#dc#batman#dc comics#bruce wayne#batfam#dc fanart#dick grayson#tim drake#batfamily
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craving some good fluffy sickfics for the black phone and IT any recs?
headphones
school bus graveyard fic, if you are following me for kpop or pjo fics this is not that! but i thought id share 😝
little footsteps
set about three ish months after tbp1
request from @cozyvanillacashmere
Finn can’t sleep, but what else is new. Ever since he escaped the grabber, it’s not surprising that falling asleep has been challenging. No matter how many night lights he has, when he closes his eyes, the darkness returns, and he’s back in the basement. Every creak is the sound of the grabber walking down the stairs with a plate of scrambled eggs and another game to play with him.
When he finally drifts off to sleep, he’s woken up again moments later by his brain convincing him of the grabbers footsteps down the hall. He knows it’s not real. He knows that he’s safe, at home, and the grabber is dead. He opens his eyes, shaking himself awake and waiting for his ears to realize what he already knows. These footsteps aren’t grabber sized, they are little girl sized. And they’re followed by the careful sound of a door being carefully opened and closed, and a less careful thunk. Then one more sound, one that Finney’s mind had definitely not made up.
He climbed out of bed and started down the hall to the closed bathroom door. He knocked once. No answer.
“Gwen?”
He peaked through the doorway into the living room, seeing his dad on the couch out like a light.
He knocked again. “Gwen, I know it’s you.”. Finney sighed, expecting to get no response. He didn’t want to barge in, but knew what he heard. Finally, he heard his sister whine from behind the door, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of gagging. This was permission enough for Finn, pushing the door open and taking his place behind his little sister like he’d done when she’s been sick before, keeping her quiet so she wouldn’t wake their father. Before, he’d kept her quiet to not anger him. Now, he just wants to let his father rest. Finney’s not the only Blake who’s had trouble sleeping lately.
He gathered her long brown hair from his sister’s face, ignoring the wetness of the pieces in front, just in time for Gwen to lurch forward with another strong heave and pour of vomit. Tears slid down her face from the effort.
“You’re okay Gwenny.”, the boy whispered.
“Did I wake you.” She said between coughs.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He said, which was mostly true.
“You should go back to bed” She sniffed. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me.”
Ever since their mom died, her brother had always taken care of her.
“Why not?” Finney asked, rubbing circles on her sweaty back. She tried to respond, but was met with another round of vomit.
Finn knew why.
“We take care of each other. Nothing can change that.” Not even The Grabber.
Gwen leaned into her brother, exhausted. He grabbed a piece of toilet paper, wiping her face and flushing the toilet. He felt the heat radiating off of her. Since his time in the cold basement, Finney can’t remember when he last felt this warm.
“You good to get back to bed?”
“No. Still nauseous.”
So they stayed there, on the cold bathroom floor. Finney stood up, gently moving her off him. He opened the cabinet, happy to see exactly what he was looking for. He sat back down beside his sister, new wielding a thermometer and hairbrush. He took her temperature, unsurprised at the number reading 102.2. he sat down on the edge of the tub beside her, running the brush through her hair slowly, careful not to snag on any tangled bits. Gwen seemed to relax. It’s weird seeing her so calm, without even a hint of her usual fierce attitude and sarcasm.
By the time her long brown hair was brushed out Gwen had begun drifting off, her head resting on the toilet seat. He pulls a hair tie off his own wrist and starts braiding her hair. It’s not the neatest braid in the world, but it’s better than he’s done in the past.
“Gwenny.” He whispered.
She mumbled a response.
“You need to get to bed. That’s nasty anyway.” He said, gesturing to her head on the toilet bowl. She groaned, but started to push herself off the ground, swaying as she stands Finn wraps an arm around her, guiding her back to her room.
“I can walk on my own dipshit.” There’s the spunky pre-teen he knows.
“Sure.” He says, tightening his grip.
As soon as they reach her bed, she burrows her head below her pillows, holding one stuffed animal against her stomach. Finney pulls over a trash can and is happy to see a glass of water already sitting on her nightstand.
“Drink some water and then you can go back to sleep.”
She groans again, but sits up, her eyes remaining closed. She reluctantly takes a couple sips of water until her big brother is satisfied.
“Okay. Scoot over.”
That night, all three members of the Blake family were finally able to sleep.
(Until Gwen woke up to throw up the water she just drank.)
Perfect Date
The cutest most romantic date (in my opinion at least) is a picnic. The two demigod lovers Percy and Annabeth are both romantics, just like any other human. Normally, they don’t get to see each other in person aside from their summertime stays at camp half-blood. Of course, they facetime almost nightly, but it’s not the same. So when Annabeth finally came to visit, Percy wanted to do something special for Naturally he thought a picnic would be a cute idea.
