to do with the leftover time. You didn’t want to wake Sae because, even if he couldn’t see it, he was terribly sick. 

You weren’t blind to Sae’s poor eating habits. Because he couldn’t cook, he usually subjected himself to buying takeout if he couldn’t have a cooked meal with you. And, if he wasn’t going to order fast food, it was because he had forgotten about eating altogether. 

This led you to take the role of making sure he ate properly. You were pretty good at the task. However, it was hard for you to make sure he ate breakfast, as he woke up at a far too early hour of the day that you were not prepared to wake up at.

You put your phone down on the counter, stretching once before coming to the decision that you’d make your boyfriend breakfast. You wouldn’t be able to see him for most of the day due to your classes, and this would be the most caring thing you’d be able to do for him now.

It didn’t take you too long to make your first perfect batch of pancakes. After plating them and putting the dishes you used into the dishwasher, you tip-toed your way up the stairs and into your bedroom. You nudged the slightly closed door open with your hip, hands currently occupied with the food you cooked for Sae. He was still peacefully sleeping, soft snores leaving his mouth because his nose was clogged.

The corner of your lips twitched upwards at the sight of him, your brain poking at you to run a hand through his ashy red hair. You ended up giving in to the urge, setting the plate and cup of water on the bedside table as quietly as possible. Your hand first went to his forehead, nearly wincing from how hot it was. There was no doubt in your mind he was sick.

Your mind wandered off as you kept playing with Sae’s soft hair, not noticing how his tired eyes started to open slowly.

If there was a heaven, Itoshi Sae was experiencing it right now. 

Thanks to his career path, there weren’t many days that he woke up after you. However, today was different. Today, he had gotten to experience the feeling of hands raking through his hair, the scent of what he presumed to be breakfast filling his nose delicately. And, if that wasn’t enough, from the moment he opened his eyes, long lashes fluttering away from each other to reveal his beautiful blue eyes, he was able to capture the sight of you looking down at him.

This had to be heaven.

The euphoric feeling only lasted a minute, the symptoms of his cold hitting him like a truck soon after. He grumbled in annoyance at the pain that was shooting through his body, bringing the covers closer to his body to preserve some body heat.

You chuckled at his actions, sitting down on the side of the bed so you could talk to him. 

“How are you feeling, princess?” Sae furrowed his eyebrows at your sarcasm, sneering at you, which only made your laughter more prominent. His mannerism reminded you of a child who refused to go to school in the morning.

 “What time is it?” He asked in a dazed voice.

“Uh… 10:30.” You said, looking at the large bolded numbers at the top of your screen. “Shoot, I have to get going for school.”

You scooted your body closer to his face, pressing a kiss on his forehead before standing up to leave. 

“I’ll be back soon. Call me if you need anything-” Your words were interrupted by the redhead, who grabbed your forearm and forced you to sit back down on the mattress. You narrow your eyes at him from the sudden gesture, waiting for him to properly sit up before starting any banter.

“Sae, I really have to go. I’m going to be late.” He opened his mouth to say something but was quickly interrupted by a sneeze.

“Can’t you just skip?” The remark made you roll your eyes. Of course, Sae would suggest something like that.

“No, I can’t just-” You wanted to continue your sentence; tell him no because you couldn’t afford to skip another day. But when he was looking at you with slightly glossy eyes brows, an expression on his face that was practically begging you to stay with him, how could you possibly say no?

“Please?” He knew saying no to him wasn’t something that came easy to you, and he was using it to his advantage. You grumbled quietly, loud enough for him to hear but not articulate enough to understand what you were saying. 

Sae picked up his phone from his bedside table, shuddering at the cool air that hit his arm. He raised his brow when scrolling through the mass amount of messages he received from his coach and teammates. His confused expression quickly changed; his lips pursed as he read the messages.

When he fell back asleep, Sae forgot to inform anyone that he wouldn’t be coming in for practice. And because everyone seemed to depend on him (or at least what he thought), they were having some sort of heart attack from him not showing up.

The football player quickly typed a short, dry response to his coach before turning his phone off and throwing it to the side. His attention was back on you, who had gotten off the bed again and was about to put on a pair of shoes.

“Wow, you made me cancel practice just for you to leave me alone? I’m hurt.” The snarkiness in his voice made you scoff.

“Well from your peachy attitude I can tell your fever isn’t too high. I’m sure you can take care of yourself for just a few hours.” Sae puffed out his reddened cheeks, crossing his arms across his chest. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his mannerism.

“My love, do you want me to do everything for you? Would you like me to undress you and shower you myself?” 

The two of you both knew that you were clearly joking. It was apparent in the tone of your voice. However, seeing as Sae’s lips curled upwards into a sinister smile, you widen your eyes in disbelief. You swiftly walked towards him and flick his forehead to rid him of his weird, perverted thoughts.

He grunted from the slight pain he felt from getting his forehead flicked, narrowing his eyes at you as you smiled delightfully at his discomfort.

“I hope you die.”

“Awe, I love you too!”

~

It was stupid how quickly Sae got you to skip school. 

You were so persistent in leaving, allowing him to rest on his own without you distracting him. However, now that you had his head on your lap, you couldn’t imagine ever leaving him in the first place.

The two of you sat in the living room, the TV blaring noise from a show none of you were actually watching, instead letting it act as background noise. You scrolled through your phone with one hand, the other raking through Sae’s ashy hair. He, at some point, was also on his phone, though he was now sleeping comfortably with your favorite blanket.

Despite what you said earlier, Sae’s fever had started to rise, which caused you to worry more. You were used to common fevers, though he was beginning to exceed what could be considered the common cold.

The thought of calling the doctor wandered into your mind. You knew Sae wouldn’t be too fond of the idea and would try to convince you that he was perfectly fine. He would then later continue on to rant about how a doctor wouldn’t know what was best for him nor how he truly was feeling. (Well, at least that’s what he tried to convince himself from when he was a small child.)

 Despite this, you entertained your mind with the possibility of him having the flu. You definitely did not have the proper medication to treat the virus, and there was only so much that Ibuprofen could do.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the body in front of you shifting positions, moving from facing the television to facing upwards at the ceiling instead. You stared at Sae’s sleeping face for a good two minutes, contemplating once more the idea of making him an appointment. And, after letting out a soft sigh, you turned on his phone and went into his contacts to call his doctor’s office.

You only got so close to hitting the call button that you felt a hand grip your wrist firmly.

“Hey-”

A pair of bloodshot blue eyes stare up at you, a knowing look contained in them.

“What are you doing, mi amor?”

Fuck. Of course, Sae had to use Spanish pet names. He knew how quickly it made you fold, made you into a stuttering mess and forced you to tell the truth.

“I was just… calling your doctor.” The sheepishness in your voice warmed Sae’s heart, almost making him ignore what you said. 

Almost.

He quickly swipes the phone out of your hand, getting off your lap and scooting away from you and towards the other side of the couch. Your mouth was hanging slightly agape at his actions.

“You can’t be serious.” He folded his arms around his torso, knees bent towards his stoic and severe face. He was being dead serious.

“Sae you have a high fever, it wouldn’t be bad to at least check-”

“I’ll be fine. All some dipshit doctor is going to tell me is to rest and take some more days off. Days that I can’t afford to miss.” You roll your eyes at him. 

“Aren’t you the one who’s always going on about how annoying your coach is-” he took you off guard by throwing a pillow at your face, causing your posture to stumble a bit. You bit the inside of your cheek, a menacing look on your face. So that’s how he wanted to play?

“I’m going to beat you up right now if you don’t give me your phone.” You threatened as you fixed your posture, an arm reached out towards your boyfriend. He held it to his chest protectively, squinting at you as if he were daring you to try and grab the device out of his strong hands. 

“You’re acting like a child!” You complained, eye twitching at your boyfriend’s incompetence. You soon came to the realization that Sae was not going to reason with you and that you had to go for a second approach. 

Attack.

You quickly placed your phone on the coffee table to avoid damaging it. Sae noticed your new attitude and put his guard up. 

“You’re really going to fight a sick person? Wow.” You paid little to no mind to his speech as you rolled your sleeves up. 

“You forced me to, I never wanted to do this.” 

“Try me, loser.” 

You quickly jumped on top of him, a gasp escaping his lips the moment you’d done so.

“GIVE ME THE PHONE-”

He held the arm that held his phone as far away from you as possible, not having enough energy to do anything more than defend himself.

“Come reach it, shorty.” You knitted your eyebrows and smacked his arm hard.

“OW.” He hissed, instinctively putting his other arm down, using it to rub the one you hit. 

“You should be the last person talking about other people being short.” You grumbled, taking his temporarily stunned body as an opportunity to snatch his phone right out of his hand. Unfortunately for you, he was quick to react, tightening his hand around the phone. 

The back-and-forth fight lasted for five more minutes, ending quicker than usual due to Sae’s shortness of breath. In the end, his phone in your hand with him wheezing underneath you. You were also out of breath, head resting on top of his. On any other day, Sae would definitely have taken your vulnerable state to steal the phone back. However, he was on the verge of falling asleep again, exhaustion hitting him so hard that even the thought of lifting his hand filled him with dread.

“Aren’t you-” Sae went into a coughing fit, his lungs burning with each cough. “Aren’t you going to call my doctor?”

The sourness in his voice nearly humored you enough to laugh out loud; however, you, much like the boy you were straddling, were tired out of your mind. The idea of getting up, adequately dressing, and then driving all the way to the clinic made your body flood with dread.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, grabbing the blanket that was discarded just a couple inches away from the two of you. Sae’s lips curled upwards as you wrapped the blanket around both of your bodies. He decided, however, not to make a snarky or sarcastic remark on how you changed your mind, instead closing his eyes and letting sleep overcome him.

~

When Itoshi Sae woke up the following day, he was pleased to find that the sick feeling he had felt yesterday had vanished, thanks to your care. He still had slight coughing fits from time to time, but all in all, he had returned to his original state.

The football star didn’t waste time getting ready for his busy day, as he had double the work to do because he missed yesterday. 

He swiftly grabbed his bag off the floor of your shared bedroom, doing his best not to wake you up. He, however, was shown that his attempts were futile, the sound of you shifting in your bed alerting him. 

When hearing your movements die down, he started to walk out the bedroom door and into the hallway, twisting the knob so the door wouldn’t close too loudly.

Only then did he pause abruptly at the sound of two soft coughs from the other side of the wall. 

‘Shit.’

First time writing for blue lock ‼️ lmk how I did :))

[enigmatictypos]

Unenticing Hours (Mikage Reo/Nagi Seishiro)

One where stress, overwork and a bad stomach bug leaves the Mikage heir in tatters. College AU

Sometimes Reo wondered if everything he did was even worth the actual effort he put in. Over the past few months, since the beginning of semester, he’d been getting less and less sleep, his hours extending from early morning classes and stretching into evening practice and subsequently all nighter assignments and projects. 

That said - he did enjoy football practice, and he did love the courses he was taking at university. 

Sometimes though, he found himself desperately wishing that the twenty four hours of a day were to either slow down or just extend longer than they did - something that would give him the leeway to just take some time away from the field or his study table and actually take a breather. 

Which is what he did as he rested his head against the cool top of the desk next to his notes in class. The lecture was particularly tedious and covered a topic which Reo had already gone over with his father. Ideally irrespective of that, his eyes would be ever strained on the digital board at the front of the lecture hall, fingers scribbling down notes quickly and neatly, but today, something was different. 

With the throbbing pain radiating across the inside of his skull, paying attention to his professor’s words seemed to get harder and harder with every passing minute. He finally ended up giving up around five minutes ago, his head dropping into his arms as he shielded off the glaring lights in the room as an attempt to ease the steady pounding behind his eyes. 

There was only a couple of minutes left on the clock before the end of the class, so hopefully the teacher wouldn’t mention anything crucial to the semester. Plus, even if it did, hopefully the white haired individual sitting next him would have noted down something (even if he essentially scraped through this class by leaching off Reo’s notes). 

Operations Management was the only class Reo actually shared with Nagi. With their university majors being pretty different, it was perhaps a stroke of luck that Nagi ended up choosing this among his optionals, while the class remained one of Reo’s integrals. That said, he still ended up seeing a lot of his best friend given that they were both among the only three freshmen who’d been called into the first string for the team. 

Speaking of practice, Reo almost physically let out a groan. He wasn’t entirely sure why but a deep seated ache had been gnawing across his body since he woke up this morning and the notion of having to work his muscles while already sore was never exactly appealing, no matter how much you like a sport. 

Not to mention his headache didn’t seem to be easing up any time soon either… 

Maybe he was coming down with something. The thought occurred to Reo as a particularly nasty throb had him wincing - there had been a flu virus going across campus. Only last week Chigiri, his roommate, had come down with it so it would make sense if Reo managed to catch it from him. 

The realisation though wasn’t very pleasant. 

Midterms were approaching fast and quick and there wasn’t exactly any spare room of relaxation in Reo’s current itinerary. For all his academic brilliance, keeping up with the number of classes he had was in itself a superhuman feat, something which even a few hours less would impact. So actually coming down with something was a risky ordeal for him. 

He’d just have to swallow his symptoms down with medicine and water he supposed, if it was indeed what he thought it was. 

“Ne Reo-” a small, soft voice spoke up next to him, breaking him out of his thinking spree. Raising his head from his arms, Reo realised that he’d probably completely zoned out, since he’d somehow missed the class concluding and the teacher leaving the room. Nagi, who'd already gathered up the few stuff he’d actually lugged to class, was gazing at the purple haired boy with a look Reo couldn’t exactly put a label on. 

Perhaps it was confusion. It would make sense - after all, Reo was usually the one nagging at Nagi to not fall asleep during class. His questioning looked to remain unanswered as Reo’s mind suddenly went blank, another flash of pain vibrating through his skull, triggering a new sensation of discomfort in his stomach. 

Yup, definitely something wrong with him. 

“Yeahhh,” he mumbled out, “I’m fine, just a bit off colour today, don’t worry.” He however, didn’t raise himself to his feet just yet, the cool sensation of the desk feeling far too comfortable against his unknowingly burning forehead. The silence from Nagi surprised him a little but then to be fair with their very recent patch up after a relatively big falling out, they were still playing on eggshells around each other. 

It suddenly struck him though that the next hour was an off period for him - with his Statistics Professor having been invited to an All-Japan-Analytics Meet, the class had been suspended for a week, today being the fourth of the seven days. Which meant that he’d probably have time to catch a quick thirty minute nap back in his dorm room if he rushed. 

With newfound zeal in his limbs, he stood, only to have his hands shooting out, fingers clutching against the desk as a wave of dizziness slammed into him, strong and disorienting. Unlike a headrush though it didn’t clear immediately, leaving Reo with his eyes scrunched shut, knuckles turning white with how he was holding the desk to keep himself from falling over. 

The swirling sensation of the ground beneath his feet was just more than enough to promote his former sensation of discomfort to an actual defined sense of nausea. He felt a hand on his shoulder, cool fingers wrapping around the exposing skin where his shirt looped around his neck - familiar yet hesitant in the touch. Perhaps it was even more concerning that Reo’s instincts didn’t immediately have him moving away, them still not having reached the physical affection phase after their last argument. 

Great, now of all people Nagi knew something was wrong with him. 

Drawing in a breath to steady himself, he slowly opened his eyes as the nausea and dizziness both slowly ebbed away. He cast a sheepish grin at the white hair who was now looking at him with pointed concern. Nagi didn’t voice his questions, so it was left up to Reo to analyse the obvious question in the gaze, enquiring whether Reo was alright. 

Had it been anyone other than Nagi, his pale face and near-keeling over episode would have been enough ground to establish that he wasn’t in fact alright. But despite all his genius, Nagi was far too gullible, especially in front of Reo, who basically intended to make a living out of white lies and smiles. 

“I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he said, which wasn’t far from the truth, “Just stood up a bit too quick there.” 

Reo dealt Nagi a lot of bold faced half-truths and this was yet another one of the same. Nagi’s grip on his shoulder loosened hesitantly as he removed himself from Reo’s personal space, allowing the purple haired boy to breathe a bit easier. He looked suspicious but knowing him, he wouldn’t press into a matter (just how bad had he looked that Nagi hadn’t accepted what he said at face value?) 

“If that’s what Reo says…” he mumbled out, taking a few steps forward before stopping, an obvious notion for Reo to join him. 

That reminded him that Nagi too had an off period every Thursday. With them hardly having talked in the past week, they hadn’t been able to plan anything out (which in hindsight was a good idea since Reo didn’t exactly feel upto socialising right now). Nagi’s notion, though, probably implied that he thought that they’d still be spending the hour together, probably just sitting together in silence on the roof, while Nagi clicked away at whatever new video game had interested him. 

An appealing invite if his painkillers hadn’t been in the bedside drawer all the way in his dorm room, a fair walk away from the main building, and his body screaming for well, his bed in general. 

“Ahh,” he said, once again feigning innocence as he started gathering up his stationary, “You go on ahead today, Nagi, I have to go work on something in the library.” Yet another lie, but a selling one since never in the years they’d spent together had Nagi ever joined him on his library adventures, no matter the bribe. 

Nagi nodded at that - to be fair, the argument was believable since Reo had spent quite a few free periods and even lunch hours on study work this semester, trying to keep up with his own good grades. Whether those additional hours were good or bad was something only time would say. 

“Are you sure you’re alright though?” Nagi voiced, eyes moving down towards Reo’s hands, where he himself hadn’t realised they were trembling. Fisting them and stuffling them into the pockets of his loose beige flannel shirt that he’d unconsciously dawned upon his lilac t-shirt this morning. 

Reo nodded quickly, probably far too quickly for it to be nonchalant, but then if he was hiding something from Nagi, the white haired boy knew better than to try to poke it out of the Mikage. Those attempts never worked well, and the effort was probably quite misplaced. So with a nod of his own, and a small half handed wave, Nagi turned around and left the room, leaving Reo to collapse back into his seat, thoroughly confused on how even standing up had been exhausting. 

***

Whoever had come up with the notion that sleep made you feel better was an absolute lying bastard and they would not live to see the next morning if Reo managed to find out who it was.

That said, with his current disposition he almost doubted he’d make it to the next morning. 

If he’d left bad this morning, everything seemed to have heightened over the course of his “nap”. Which he’d conveniently slept right through his alarm and missed out on every other class of the day. In hindsight though, if he’d felt even a fraction of what he was feeling now he doubted he’d have been able to spend even a second in a crowded classroom. 

His skin felt like it was on fire, sweat poured down his body in gallons to the point where his inner t-shirt was absolutely drenched. His head hurt pounding fit to burst, each throb sending waves of intense nausea through his body which had him stumbling out of the bed and barely making it to the bathroom, before he was violently heaving over the toilet. 

He didn’t bring anything up though except mouthfuls of saliva, his chest and stomach in agony from the convulsions of the dry heaving. It left him panting and breathless, tears gathering in his eyes from the effort, frustration bleeding into every inch of his existence. Exhaustion creeping in Reo leaned his head against the edge of the porcelain bowl, sanitation temporarily forgotten as his body seemed to want to wring him out in a matter of hours. 

Another wave of nausea went over him as he was once again sent over the bowl weakly gagging, a thin stream of drool dropping out of his parted lips. Right since he was a child, Reo never had an easy time throwing up. Even when he knew that losing his stomach would probably make him feel better. Sometimes he’d spend entire hours hunched over the bathroom with either Ba-ya or his mother sitting beside him rubbing circles on his back. 

He most certainly missed them as yet another violent retch sent him bending over the toilet, unproductive yet ostensibly more painful. This round seemed to be particularly rough, heave after heave seemingly ripping his body apart in pain and exhaustion. 

Leaning back against the wall once that bout was over, Reo drew in a sharp breath, hand raising itself to his face to wipe off both the perspiration and the tears. A part of Reo knew it was natural to get unwell from time to time, the other part was so irrationally upset that he just wanted to curl into a ball and sob himself to sleep. 

The nausea had begun to take a backseat, the top concerns being replaced by his concern of whether or not he was fit enough to attend practice. Once again his brain found itself torn between rational and irrational - rational knowing well enough that he'd just worsen his own condition by even walking out of his dorm room while the irrational screamed in panic over how his position on such a top tier team could very well be shaken up over him suddenly missing practice. 

Maybe that was just the fever reigning his mind as he stood up, using the sink as support as he leaned over, turning on the tap as he just stood there, letting the cold water run over his fingers. Chigiri would probably have yelled at him for wasting water if he were here but Reo couldn't really bring himself to care - not when the cold water seemed to bring a, though minimal, relief to his burning body. 

It took him a few minutes of water running along his fingers and splashing into his face to regain a semblance of clarity. Looking into the mirror, he noted that his appearance had worsened since morning. His pallor was almost ashen, other than the feverish blush on his cheeks. His usually well maintained purple hair was an absolute mess with some parts sticking up and some parts matted down with sweat. To top it all off the dark circles under his eyes were probably dense enough for him to shrug them off as some variety of eye makeup. 

He sighed to himself, running his hands through his hair, the simplistic movement itching further at his deep boned exhaustion. Opening up the cabinet beside the sink, he quickly dry swallowed a fever reducer and something to help with nausea, hoping fervently that the pills didn’t sit heavier in his stomach, while simultaneously thanking heavens that Chigiri labelled the bottles for symptom management because he was not even in a place to attempt to figure out which medicine helped what. 

In hindsight, actually trying to go to the five pm practice in this condition was ostensibly dumber than Reo could physically even begin to imagine himself as. 

They’d barely even started warmups and Reo felt his vision swimming dangerously, peripheral range zooming in and out. His nausea had returned to full swing, the stomach calmers doing absolutely nothing to help there, as the organ writhed angrily under his skin. The turf under his feet felt far too unsteady, strong chills working down his spine, despite the fact that he was sweating profusely. 

He bent over, hands on his knees, eyes closed as he finally finished one of his workouts, understandably slower than his usual pace. His breath came short and gaspy, despite him attempting to draw them calm and deep to quell the nausea in his stomach. He felt a hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to look up. 

A familiar head full of long, vibrant red hair invaded his vision, concern flooding his roommate’s red eyes. 

“Reo-kun,” he said, voice attemptedly made gentle, “You’re clearly unwell, you need to stop pushing yourself,” Chigiri spoke, fingers squeezing tighter around the purple haired boy’s shoulder. The realization that Chigiri hadn’t needed much more than a look at him to say that he wasn’t holding himself up at all, was probably testament to how bad he was feeling, given that he was usually quite the reasonable and convincing actor. 

“I’m fine,” he forced out, between gasps. Curt and short, “It's just a cold.” 

Just a cold, my ass. Reo couldn’t help thinking as he spoke the words, back straightening up again as he gazed around the field, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Chigiri. The redhead was perceptive, much more so than Nagi, who had been the only other person to enquire about his condition today, and he knew that his lies were already falling short for this one. Ostensibly the fact that his eyes were likely to glaze over wouldn’t really help his case. 

“Reo,” Chigiri continued, as the hand left the taller boy’s shoulder, “Nagi of all people noticed, and Rin’s been giving you these odd looks and the captain is obviously angry. I don’t think you even begin to realise how you’re looking.” 

Reo’s hands ran along his face, a sigh escaping him, as he pressed down on his eyes, almost in an attempt to smother his face if possible. A small blush crept onto his cheeks which wasn’t directly associated with the fever, but more so the embarrassment that almost the entire team had been seeing through his facade. As a stab of pain once again reverberated through his skull, he didn’t bother to suppress the moan. 

“... my head hurts a bit,” he admitted, revelling in the fact that that was likely to be the understatement of the year. Chigiri’s look conveyed that his thoughts probably resonated with Reo’s own. The redhead’s hand moved down from his shoulder to settle along his arm, an offer for support that they both knew Reo wouldn’t take. 

Unless he actually passed out, his pride would probably make him walk out of the turf on his own, even if he had been sporting profusely bleeding stab wounds all over. 

Chigiri didn't, however, let go as the two made their way over towards the benches where the rest of the team were trying awfully hard to pretend that they weren’t looking in their direction. The attempt though was absolutely horrible. Their captain Sae had a pointed look on his face, which wasn’t exactly angry or malicious but held an odd sense of understanding. Then again, Reo assumed that with Sae’s own levels of dedication to the sport, it was quite possible that he too had ventured onto the field in a similar condition. 

Isagi and Bachira were both talking with each other, casting very unsubtle looks at Reo and Chigiri as the two of them made their way over, Chigiri helping Reo into one of the chairs, offering him a bottle of sports drink. While Reo accepted it, he didn’t really move to drink it, knowing that putting anything in his mouth right now would probably send him into another retching and heaving fit. Something which was probably inevitable at this point, but much preferred in the solitude of his dorm bathroom instead where the entire team could see him. 

“Reo, you weren’t alright earlier.” A familiar voice filtered through the haze that was his mind, as he looked up to face Nagi. The white haired boy wore his usual neutral look, but the emotion was evident in his round orbs as he spoke. Reo’d spent years with Nagi, enough to be able to gouge exactly what Nagi was feeling right now. A part of him was disappointed that Reo had lied, while the other part… probably was nervous about whatever Reo would say next. 

It wasn't a concern, because Nagi was likely not capable of actually feeling the amount of concern which would cause him to leave behind whatever he was doing and ask around. Or that’s what Reo told himself in the moment, the sudden emotion in the latter’s eyes, hitting his own, almost making him tear up. He bit his lower lip, head pointing down at the plastic grass of the turf once again. 

Sae came to stand in front of him, beside Nagi, voice holding the same contempt he seemed to always speak with. 

“Can you walk on your own?” He asked, a question Reo didn’t want to answer, because at this point he didn’t know if he could walk all the way back without passing out or throwing up or both of those. He didn’t voice that to the older boy though, simply giving him a sheepish nod. 

Sae wasn’t one to unnecessarily poke either so with his nod to match Reo’s he continued, “Then go get some rest before I’m convinced that you’re attempting to start the zombie apocalypse or something.” 

Getting to his feet though, proved to be another challenge as the moment he stood up, the ground shifted beneath his feet, sending waves of nausea and dizziness washing over him. His knees folded without much warning, as a whine escaped his lips. He’d probably have fallen to the ground if it weren’t for both Nagi and Sae’s reflexes as they both grabbed him by his arms, steadying him enough to keep him on his feet. 

Sae let go though, allowing the white haired boy to support most of Reo’s weight. And even in that fever-addled, upset condition, he was hyper aware of how close he was to Nagi, a form of contact that he hadn’t exactly willingly initiated. He closed his eyes, burying his face into the boy’s shoulder blade, letting himself feel that moment of weakness. He’d already lost the image he’d been attempting to uphold, why make himself suffer further? 

“He’s burning up,” he heard Nagi’s monotone speak, albeit it wasn’t exactly a monotone, when the slight spike of worry was evident in the boy’s tone. Who was he kidding? Obviously Nagi was worried about him. Maybe not to the extent Reo would be if the roles were switched, but he cared enough that Reo’s pain would make him drastically concerned. 

“You don’t need to leave practice,” Chigiri said, presumably not to him, “I’ll take him over to our suite, I need to get myself a hair tie anyways.”  

When Reo’s head finally stopped spinning, he moved himself out of Nagi’s grasp, his hand moved towards Chigiri who despite his shorter stature, quite comfortably draped his arm around his shoulder, the other arm moving to support him by the waist. There was a certain level of jostling though that seemed to set off fireworks in the young Mikage’s stomach, making him swallow down the saliva that flooded his mouth almost urgently. They’d barely reached the edge of the field when Reo realised he was fighting a losing battle.  

“Chigiri-” he managed to rasp out, before bringing his hand up to his mouth, pressing down in an attempt to coax his brain into not immediately triggering his gag reflex. 

But when did the universe really listen to him? 

With a violent retch, Reo tore himself away from the redhead, stumbling a few feet away. His fingers wrapped around the fencing of the field as he sank onto the concrete, knees being too unsteady to hold his weight as his stomach worked to expel all of its contents. 

For the moment, everything around him seemed to blur out, except the burning sensation of something thick and slimy crawling up his throat, as he helplessly gagged, a sour, rancid mixture of whatever he’d put into his stomach, pouring out of his lips in a gush. It was like a dam had been broken within him. He retched once again, the painful noise scraping his throat raw as another rush of half digested food made its way out of him, bitter and hot to the taste. 

It was probably the texture and smell which made his stomach turn worse, as it heaved and heaved, not even giving the boy the time to breathe between retches as each movement brought about small amounts of the slurry, which splattered against the concrete. Tears freely flowed down Reo’s eyes, a building panic growing in his chest, as spots danced in his vision. 

His body sagged further downward, his loose arm wrapping around his stomach in a desperate attempt to alleviate some of the agony he felt, but to no avail. The knuckles of the hand gripping the wire fence turned white as he heaved for what seemed like the umpteenth time, this time only bringing up burning stomach acid and bile, the liquid being painful enough to send him into another fit of tears. 

It was when he was finally reduced to simply dry heaving once again, stomach wrangled out and empty that he registered the two people on either side of him. Chigiri’s gloved hand was holding his matted hair out of his face as he kneeled beside him, now simply holding his head up, keeping him from face planting into a massive puddle of his own puke. 

On his other side stood Nagi, who was bent over, hand rubbing circles on Reo’s back. While the supposed massage didn’t do much to help Reo’s pain, the contact was what melted him, as he let his exhaustion get the better of him. His fingers uncurled from the fence, as he let out a pitiful sob. Turns out his position and his hand holding him up was his only source of support as his body tilted sideways. He probably would’ve hit the ground if it weren’t for a pair of arms steadying him. 

Through half closed eyes and his own panting breaths, he could hear a familiar voice speak. 

“I’ll take care of him,” it said, distant almost as though Reo was listening to someone speak through a wall of water, “He’s my…”

The rest of whatever the person was saying mellowed out as the darkness in Reo’s vision expanded. The last thing he registered was the same pair of hands lifting him off the ground, and the sense of temporary security he felt. 

***

Reo woke up feeling as though he’d been hit by a truck. 

It took him a moment to gouge his surroundings. He was… not in his room, that was for sure if the white ceiling in contrast to his own violet was anything to go by. The next thing he took in was that the room was rather dimly lit. Which was certainly a relief since his head was throbbing fit to burst. Did he end up getting a concussion during practice?

“Ah, Mikage-kun, you’re awake!” a slightly high pitched voice spoke up next to him, making him wince at the decibel as he moved his line of vision to the side, to catch sight of the dark haired boy with glasses break into a smile, “We were getting concerned that we’d have to get you to an actual hospital.” 

… Yukimiya Kenyu.

One of the only pre-med students on the football team who basically had the additive job of poking and prodding over any injuries or illnesses that the players came down with. 

“Yukimiya-kun-” he spoke, wincing as he realised how scratchy his own throat was. Bringing his hands up, he attempted to push himself up into a sitting position, only to have a rush of nauseating dizziness slam him right back into the mattress. Yukimiya invaded his direct vision again, face scrunched up in concern. 

“Hey, hey, take it easy there, Macho Man!” he called, “You’re severely dehydrated so don’t go making sudden movements, you will keel over.” He however, didn’t leave Reo the way he was, helping the purple haired boy into a sitting position, helping himself back up against the back of the bed to support himself. The exhaustion in his body was deeply embedded, but now that the memories from what had perspired began returning to him, he realised he was probably feeling a bit better. Still thoroughly and completely ill, but at least he wasn’t throwing up and passing out on people anymore. 

Speaking of people… it was then that Reo noted the mop of white hair which had its head buried in Reo’s sheets, asleep in a position that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. Especially with how tall Nagi was. He had pulled himself a chair and used the bed as a headrest - but knowing Nagi’s ability to sleep anywhere he wasn’t surprised to hear the soft snores emanate from the boy. 

Hesitantly, he reached out to run his fingers through the messy white locks, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Nagi had stayed by his side. 

Taking in the tenderness in Reo’s expression, Yukimiya chuckled, “This guy here, gave me quite the fright when he came banging at my door at two in the morning. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so worried,” the older boy recalled as his own gaze went over to the now asleep Nagi, “Apparently you weren’t able to keep anything down and you were speaking worrying things in your sleep.” 

“Ah…” was all Reo could say to that as he retracted his hand from Nagi’s hair to massage his own temple. The ever lazy Nagi had hung around to look after him when he was in such a bad condition, huh? Maybe all his doubts over the boy’s dedication towards him were moot after all. Yukimiya seemingly reading into his line of thought merely chuckled along. 

[emmie-writes-stuff]

Folks I wrote a Bachira sickfic and it’s up and posted!!!

The rating is T (for language)

Main relationship is Bachira & Isagi (not ship, although they are a major ship of mine)

It’s meant to be a loose 5+1 structure but idk if I fully got it down lmao

Give it read?

[sunshinesickies]

Here’s the second and final part of Weirdest Day Ever 🫶

*TW: slight descriptions of throwing up

Kara Danvers/Supergirl x Reader Sickfic

Weirdest Day Ever pt.2

No sooner are the words out of Kara’s mouth, you are back over the toilet, throwing up again. You feel your girlfriend’s soothing presence with you the whole time as she gently rubs your back and murmurers sweet nothings until you’re done.

“Do you think you’re done? Can I carry you to bed, love?” Kara asks as she holds you tightly in her arms after you had practically collapsed back into them, no strength left in your body.

You nod and Kara kisses the top of your head, then seemingly effortlessly, she picks you up and carries you to your shared bedroom, gently placing you on the bed.

After helping you into a fresh set of pjs and giving you some medicine, Kara tucks you into the bed then moves to sit cross legged in front on you, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of the blanket. Your hand rests atop hers and she looks at you as you run your thumb along the back of her hand and gaze at her with a soft expression.

“What wrong, Kara? You know you can tell me anything, right?” You rasp, brows furrowing. As reassuring as your words are, Kara shakes her head. “I-I have something to tell you, but-but well…well I just want you to know that I meant what I said earlier, I trust you completely and I love you, so, so much…but I haven’t been honest with you, y/n.” She takes a deep breath and as concerned as you are about what she might say next, you hold her hand tighter.

“Also, please know that keeping this from you everyday has been so hard because I’ve wanted to tell you since the moment I met you, y/n. I never thought I would care about anyone here in the way that I love you, a-and I never thought someone would love me the way you do. I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, y/n….” Kara pauses and slowly takes off her glasses, letting them fall gently to the duvet before taking her hair tie out, letting her golden locks fall around her face in a way you’ve seen before.

“…I-I’m Supergirl.” Kara exhales a shaky breath. You stay silent for a minute as you stare into Kara’s ocean blue eyes. Ones that are full of such love and concern, ones that you have seen every day for the past year and a half, the same ones you recognized earlier when the blonde heroine had saved you.

Now you know why. Memories flash through your mind, many of them the silly coverups Kara always had for being late or missing a date, forgetting to call or calling back in the middle of the night…you honestly don’t understand how just a pair of glasses kept you from the truth.

But then again, you feel now that deep down somewhere, maybe you did know but you couldn’t think it possible. All the missed dates. Days where you fell asleep or woke up without being in your girlfriend’s arms. The countless excuses and promises of strange absences being made up. It all makes sense now.

As much as you want to be at least a little bit angry, upset that Kara had hid something so big from you…you think you understand why. And there’s no way you can possibly forget all the good moments too. Her smile, her eyes, the way she always makes the room brighter. All the late night movies, walks around the city, countless hugs and kissed that always made your day.

The way her forehead crinkles when she’s worried, that cute thing she does with her glasses when she nervous, her all around adorable dorky-ness, the incredible intelligence you knew she has but didn’t show off. The way she makes you feel loved in a way you’ve never felt before. The way she always knows when you need her and the way she always knows how to make you feel better. The way she makes you a better person. The way she sees you for you.

You can’t imagine your life without Kara in it. And yeah, this will be different, worlds different. But you don’t want to be with any other person in that world other than Kara Danvers. And maybe you can finally return the favor and start to fully be able to understand who she is the way she fully understands who you are.

Your thoughts are pulled back when you notice you had broken eye contact, lost in memories for perhaps a bit too long. Kara looks at you now like she’s going to pass out waiting for you to respond.

“Y/n. Please, please say something.” She begs, a couple tears silently falling down her face, the moisture in her eyes adding to the light and crystalline glow of her sapphire eyes. You blink and look back up at her.

“So…if you’re an alien…y-you can’t get sick?” You ask suddenly. “What?” Kara’s brows crinkle in confusion. “Can you get sick, like I am now?” You clarify and to your happiness, Kara shakes her head.

“No, not normally, but I promise I’ll explain everyth…” You cut her off by throwing your arms around her and locking your lips to hers. Kara gives an adorable startled squeak but then quickly falls into the rhythm and wraps her arms around you lovingly as you deepen the kiss which only stops when you have to turn away to cough into your elbow.

Kara’s gentle hands find their way to your back once more, rubbing it lightly and helping you to breathe normally again. You take your hand in hers. There is a smile on her face but you can tell she was still unsure what you think about her being Supergirl. Guess the kiss wasn’t enough, huh?

You know Kara is smart, perhaps the smartest person you’ve ever met, but when it comes to love, you know all logic is left behind. That’s just what always happens, she is adorably oblivious to all things in the love department. It took you three tries before she finally realized you were trying to ask her on a date when you first met.

You smile as you gaze into Kara’s eyes, gosh you could get lost in them forever. “Kara, I love you.” You start, squeezing her hands gently. “I love you, every bit of you. Alien, powers, superhero, all of it. I think…I think we have a lot to talk about, but I know we can do this together because if you haven’t gotten the gist already, I really really do love you. I’m not planning on giving you up. Ever.”

You finish, the last bit fading out a bit as your voice breaks and you start coughing again. Ugh! Stupid flu. Kara disappears for not even a second and is back with a cool glass of water which you sip gratefully. Huh, maybe this whole girlfriend with superpowers thing is gonna be pretty cool.

Kara looks at you with complete happiness in her eyes and a smile as warm as the sun. “I love you too, y/n. I understand we have a lot to talk about but…Rao—you don’t know how relieved I am to know that you want this to work as much as I do.” She finds your hands and plays with them as she talks, her eyes never breaking contact with yours.

“Thank you for telling me, Kara.” You smile a bit but her’s fades. “I’ve wanted to tell you since the day we met, y/n. I was just worried that knowing my identity would put you in danger, but now I see that I can keep you safer this way.” She explains softly.

“Kara.” You smile wider, blushing a little. “I always feel safe with you. Superhero or not. Whenever I’m, with you, I feel at home.” A few tears fall down her cheeks as her heart swells with love for you. She tries to speak but can’t so her lips just find yours once more instead. You linger a moment before pulling away with a smirk.

“Did I just render the Girl of Steel speechless?” You muse lightly and she laughs as you go to kiss her again but a low buzzing interrupts the moment. Kara leans away, pulling out her phone.

“Shoot.” She sighs, her face falling into a frown. “What’s wrong, love?” You ask, brows equally furrowed. Kara looks back at you with a sad, guilty look on her face. “That was Alex. She said Supergirl is needed at the DEO. I have to go.” She whispers the last part, already standing up.

“Oh, um, okay…wait-what’s the DEO?” You’re pretty sure Kara had once said her sister works for the FBI. You never questioned further. “It’s..well-I’ll explain later, I promise.” Kara says, disappearing and reappearing in the blink of an eye in her super suit. She walks back over to you.

“Will you be okay? The last thing I want is to leave you here alone like this baby.” She puts her hand on the side of your cheek. You offer a small smile. “I’ll be okay, Kara. I understand now that I know who you are. Go be a hero, but promise me you’ll be safe?” Your words are loving and truthful. Kara nods her promise.

“I’ll be as quick as I can. You just rest, alright? If you need me, just call my name. My super-hearing will pick up your voice and Il’’ be back in a flash.” She makes another promise and you nod as she kisses your lips once more.

“Love you.” You whisper against them. “I love you too.” Your girlfriend speaks then is gone, leaving you sitting there with your thoughts. Your mind spinning and thinking about what just happened.

Of course you love Kara with all your heart, so you can’t find it in you to be mad at her. Not even a little bit. You are however, in shock. Your girlfriend is Supergirl. Kara, your Kara is Supergirl. Every time you watch the news and see the heroine defeating a villain or getting beaten by one, that had been her. Your soft girlfriend, the embodiment of a golden retriever with a personality like sunshine is also the strongest, most badass person, or well, alien, on the planet.

You can’t help but feel a sense of pride, but also a feeling of great curiosity. You always had the feeling that Kara wasn’t giving you all of her, which you were happy to dismiss because of how loving and wonderful she is in every other way. Now you know why.

Your heart feels light at your next thought. You can’t wait to get to know this side of her, to fully understand the love of your life to the best extent you can. You yawn, exhausted from the day and from being sick, so you lean back into your fluffy pillows, pull the blankets around you and fall asleep in seconds.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep for but it definitely doesn’t feel like long enough with the way your head is pounding. You groan at the stabbing pain as suddenly, a huge wave of nausea washes through you and your heartbeat turns rapid. The room spins as you jump out of bed and stumble to the bathroom, collapsing on the tile floor and throwing up into the toilet.

You moan loudly as your stomach clenches with pain before you are throwing up once more. Not thirty seconds later you hear a soft woosh, and immediately after you feel Kara’s calming presence behind you as she kneels down behind you.

She pulls your hair out of your face and holds a steady hand on your back, rubbing slow circles along the damp fabric of your shirt. “You’re okay, love. Just get it all out. I’m right here.” She hums gently in your ear and you can feel your heartbeat begin to slow at the sound of your girlfriend’s soothing voice.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, love.” She adds when you turn more into her comforting hold and she continues to run her hands along your back until you feel the slightest bit better. She tucks you into bed after carrying you there and joins you seconds later.

Wasting no time, you sink into her warmth. You never really took notice of how Kara always seems to run hot, but now you wonder if it’s because she isn’t human. You let out a tired sigh. You really feel like shit, but when Kara starts running her hands through your hair and gently trailing her fingers along your back, you find a little comfort from your flu from her small simple actions.

You start to drift off, almost asleep when Kara speaks, her voice low. “How’s your stomach doing, love?” You hum at her words, not even opening your eyes. “A bit better.” Kara kisses your hair. “Good. We’ll wait a bit longer to see if it settles then we’ll get some food and medicine in you, okay?”

You try to focus on her words but you’re just so tired. With a yawn, you burrow your face more into Kara’s side. “Jus’ wanna sleep.” You murmur. “That’s okay baby. Sleep is good. We can get you medicine later. For now just sleep. I’ll be here, love.” Kara hums and you hold her tighter in response.

“Can you tell me a story? Something happy?” You ask softly. You’re so damn tired and want nothing more than to sleep but you know that’s not going to come easy with how awful you feel and so you really just want to hear Kara’s voice since it always brings you so much comfort.

“Of course babygirl.” You could hear the smile in her voice. “Can I tell you a story from my life before I came to Earth?” She asks, a little hesitantly but you just smile against her.

“I’d love that, Kara. I want to know everything. I want to know you.” You feel her soft lips on your temple before she speaks, low and soothing.

“Well, I’m from the planet Krypton, but before I came to Earth, my father, Zor-El would take me to see dozens of other planets in our solar system. Some covered in sandy whit beaches with glowing purple skies. Some had thick green jungles and the most fascinating wildlife. But my favorite, gosh my favorite was this one planet we would go to often. Just us. It was so peaceful there, the skies has this magnificent glow to them, each sunset an endless stream of colors that you could see for miles….”

You make a mental note to ask more about it when you wake up, but for now, you’re content to just let Kara’s words blur together as you slowly drift back to sleep, knowing that she was there and that with her by your side, nothing bad will ever happen. Not even a stupid little flu can get you down.

[tummysick]

Because we desperately need wlw sickfics, I wrote one. Here's Part 2: Liz

Liz’s roommates had decided to throw a party to kick off their sophomore year. Having it in their space, and therefore being on cleanup duty, sounded annoying, but as a social butterfly, she didn't take too much convincing. Liz didn't love drinking. She wasn't big on the taste and as someone who was both emetophobic and secretly emetophilic, drinking was complicated for her. Her strategy so far in college had involved bolting as soon as anyone looked the slightest bit queasy and hardly drinking anything herself to stay out of danger. The next day, however, she would want all the details.

Liz knew her emetophilia could exist in the real world. Her senior year, Liz had a massive crush on a girl, and when they went on an end-of-year field trip to the mountains, her crush got motion sick. Liz remembered watching the color drain from her crush’s face and the way her body trembled. Liz had offered her her hand, and at every turn, she'd clenched Liz's hand and swallowed hard. When they’d finally gotten to the mountains, she'd tugged Liz’s hand, whispering “please,” and pulled her around to the back of the entrance building, where she finally emptied her upset stomach. Liz rubbed her back and thought, okay, there's no denying things now as each heave made her throb between her legs. But it had been years and beyond some late-night fantasies college had placed her phobia front and center. 

Liz noticed the pretty blond girl in the denim jacket the second she walked into the living room. She looked a bit awkward and out of place, but she was absolutely stunning. The girl turned, scanning the room, and Liz caught sight of her pride pin. Her heart skipped a beat. Liz was thinking about how to casually initiate conversation when she noticed the girl looked a bit off. The girl looked disoriented and… sick. Usually, this would be where Liz would bolt, but when she saw how the girl stood, stumbling forward, and crumpled to the floor with a terrified look, Liz froze. Maybe pretty girls override the phobia? Damn, this girl was definitely going to get sick, and Liz needed to get her out of there, but just as she took a step towards her, the girl began to vomit. The powerful torrents of liquid splashed back onto the girl's hands and shirt. Liz liked caretaking but not the actual substance. Her stomach did a flip. People were filing out of the room, and some asshole made a rude comment. Come on, Liz, she needs you. Liz winced, swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and moved to crouch beside the girl.  “Hey, hey. I got you. Come here.” She helped her stand, but immediately the girl slumped into Liz’s arms, dizzy. Okay, and this is why we do push-ups.

Liz gathered the girl into her arms and carried her to the bathroom at the end of the hall. The girl was sobbing. Liz felt her tears and shuddering breath wet against her neck as she carried the girl into the bathroom, where she set her down, leaning against the bathroom wall, trying with all her might to be as smooth and gentle as possible. I need to check how coherent she is. Liz had spent a night googling alcohol poisoning her freshman year, and before anything else, she needed to assess if this was a 911 situation. “Hey, look at me.” She cupped the girl's face, tilting it up and locking eyes with the crying girl. Her eyes were bright blue and bloodshot from the crying and strain of being sick, but they focused on Liz just fine with a mix of fear, desperation, and confusion. Wow she is SO pretty. “Good, you're doing amazing. Can you talk?”

“I---I’m so embarrassed!!” she sobbed.

Although parts of the girl’s story about how she'd come with a friend and felt nervous about being a freshman, and had too much to drink were lost, it was only because of how heavily she was sobbing; her speech wasn't slurred, and she seemed alert. “Oh honey, hey hey. You're okay. It's going to be okay.” Okay, where are these pet names coming from?? “Do you need a hug?”

The pretty blond girl just about threw herself into Liz’s arms, clutching a fistful of Liz’s t-shirt as she sobbed into Liz’s chest.

“Ohh buddyyyy. Shhh, it's okay. I know. It's no fun. You're gonna be alright. I'm right here”

Suddenly, the girl stiffened, and her breath became short and rapid. Oh no.

“Hey, are you feeling--”

“I think I'm gonna be sick again”

She recoiled from Liz’s arms, launching herself towards the toilet.

"I don't want to be sick again. I can't do it. It hurts so bad. You should go. This is disgusting”

“I'm not going anywhere and you are not disgusting. Shhh. Hey, try to breathe. It's gonna be okay. I'm right here. Can I touch your back?”

“Please. Please, I'm so scared. I'm so scared. I can't. Not more. No. Oh, please, no. No no no”

“I'm right here. Can you try to take a deep breath for me?”

The girl took one slow, shuddering breath. Some tension left her shoulders as she melted into Liz’s hand. 

“There you go. You're doing so good”

Maybe she can breathe through this. As soon as the thought crossed her mind Liz saw the girl blanch and flinch in discomfort. Okay never mind yep this is happening. 

“I can't, I can't, I'm gonna be---”

She gagged hard, unproductively, gasped for air, and then projectile vomited. The next several minutes were spent with Liz rubbing her back and cooing comfort as the girl vomited again and again. Each bout racked her body and barely gave her time for a single breath before her body spewed forth more bright red liquid into the toilet. Her puking was so forceful; with each wave, she released a deep guttural hurling sound as her stomach attempted to ring out every last drop of the offensive liquid. She was completely at the mercy of her body. After her stomach was empty, she continued to dry heave—retching, gagging, coughing, and sobbing until abruptly she’d be thrown forward by another brutal heave that would at best bring up only a mouthful of bile. Finally, the dry heaves let up, and with one last weak gag, she spat into the toilet and pulled back, completely exhausted. Without thinking, Liz pulled her into her arms. 

The girl moaned.

“I know. That must've really hurt.”

“Oh my god, it hurt so bad. It still hurts so bad. My stomach. My stomach…” she whimpered

“Do you think having my hand on it would help?”

“Scared,” she whined

“No, sorry! That's okay! I don't want to hurt you.”

The girl looked into her eyes and, without breaking eye contact, gently guided Liz’s hand under her shirt to cup what had to be the softest, sweetest stomach in the world. The girl let out a soft “mmm” before her eyes fluttered closed. Almost immediately, she drifted off. Liz leaned against the wall, cradling the sleeping girl, feeling her gurgling, churning stomach gradually calm beneath her hand. Slowly, she, too, drifted off to sleep.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Last sickfic! Can you believe that September's over?

Mood music that helped inspire the writing :)

Voted Sicktember prompt - Time cares for a delirious Warriors

The room was bathed in a warm, orange glow, but it couldn’t be colder. The light of candles danced merrily, but he couldn’t feel more somber.

Hands trembled as they reached out. Illness, the stench of it, ripped through the air.

The golden locks, usually fluffy and perfectly tamed, lay in tangled clumps, plastered to too hot skin. Lungs that usually bellowed with laughter or barked sharp orders were wheezing, pitifully letting air try to move through restricted passageways.

Since when had such battle-hardened warriors been bested by such an invisible enemy? Since when could a war go to a standstill as his army fell apart from the inside? He couldn’t let this happen, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

The once proud, tall warrior looked so small in the bed. The dependable captain had fallen, succumbing to something he couldn’t combat with a sword. A small part of Time squirmed in painful, righteous anger – of all the ways to die—

Pale, blue lips, sunken eyes, wheezing and vomiting. His troops were dying. His troops were dying and he couldn’t do a damn thing.

Warriors shuddered, eyes staring off into the void, his mind lost far, far away. He hadn’t slept in nearly four days due to his illness, and it was finally taking his mind as a result. Time did everything he could to soothe the captain’s anxiety as he tried once again to prop himself up in the bed. He’d already fallen twice getting out of bed – that was when the eldest Link had decided to stay in the room with Warriors. He couldn’t be left unsupervised, even in the safety of his own ranch.

The men looked to him for help, for answers. He couldn’t provide any. General Impa wasn’t here, the princess wasn’t here. It was just him and Lana, and she was doing all she could but—but it—

It wasn’t enough. And she was beginning to grow ill as well. And they couldn’t lose her.

“Help,” Warriors whimpered, confused eyes glistening with tears.

“I’m here,” Time immediately whispered, taking the younger man’s hands in his own. “I’m here, Link.”

They were all going to die. He couldn’t do anything to stop it. Would he die too? Was this how the Hero of Hyrule was destined to fall? He hadn’t even defeated the enemy. Would an illness take him? Would he disgrace his destiny in such a manner? How many lives would be lost because of it?

“I’m sorry.” The captain’s voice broke, actively crying. He stared at the ceiling. Time could only imagine who he was apologizing to.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, brushing hair out of the man’s face. “You’re okay. Don’t apologize.”

Warriors’ gaze remained distant. Wherever he was, Time couldn’t reach him. But he would try, blast it. He would try.

What if they all die because of me? What if… what if I don’t want to die?

I… I don’t want to die.

A sob choked with a cough, and Warriors’ face turned red as he gagged on phlegm and spit alike. Time stood, quickly turning the captain to the side so he could cough up whatever was stuck in his throat. The door to the bedroom creaked as the others peeked in worriedly. When Twilight caught Time’s eye, the elder shook his head, and the younger retreated, herding the others away.

The flame on the nearest candle flickered from Time’s movements and nearly went out. Time held his breath as he watched it a moment, hand on Warriors’ back. The flame pulled left and right, nearly extinguishing. Warriors’ breaths rattled as if death itself were stealing air from his lungs.

The wick slowly burned, flame settling in a stubborn pattern of gently rocking to and fro. Warriors took a deeper breath. Time released the one he’d been holding.

A hand brushed Time’s knee, and he looked down to see Warriors trying to crawl out of bed again, halfway off the mattress. Time bent down, hands wrapping around his arms just under his shoulders, and gently pulled the young man back to the center of the bed.

“Link,” Time said gently, kneeling to be at eye level with him. “We’re at the ranch. You’re safe. You’re very sick. You need to stay in bed.”

Soulless eyes stared into his own. The face was far too pale, the chest far too still. Would they all look like this? There wasn’t even blood. He was used to seeing blood.

Eventually the wick would burn to its end. Eventually the gentle light in the room would vanish. Would it last the night? Would it hold on to whatever it could grasp, burning away at what little remained? Would it stubbornly cling to life until the sun could rise?

“Captain,” Time said, louder. “Captain, come back to us.”

Warriors’ hand snaked around Time’s wrist, making the elder jump slightly.

Everything was so far away. So quiet, muffled, like he was buried alive. Goddess above, he didn’t want to die, please, he didn’t want to die. Not like this. Let him die on his feet, in battle, like it was meant to be.

It was meant to be like that, right?

“Help,” Warriors pleaded, eyes almost seeming to look at Time for the first time all night.

Time’s heart and stomach clenched. “I’m trying, Link.”

The candle abruptly went out.

Time’s head whirled to the nightstand, an irrational fear gripping his soul, and he immediately felt out for Warriors, who was trembling.

“Captain,” Time said warily, holding the man tighter. “Come on now, Link. Talk to me.”

Warriors grew still.

“Link,” Time pleaded, shaking him.

A warm glow filled the room alongside a cool breeze. Time blinked tears away, his distress hidden in the darkness that was quickly receding, and he saw the others in the doorway once more, a candle in each hero’s hand.

Twilight entered first, eyes flicking between Time and Warriors, face stony. The others filed in behind him, expressions far too eerily familiar to the night Time thought he would lose his descendant.

No one dared say a word. Time’s death grip on Warriors slackened only a hair, land he looked at the ground, unable to offer the others any comfort. The flames flickered brightly in the quiet night, holding the darkness at bay, encasing Warriors in light.

[vonpharma]

w[h]ip wednesday: blocked by sicktember edition

welcome to whip wednesday! did you know the sicktember mods blocked me despite me being an avid fan of theirs for years, contributing 60 works and over 190k words, and hyping up their event in my social circles the whole time? i still do not know why this happened! i am pretty sure it's because i posted some very lukewarm critique about how the event was being run, on my personal blog where they had to go digging to find it.

i'm obviously heartbroken and pretty stressed about that but i've got a whole spreadsheet of planning done and a shit ton of fills ready to go so whatever. highly recommend not supporting the event this year or for the foreseeable future (there's talks of a new mod. if you're reading this, wanna unblock me?) because i'm starting to think the event runners might just be mean!

do, however, lavish me with praise. i will be writing sickfic until the end of the fucking universe, and when the new sickfic event makes their grand debut i will be kissing their feet.

here's some franmaya from my day 4!

With a confirmation of their reservation—curious, Franziska’s twisting expression seems to say, why would one need a reservation for a botanical garden?—the single employee standing stationary heaves the lock off the gates. They part as if heralding the arrival of something far grander than two young prodigies celebrating an anniversary—not even a proper one, something far more juvenile. Still, Maya feels nothing short of royal as she’s entering the sprawling, lush grounds—and the wonder sewn into every square of Franziska’s face tells her she’s not alone.

“Maya,” Franziska says, wandering toward the boundless stretch of camellia bushes, “what did you… the whole place is…”

“Empty?” Maya grins. “Yeah, happy anniversary, babe. Go wild.”

And Franziska looks at her like she’s hung the stars. How long Maya has waited for that look.

Because Franziska is rich. Loaded, even. There was so little you could buy for the woman who could buy herself anything, especially on Maya’s comparatively meager income. Her only saving grace was in the fact that Franziska was a workaholic to a fault who rarely thought of leisure, or pleasure, or earthly desires—so much so that the religious acolyte from the mountain commune was somehow less detached from those pleasures than she. Maya couldn’t often pay, but she could conceptualize.

This time, though. A year’s worth of saving, and planning, and praying… and finally, with all her ducks in a line, Maya was able to find a gift befitting of the wonderful creature who’d allowed her a space in their shared life. A few hours in the moonlight, wandering around the emerald sprawl of the biggest botanical garden in all of SoCal, with no one to bother them but the bugs chirping in the thicket.

A Franziskan paradise. A perfect night. Or it would be, if not for…

Another muffled sneeze escapes into the collar of her winter jacket, and it takes all of Maya’s willpower not to groan in sore irritation on the tail end of it. They’re starting to hurt, now, barreling through her with little regard for the shredded state of her throat or the date with the pretty girl she is currently trying to go on. It’s been relentless ever since last night, and Maya had hoped and prayed to Mystic Ami herself that she not be sick on her two-year anniversary that she’d spent ages arranging. As fate would have it, though, even Mystic Ami could not cure the common cold.

(Despite what the dusty tomes buried in the archives back home said….)

Luckily, even overdoting Franziska seems far too distracted right about now to notice that’s what’s happening. If this were any other situation, Maya’s sure Franziska’s searing blues would lock onto her like a vulture that’s just spotted a bloating corpse. Thankfully, the flowers are very distracting.

“It’s all…” Franziska is powerwalking from bush to bush in an erratic, excitable zigzag. “Maya Fey, is this whole garden nothing but camellias?”

“I dunno babe,” Maya sniffles once, twice, “you’re the expert. You tell me.”

Coming to a slow halt, Franziska allows herself to look out across the expanse—flowers as far as the eye can see, still in full bloom despite the bite of winter. In all colours, in all sizes, lit only by the far-off insomnia of the city, the moonlight peeking through the cloudy skies.

“I just—” Franziska turns back to Maya, glowing brightest of all, “—can’t believe the variety here, look at all this…”

Maya wanders closer to her side, feeling sunlit despite the chills that are quickly growing harder to ignore. Franziska kneels down to graze a gloved thumb across a velvety red petal, and Maya squats far less elegantly beside her, tilting her head awkwardly back in an attempt to keep her nose from running. 

“I can’t believe it,” Franziska marvels, “Maya, this is quite literally a historical specimen. You’ve brought me to the home of the oldest camellia in all of Southern California.”

“Yo, for real?” Maya stares at the flower, completely unremarkable to her own untrained eye. “Did this bitch know the dinosaurs?”

“No, nothing like that…” Franziska chuckles, continuing to cradle the flower in her hands as though it is the most precious thing in the world. “They’re Asian in origin. This one in particular is one of a kind, having traveled here from Japan in the 1800s.”

“Woah. Just like me for real.”

As she says it, Maya presses her cheek against Franziska’s own, that brand of endearing obnoxiousness that the two of them loved so much. Their hair bunches and tangles in between them, but Franziska leans into her beloved rather than away.

“I didn’t know winter flowers were a thing,” Maya lies, prompting her girlfriend to spring back to her feet, gesticulating vastly and passionately with her arms. 

“Oh, they’re some of the loveliest flowers in existence!” God, she’s so cute when she’s infodumping. “Camellias are some of my favourite of all, in fact I’d even heard of the breadth of this collection of them before coming to the states! It’s comprehensive reputation is largely the work of a single German botanist who traveled here in 1878, so naturally I was already in the know…”

Ever the savant, she carries on. Maya thinks she could listen to a phonebook being read, so long as it was drenched in Franziska’s wonderful, captivating, rounded accent.

[caspersickfanfics]

Sicktember Prompt List 2024

If there are specific prompts you'd like to see, please request! Adding some additional information about what you'd like the fic to look like is encouraged but not required.

[OPEN]: These are prompts that I like, or I feel would fit particularly well with characters I write for. Please feel free to request!

[SKIP]: These are prompts that don't particularly draw me to them, or may push me out of my comfort zone in some way. If there are any that you'd really like to see, feel free to request, but for these prompts some additional information about what you're looking for (the fic scenario) is required. I may be more likely to refuse asks for these prompts.

[IN PROGRESS]: I already have plans for these. Feel free to request, but I will be more likely to reject asks for these prompts unless I really like the idea. However, if I can reallocate overlap fics to other prompts, I will try to!

[SKIP]: I will not be writing for these prompts under any circumstance due to personal reasons. I (of course) have no issues with others writing for these prompts, they simply are not my cup of tea. Please do not request them from me!

Priority will be given to my favorite characters within my preferred fandoms. Check out my Rules page for more about that.

Daily Prompts

1. “I’m not hungover, I’m just sick” (Or vise versa) [OPEN]

2. Too Much of a Good Thing/Overindulgence [SKIP]

3. Campus/Con Crud [SKIP]

4. “Great. I Got a Cold for My Birthday.” [SKIP]

5. Rogue Organ (tonsils, spleen, appendix, gall bladder ect…) [SKIP]

6. Dizziness/Vertigo [IN PROGRESS | Sick Cyno]

7. Borrowed Hoodie [IN PROGRESS | Sick Lu Guang]

8. “The closest doctor is probably hours away from here!” [OPEN]

9. Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker [SKIP]

10. The Sniffles ™ [SKIP]

11. Medieval Treatment [SKIP]

12. “You’re not fine, you’re throwing up/coughing up a lung” [IN PROGRESS | Sick Tighnari]

13. Mononucleosis [SKIP]

14. Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas [OPEN]

15. "Who decided __ is ‘sick people food?’" [SKIP]

16. Toxin/Poison [IN PROGRESS | Sick Ito]

17. Brain Fog/Spaced Out [IN PROGRESS | Sick Cyno]

18. “My body is one big ache” [OPEN]

19. Hypochondriac Tendencies [SKIP]

20. Medication Bribery [SKIP]

21. Anaphylactic Response [SKIP]

22. “You didn’t use my cup, did you?” [SKIP]

23. Under a Spell [SKIP]

24. Tales From the Waiting Room [SKIP]

25. Summer Flu [OPEN]

26. Heart Condition/Cardiac Arrest [SKIP]

27. “This is non-negotiable" [OPEN]

28. Pulling a ‘Ferris Bueller’ [SKIP]

29. Sick on a Road Trip [OPEN]

30. Past Prompt of Your Choice! [IN PROGRESS]

Alternative Prompts

Hospital Bed [SKIP]

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” [OPEN]

First Aid Kit [SKIP]

Flushed Cheeks [IN PROGRESS | Sick Tighnari]

Doctor's Note [SKIP]

[theriverbeyond]

salut!!! do you have any fave griddlehark au fics?? your taste is immaculate so i would appreciate the recs

omg thank u!! and YES i have tons of recs. I have started a couple of bookmark collections on ao3 for my personal favorite fics, THREE of which are about griddlehark!! As a heads up I only made them somewhat recently, and am therefore trying to catch up on my bookmarks backlog, so they aren't complete but I recommend everything in them :D

Griddlehark Modern AU bookmark collection (what it says on the tin, all fics >10k words) Griddlehark Canon Divergence AU bookmark collection (Basically any AU ft. griddlehark with canon divergence from any period in the timeline, including regular canon divergence & more drastic alternate paths such as Nova AU, BOE!Gideon, Her Divine Highness AU, etc) Griddlehark Misc AU bookmark collection (Any non-canon, non-mundane AU)

for specific fic recs, just off the top of my head:

Waiting and Better Days by badgerjaw (Griddlehark modern AU sickfic & hurt/comfort, made me cry (positive), really beautifully written)

I am one of the young women who was rescued from the Locked Tomb cult, AMA. by mintpearlvoice (formatted like a reddit AMA, funny but also angsty in the best way. what can i say but them <3)

literally anything written by @valancietrinit/valancytrinit, especially if you like your alternative universes with an angsty modern flavor they have some utterly FANTASTIC oneshots here, literally no words u just have to read them and experience it for yourself

hold you like a weapon by @gideonisms/GingerAlchemy (ballet fake dating AU with pitch perfect griddlehark dialogue and banter. holding them in my arms)

The Heart Is Hard To Translate by JustBeCos (BOE!Gideon AU, Harrow is captured by BOE and Gideon ends up guarding her. One of the most scrunchable Harrows ever, with SUCH a well written Gideon as well, tears my heart out with each update!!!)

Mors Vicit Omnia by @four-for-fidelity/WalkingDisaster (forensic anthropology AU that has me by the THROAT!!! in suspense, truly one of the Fics Of All Time, to me)

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by @neornithes/pipistrelle (MOBY DICK AU where the scions of the Houses are called by God to go on a Ressurection Beast hunt. Once again, truly one of the fics of ALL time, the way this fic re-interprets Resurrection Beasts, Lyctorhood, the River, and necromancy in general is just beyond fantastic)

[sehtoast]

Nyquil and Bribery (Depowered Homelander x OC Sickfic) All of You is Left to Love ch10

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: No plot, just sickfic fun. Nyquil is gross.

Warnings: None.

Fic Directory

Misery.

This was pure fucking misery.

"You're not dying, Johnny."

And that has to be a lie.

But surely it couldn't feel this bad, right? All of his life, seeing the roaches around him with their little ailments– their sniffles and sneezes, their disgusting coughs– convinced with every fiber of his being that they were being dramatic.

So he must be dying. That's the only thing that made sense with every violent cough that rattled him.

His one comfort: the cool hand pressed to his forehead, checking his fever before another round of medicine.

"I mean… it's your first time having the flu, so it's gonna feel bad, y'know?" Ben murmured as he poured a bitter, blue liquid into a small plastic cup.

Homelander cringed at the sight. He hated the taste so fucking much. Couldn't taste half of what he ate, but his tongue could register the vile medicine just fine– go figure.

Ben had told him it would be like black licorice if it were dipped in pure menthol. It was accurate, but somehow so much worse– enough to make him gag and beg for mouthwash of all things.

"You're not makin' me drink that again, are you?" His words slurred slightly, voice nasally and unbecoming of the man who once held more power than God himself could ever dream.

"Mm, no." Ben hummed, his smile sympathetic. "Just pouring it out so it's ready for bed. Lucky for you, just some Tylenol and Mucinex for now."

"Oh thank god," he whined, leaning back against the mountain of pillows damp from fever sweats. All of the air conditioning and fans blowing on him did nothing to help, and his body worked hard to sweat it out.

Absolutely miserable.

"Actually, I was thinking of swapping out the sheets so they'd be dry for you. Maybe toss you in the tub for a bit," Ben ran a hand through his damp locks, ruffling them slightly. "Up to you."

A dry bed sounded nice…

He nodded.

It was a chore to get out of bed. His body ached, especially his back. But, as sure as the sun would rise, his little spider was there to snatch him off his feet and carry him.

As humiliating as it had been, he'd needed help on the first day. He'd felt so horrible that he didn't eat or drink all day. That, combined with the fever, and… well.

He learned the hard way that walking while dizzy was dangerous.

Since then, Ben practically became his nurse. He took off work– shirked his heroic duties to stay home and take care of him to the point he outright ignored the occasional sirens.

He only left for cold medicine and takeout.

The bath water wasn’t quite hot, but not cold, either. Something about not agitating the fever– but it felt incredible nonetheless. Bubbles floated at the top, the scent pleasant even through his congestion.

"M'gonna leave the door open. Holler if you need me, okay?"

He nodded and sank down into the water, eyes fluttering shut.

In a perfect world, he'd be able to hear every breath, every movement Ben made while stripping the sheets and covers from the bed. He’d hear the way Benny bickered with the fitted sheet that he could never quite get right on the first try, or maybe he’d smell the little specks of lemongrass oil he liked to fling on the mattress.

The humming as he worked.

The sigh of sympathy as he removed damp pillowcases.

The intense deliberation between flannel or microfiber sheets.

Instead, he got to sit there and shiver– body frozen despite the heat both in and outside of him. Simply trying to submerge further, damning both his height and the cramped tub that he couldn’t sink fully into the warmth.

He got to dwell on all that he'd lost– and how he wouldn't be like this now if he'd never let his guard down.

Vulnerable.

Weak.

Human.

Homelander hadn’t heard the shuffling of sock covered feet enter the bathroom, nor did he notice the fingertips that dipped into the water.

“You ready?”

He’d have jumped if he didn’t know better. Instead, he just groaned.

Ben insisted he not lift a finger to help– that he only sit there and tolerate his coughs and sniffles while being towel dried.

“I’m not totally helpless, you know.” Homelander blurted out, a hint of irritation in his voice. He gazed down at Ben, who had knelt before him to dry his legs. He meant to say more, but was stopped by a cough rumbling deep in his chest.

“Since when don’t you like being doted on?” Ben asked, eyebrow arched. He meant nothing by it, of course, but the look on John’s face told him all he needed to know.

This was a matter of wounded pride.

Of course it was. Being sick reduced Homelander to a state far weaker than he already was. Reminded him that he could always be knocked down another peg, even when he was sure he’d already reached rock bottom.

Ben rose, standing on his toes to press a kiss to the tip of John’s nose.

A million words danced on the tip of his tongue, but none would remedy feelings like that. So he settled for just leading Homelander back to bed, where they stayed for the rest of the afternoon to relax.

Until, of course, it was time to go to sleep.

“No– Ben, no! I’m not doing it!”

“C’mon, you know it helps you sleep.” Ben had straddled him, holding that little cup of foul medicine as though it wasn’t pure evil. He giggled at John’s protests, wondering if this is perhaps how his parents felt trying to convince him to take his medicine as a child.

“I…” Homelander seemed to pause as if to weigh the options of sleeping or coughing all night. His expression fell, becoming even more serious. “Sweeten the pot, Benjamin. You gotta do better than that.”

The wall crawler feigned offense.

“Fine. How about a kiss?”

“Not good enough.” John groaned, leaning back into his throne of pillows. “Do better.”

“Johnathan!”

“It’s like drinking sewage!” He countered.

Ben sat back for a minute, deep in thought, eyes flicking to Homelander’s face every so often until the perfect idea hit him.

“What if I…” He leaned forward, coming in close to whisper promises of bedroom shenanigans so filthy he dare not speak them aloud. “...and I’ll even let you tie me up with my webs. Deal?”

Without a second of hesitation, Homelander snatched the cup and downed it with all the enthusiasm of a shot. He didn’t even cringe.

“Deal!”

[enigmatictypos]

My Very Own Blog!!!!!

Hiiii I'm Sara!! Sooooo after a world of contemplation i decided to finally start my own sickfic, hurt/comfort blog!!!!! Woohoo (i know that was cringey 😭 but in my defence I'm excited) 

A special thanks to @pokemonispain for their amazing content and offering me my much needed inspiration and longing to be able to start this blog!

So starting off I mainly write emeto, fevers, faintings, injuries and stuff but I'm more than willing to delve into other genres and such! Feel free to put in your requests and I'll try my best to provide!!

Here's some of the fandoms and characters I'd be best at writing as per my current analysis of my capabilities!! 

Genshin Impact :: Aether, Scaramouche, Tighnari, Kaveh, Kaeya, Ayato, Childe, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Xingqiu, Al Haitham, Beidou, Ningguang, Sara and ostensibly more!! 

Mo Dao Zu Shi :: Wei Ying, Jiang Cheng, Wen Ning, Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, Xiao Xingchen and I'm open to exploring more characters too!!

Heaven Official's Blessing :: Xie Lian, Feng Xin, Mu Qing, Hua Cheng, He Xuan, Shi Qingxuan 

My Hero Academia :: Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shoto, Kirishima Eijiro, Aizawa Shota, Jirou Kyoka, Todoroki Fuyumi, Dabi, Geten, Amajiki Tamaki and more!! 

Haikyuu :: Oikawa Tooru, Sugawara Koushi, Yaku Morisuke, Semi Eita, Hinata Shoyo, Yahaba Shigeru and more! 

Blue Lock (honestly a very high writing muse) :: Mikage Reo, Nagi Seishiro, Chigiri Hyouma, Bachira Meguru, Yukimiya Kenyu, Itoshi Sae, Itoshi Rin and more!!! 

Sk8 :: Kyan Reki, Chinen Miya, Sakurayashiki Kaoru, Hasegawa Langa, Kikuchi Tadashi

Fate Anime Series : Tohsaka Rin, Shirou Emiya, Fujimaru Ritsuka, Gilgamesh, Enkidu, Kingu, Ishtar, Ereshkigal 

Seraph of the End : Hiiragi Shinya, Ichinose Guren, Ferid Bathory, Hyakuya Mikaela, Sanguu Mitsuba, Jujo Mito 

Free!! : Nanase Haruka, Serizawa Nao, Matsuoka Rin, Tachibana Makoto, Hazuki Nagisa, Ryugazaki Rei, Kirishima Natsuya, Kirishima Ikuya, Hiyori Toono and more!!! 

(Red = Highest muse)

I write works for both romantic and platonic ships so feel free to request in any combination!! If I'm uncomfortable with writing anything I'll let you know!! 

These are honestly just some of the ones I'm highest musing right now ajdhksjfj so please do drop requests for me to work on. 

Feel free to text me whenever you wish and my inbox is always open for friendly faces!! 

[maochira]

o┤*｀3´*├o request rules!

read this before requesting or else i'll haunt you in your sleep.

YES!

committed relationships (romantic, queerplatonic), platonic, familial (siblings, parent!character, etc.), rivals/enemies

reader types: genderneutral [I used to do male!reader and lesbian fem!reader but decided to go back to only doing gn requests.]

fluff, angst, hurt to comfort, hurt no comfort, sickfic, etc.

drabbles, headcanons, scenarios

in-universe violence/injuries (meaning: injuries that fit the universe of your request, as heavy violence can make sense for Kenganverse for example, but not necessarily for Ao Ashi.)

FANDOMS AND CHARACTERS!

For the following fandoms you can request ANY characters, unless stated otherwise! I want to challenge myself and be open to anything.

One Piece (pre-timeskip, since I'm not caught up with the manga yet)

Kengan Ashura/Omega

Fire Emblem: Three Houses/Hopes

Fire Emblem: Engage

STAR: Strike it Rich

Ao Ashi

Baki

[in case you came here because of my Blue Lock writing, I no longer do requests for that!]

NO!

death of reader or a character who isn't dead in canon, self-harm, incest, stepcest, pedophilia, alcohol, drugs, pregnancy, vomitting, sex, eating disorders and disordered eating behaviours

out-of-universe violence/injuries

reader with specific body types, skin colour, real world-ethnicity or -nationality (in-universe is okay, for example reader being from a specific place in an FE: Engage request)

reader being a parent

tiktok trends, anything related to idols or celebrities (I have no idea about pop culture and all that), superhero/villain AUs

reader with a specific mental disability/condition/illness/disorder/etc.

KEEP IN MIND...!

I'm most likely to write a request if you provide a scenario. Give me more than "character x reader."

Have basic etiquette. Hello, please, thank you - basic vocabulary.

Don't elaborate your request too much. Don't send me a whole wall of text. About 5 sentences should be the maximum in your request.

I might not end up writing your request, or I might take a while with it.

[autocann1bal]

whoever asked for my lockwood and co playlist, you are in for it :)

so ive decided to give the link to the playlist as well as come up with scenarios for each song so this is. gonna be a big doc. (also book spoilers)

heres the link to the actual playlist (ps if anyone knows the artist please let me know!!)

luv l8r - mom jeans im going to be honest, stole this from a fic, not much to say, just a song that reminds me of them

september - sparky deathcap the instrumental just gives cozy vibes, like something theyd listen to together whilst reading in the library, possibly cuddled up on the couch who knows. maybe even a cheeky little george pops in to bring them more tea, and sees them cuddled up on the couch and smiles before leaving the tea at the door as not to disturb them (alternatively: he joins them bc romantic locklyle + qpr george is a wonderful thing)

buzzcut season - lorde LOOK IDK ITS JUST SO THEM I CANT EXPLAIN IT THEYRE JUST SO. its a song with such a nostalgic feeling and i feel like it fits them, its a sort of montage song, at least to me. its a song that reminds me that theyre kids, because they really are just kids being put in these awful situations.

stars will fall - duster yet another library song, less romantic this time id guess, more just all 3 of them reading respectively in the library. lockwood probably reading old newspapers, lucy some sort of novel, and george either reading his comics or researching for a case.

drip drip drip fall - ewy a lockwood song, do with that what thou shalt :)

main character syndrome - wilbur soot another lockwood song. hes got main character syndrome and we all know it. seems a kipps vs lockwood sort of song yk? the lines "its not a problem its his niche" and "he smiles with only half his face" feel so very lockwood to me.

evans song - flower face OMLGFHKJGFHKJFJGH. its lucys song to lockwood. we get plenty of lockwood being a pathetic simp, but what about lucy? "to think i thought ive loved before, to think i fought so many wars" feels like a lucy line. she loved norrie (romantically and platonically (personal hc)), but shes never loved someone the way shes loved lockwood. theyve saved eachother countless times. i love them <3

shadow moses - bring me the horizon my playlist is. all over the place and you can really tell with this one. im not really sure specifics for this one but its definitely an angsty song so something along the lines of lucy getting ghost locked and lockwood panicking -> "can you tell from the look in her eyes/we're going nowhere"

call me what you like - lovejoy feels very "lockwood using holly as a replacement for lucy after she leaves" sort of deal. i will go more in depth on this one if anyone would like but i fear it may make the post longer than it needs to be just please dont attack me over this dhfdfgkjg.

a pearl - mitski HMHMMHMHMH necklace. the pearl is the necklace, lockwood is the war, shes fallen so deep in love. again this is post her leaving, pre her return. shes in an inn somewhere swirling the necklace around her fingers, missing him more than anything, thinking he didnt want her there. pain :D.

long long time - linda ronstadt MWAHKAHKJDFG this ones for the tlou fans. yall know :)

under the weather - corpse like i said. very all over the place playlist. yet another lockwood angst song, probably some sort of sickfic type deal, but more lockwood needs a mental health day and lucy (+ possibly george, depending on your personal hc (i am so mentally ill for romantic locklyle + george qpr)) caring for him and just. cozy vibes but also really sad bc <33

all we ever wanted was everything - bauhaus RAHHH SHOW CANON SONG. its just so them <33

blue hair - tv girl YOU CANT TELL ME THIS ISNT A LOCKWOOD SONG ITS SO HIM CMON. minus. the. misogyny yk

chemistry - kimya dawson lucy song [everyone gasps]. 'how did we end up here?/you said happenstance' hmshdhrg lucy asking lockwood how they ended up in the Consensual Workplace Relationship and they just talk and talk and talk afterwords, probably sometime late morning yk cozy just woke up vibes.

clementine - elliott smith herrhfhf scrungly soft locklyle vibes in the morning, waking up together, getting ready for the day together, they end up dancing in the kitchen to this song smiles i love them cries wails sobs

bouquet - ichiko aoba do i know what shes saying other than the flowers? no!!! is it cozy vibes? yes!! they are falling asleep after a long day listening to it i cant explain why

empire ants - gorillaz ft little dragon i. honestly do not know. another song similar to buzzcut season, feels like a reminder that theyre just kids. very well may be a lucy breakdown song who knows :)

it will come back - hozier we got our first hozier song boys. lucy leaving, lockwood breakdown, listening to this on repeat hoping wishing praying that she'll come back.  wishing more than anything.

rule #27 - drunk on pride - fish in a bird cage lockwood is constantly drunk on pride, everyone knows it, everyone feels it. this is probably something along the lines of lucy and george being worried for him as he goes into a particularly dangerous job, fully confident and all to prideful. he comes out of it alive, but damaged.

tree hugger - kimya dawson im a bitch for kimya dawsona and fluffy ships but this also is a sort of 'they all wish they where somewhere else, but are happy with eachother too' kind of thing which proabably doesnt make much sense bUT IT MAKES SENSE TO ME OK CSHHSHSHSH

https://open.spotify.com/track/1F9f5t7GZk7aJZNGZIbfqP?si=c653de10148f4de5 <- link because youre nuts if you think im attempting to type out morse code lockwood just being a pathetic simp. probably watching her dance in the kitchen, late at night when neither of them are supposed to be awake, admiring everything about her till he eventually joins in on the dancing, they dance together into early hours of the morning before she carries him (YEA SHE CARRIES HIM WHAT ABOUT IT) up the stairs to lockwoods room, where they sleep for the rest of the day :>

locked out of heaven - bruno mars Ik the song is relatively sexual but we arent going there dw. just more lockwood being a hopeless romantic and being wildly in love with lucy, lucy is his heaven and he wishes to be nowhere else but with her at all times.

teenage dream - katy perry yk i had too. again, theyre teenagers, they act like teenagers. probably the song playing in lucys/lockwoods head constantly because shes just so giddy about their silly teenage love.

answering machine - ruby haunt to much happiness, angst now. a song lucy had on repeat walking the streets of london early in the morning to get coffee after she had left lockwood and co. maybe even walking past portland row, missing it dearly. little does she know, lockwood sees her, he hasnt slept a bit since lucy left, he usually just stares out the window into the night. but one day, he sees her walking past. he doesnt get out of bed that morning.

sleep thru ur alarms - lontalius i said we where done with happiness. more lockwood mental health issues but this time its the aftermath. lucy sitting in her room after a particularly bad fight with lockwood that had turned into him collapsing in her arms. shes just thinking about everything he said.

the first punch - pierce the veil im gonna be honest i meant to take this one out but its just there now i got nothin im low on gas and you need a jacket - pierce the veil i think lucy just like this one idk

heart-shaped box - nirvana lockwood feeling awful about asking lucy for help, sitting in his room thinking about it.

safeword - tv girl lucy telling lockwood about her time in her old town. about her old home.

fine - lemon demon me when i have like 8 million songs abt them being teenagers doing silly teenager things.

chloroform girl - polkadot cadaver UR GONAN TRY AND TELL ME THIS ISNG LOCKWOODS MUSIC TASTE BE FUCKOING QUIET he likes this song :)

swear to god the devil made me do it - the front bottoms god tfb is just so lockwoodcore. its just so him i cant explain it you understnad me maybe hopefully

flying model rockets - the front bottoms HOHOHOHOHOHOHO so lockwood dont you think. dont. dont you think. please agree with me.

blondie - current joys more cozy library/morning vibes. maybe some soft domestic little kisses as a treat.

young - vacations back to the angst. more pining and mourning after lucy leaves hee hee.

pretty boy - the neighborhood HES A PRETTY BOY SHE THINKS HES A PRETTY BOY THEY ARE PRETTY TOGETHER I LOVE HTEM CRIES CRIES CRIES

pretty boy - tv girl be quiet ik they have the same name they are so drastically differnet vibes. something something lucy thinking shes not good enough for lockwood bc she grew up poor and he was a rich little bastard /aff. but yea late night angst

it almost worked - tv girl RRUUFUFU angst they are so sad sad little people lucy is a sad little lass in her tiny little town she will never get out sobs.

space song - beach house wails cries sobs screams them. i will not elaborate.

golden hour - JVKE oh my GODD lockwood is such a hopeless fucking simp. hes such a stupid hopeless little simp. for her and her only all he looks at is her shes the best thing ever shes so beautiful all he does is take her in. they are in love.

who is she - i monster he doesnt believe she exists. shes not real. shes in his dreams. hes having a breakdown :)

always forever - the cults back to happy!! they are in love!!! always forever!! they will be together forever!!!!

gilded lily - cults SOBS SCREAMS CRIES WAILS EATS THEM THEYRE JUST KDIS THEYRE FORCED TO DO THIS HORRIBLE JOB BUT HTEY ARE JUST CHOLDREN THEYRE JSJSUT KIDS DJFGHJHA

pretty when you cry - lana del rey god theyre so sad. george lucy comfort lockwood that is all thank you.

carmen - lana del rey oh deary. oh lockwood oh my poor bbg   

paper doll - flower face this is so lucy. shes a fragile paper doll and lockwood cares for her. but she feels like shes not enough she feels unworthy. lockwood is to good for her. 

 the night we met - lord huron OH MY GODDDD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD theyre so they mean so much to me im crying you understand i dont need to explain.

paper doll - flower face this is so lucy. shes a fragile paper doll and lockwood cares for her. but she feels like shes not enough she feels unworthy. lockwood is to good for her.

angela - flower face can you tell i like flower face. remember lockwood being a hopeless simp?? lucys turn!! lucys turn!!!!!!! shes so simp shes so simp but in such a sad way shes os in love with him but shes so worried he'll leave.

spiracle - flower face hee hoo hee hoo lockwood breakdown. more lockwood breakdowns, but this time its before he and lucy where together. its just him panicking late at night about his love for lucy, afraid he'll end up killing her with his love because nothing good comes from letting people in. 

jupiter - flower face THEY FEEL SO SAFE TOGETHER THEY ARE HOME TOGETHER THEY ARE EACHOTHERS HOME. lucys home is with lockwood and george at portland row :DDDDDD

small world - jack stauber cozy coffee run vibes ykyk domesticity

death cup - mom jeans 'i think its bout time i warned you i might cry in front of you' oh come ON thats so lockwood this entire song is just lockwood opening up to lucy.

legit tattoo gun - the front bottoms lockwood tfb agenda is spreading. 

insomniac - memo boy lockwood insomniac real hes so not sleep the dark circles are so visible im. emotionally unstable.

post to long. need part 2.

[totallyexhausted]

Part of a Hirano sickfic (with his fam)... I’m trying guys lol

...Her fingers running through Hirano’s blonde locks, brushing his bangs away from his blue eyes before tucking a few strands behind his ear. Truthfully, she hated the blonde hair and the earrings, but neither her nor her husband were going to stand in the way of Hirano expressing himself. Especially since he’d had such a hard time fitting in in middle school. It was heartbreaking to know he wasn’t the same kid they’d raised. He wasn’t open with others the way he used to be. Middle school hadn’t been kind to him… hadn’t been kind to a sweet boy. Because of that, Hirano learned to lock himself away, learned to keep his feelings inside, his thoughts, himself… until he broke, until he yelled or screamed or cried or fought… until he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

 “These are new,” his mother said gently, ghosting her finger over the blue earrings. A gift from Kagi...

..........

.... Hirano felt his face blush. His parents were always like this. They weren’t overbearing or suffocating… just kind and gentle and nice. They were always open with him, trusting him, not afraid to show their emotions or wear their heart on their sleeve… but they were a little older than most parents, and more passionate. They weren’t afraid to express themselves, express their emotions, something Hirano had tried and got bullied for in middle school.

He hadn’t found a balance and because of it was the constant target of fights and taunts in grade school. He remembers crying, yelling, screaming at his parents while they just sat there, letting him lash out, letting him take his anger out on them because it was their fault he was a pushover… at least that’s what he thought. What he told them. It was their fault he was getting bullied… they weren’t mad. Not then.

Eventually, Hirano learned to hide himself through a tough exterior. People tended to stay away from you if you looked like trouble… and the fact that he’d been in more fights than anyone in his class helped. He didn’t like fighting, and he’d tried to avoid it, but he learned to stand his ground, he learned how to take a punch… and how to give one.

By the time he reached high school, everything became easier. He’d dyed his hair, got piercings, managed to perfect a cold-hearted stare, and deflect a conversation, or at the very least, shut down a conversation he didn’t want to have. Middle school had taken him, a sweet boy who wore his heart on his sleeve and tormented him until he crafted a suit of armor others refused to mess with. He learned to close himself off; opening up to only those he trusted… but that circle was small. Really damn small.

It wasn’t like Hirano could do no wrong in their eyes because God knows he’d fucked up more than he could count. Most of the time he was lectured; they talked about his actions, what he could have done differently, what he did and why he did it, and why he was being punished, then he’d accept his fate. But despite all the times he’d been grounded, or the time last year when he’d been brought home by the police for doing something stupid with Sasaki, Hirano had only been yelled at twice in his short existence. Once by his mother, the other, his father… both for fighting...

....Even when his father went through a depressive episode, Hirano tried returning the favor. He’d sit with him, sometimes talking, sometimes in quiet, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he leaned his back against the wooden headboard or sitting on the floor next to the couch, listening to the sound of his father breathing. He knew there wasn’t much he could do; that he could fix… when his father was having a low period… but he wanted him to know that if he needed Hirano, he was there. That although he might have felt alone, he wasn’t… or at the very least, he didn’t have to go through this alone.

           He’d become aware at a young age that his father dealt with depression. He was quieter sometimes, reserved, distant; his mother wasn’t. She was loud and brash, and she loved hugs… She’d explained to Hirano when he was 6 that sometimes, “Papa was just sad and there wasn’t much they could do to cheer him up.”

           It wasn’t until he reached middle school that Hirano understood what that sadness was. How it affected you. How it hurt you. He’d started sitting with his father just so he wasn’t alone. Most of the time, Hirano felt completely useless, and he fucking hated that. He hated feeling useless. Watching someone he cared about sick or hurt, and not being able to help…

I promise it’s not ungodly sad- just really Hirano getting sick while visiting his parent’s because he has to get his “sweet” side from somewhere; flashbacks to him when he was little/ growing up, a look inside his parent’s relationship with him and themselves, flashbacks to Hirano with Kagi including him protecting or defending Kagi during a fight (I need to see Hirano fight because he’s supposedly good), and maybe him taking care of Kagi when the kid overexerts himself/ his muscles, and another flashback, along with Hirano shifting through his own emotions :) A basic sickfic showing where Hirano gets his sweet side and why he hides behind a tough exterior :) Based on the information pulled from the light novels, manga, and anime.