There is a park not far from Percy’s house they made plans to meet at. Percy went to the store and grabbed a pretty bouquet of flowers he knew she would like. Then he went to subway and ordered them both sandwiches with all their favorite toppings.
Percy arrived at the park ten minutes before they planned to meet, so he could set up. He layed out a floral blanket in the grassy area just stray from the playground. He placed everything down in a calculated manner, creating a pinterest worthy image of a perfect picnic. He saw Annabeth riding his bike towards him, carefully pushing down the kick stand and hopping off.
“Why’d you ride my bike all the way here? I would have driven you if I knew my mom couldn’t drive you!” he said, worried he’d already ruined his perfect date.
“Relax, seaweed brain, your mom is actually the one who gave me permission to use your bike! I wanted to. It’s a beautiful day out.”
That’s his girl. She wants to see all the beautiful sights, even if it’s just a normal neighborhood and average weather.
“Alrighty then. Have a seat m’lady!” He grinned cheerfully, handing her the flowers he’d picked for her.
“Oh Percy, these are so pretty! And they smell great. Thankyou!”
Perfect. Annabeth liked the flowers, and of course would like the sandwhich. This date is truly perfect.
For the next hour, the pair chowed down on their sandwiches, chatting and laughing and having so much fun.
When they were done with their lunch, they started to run out of things to say.
“Let’s go play on the park!”
“That’s for little kids seaweed brain.”
“Who cares! Besides, no one else is here anyway.”
Annabeth couldn’t argue with that. First, Percy and Annabeth sat down beside each other, holding hands and swinging as they had seen all the cutest couples do before. They started to swing higher and higher, until finally Annabeth let go of his hand and both their swings went crazy in opposite directions, the two laughing and squealing along with it.
Soon enough, they dismounted their swings to explore the rest of the playground. There was this spinning equipment, almost shaped like a pogo stick, only if it had a circular base and rotated.
“What’s this for?” Annabeth asked curiously.
Percy had grown up at this park, and of course knew that you sit or stand on the bottom and someone can spin you around and make you super dizzy.
“It’s fun! Sit on it, I’ll show you.”
Annabeth was excited, and of course sat as instructed.
“Criss cross apple sauce, and hug your arms around the middle part.” Annabeth of course complied.
“Okay… 3… 2…. 1!”
On one, he spun her around with all is might, making her scream in a good way, like when you ride a roller coaster.
When it stopped turning, Percy told her to try and walk in a straight line to a near by tree. Annabeth was so dizzy, it was a nearly impossible task.
“Woah.. My head is still spinning!! Your turn!” Annabeth said with a smirk.
Percy thought back to his childhood days when he rode this before. He’s always had a weak stomach, and he one got sick in front of his first real school friend ever. The kid was so grossed out never spoke to him again. Which is definitely an overreaction, but was still rough for young Percy.
“Oh I don’t know Annabeth..”
“Oh come on perce! You mean to tell me the son of Poseidon is afraid of a little kids playground?”
He wasn’t scared. He just didn’t want to be sick. But he couldn’t admit that to her. Surely his stomach has gotten stronger since that incident, right?…..right?
“Uh.. okay then, but don’t go too fast.”
“No promises.” Annabeth quipped. He loves her, but man, she can be fiesty sometimes.
He wrapped himself around the equipment, holding on as tightly as he can.”
“3…” He began counting down.
“ONE!!!!” Annabeth shouted over him, spinning him unexpectedly. She spun him so fast, he thought he would fly away. He screamed girlier than Annabeth did, who was now cackling at the sound of his screams. Once the spinning slowed, Percy evacuated the spinner.
“Okay Percy, you know the drill, walk in a straight line.”
He tried, he really tried, to get up and walk. But something pushed him into the wood chips flat on his bum. Annabeth laughed again, before realizing Percy wasn’t laughing.
She looked at his solemn face, his skin starting to show a hint of green. Before she could ask, Percy said firmly.
“I’m gonna puke.”
Before tilting his head forward and puking into his lap.
“Ohmygod Percy.”
Annabeth said. Not in a eewwww gross kind of way, more of a, omg-are-you-okay-that-surprised-me, kind of way.
His half digested subway sandwich was now all over his shirt and the wood chips beneath him. Annabeth rubbed his back, trying to offer some comfort for her boyfriend as a single tear rolled down his cheek. Her hand on his back could feel how he pitched forward with every gag and heave, becoming less powerful but still strong.
It was over as fast as it started.
“I’m sorry” Percy said quietly through shky breaths, “I ruined our perfect date.”
“It’s not your fault seaweed brain. I never should have pressured you to ride. I’m the one who should be sorry. And besides, it’s not ruined, I still had so much fun with you while it lasted.”
Percy wanted to kiss her so bad. “I want to kiss you so bad” he said “But my mouth is covered in vomit.”
“Yeah.. you can kiss me later, okay perce? Let’s go home.”
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I really like this one! I like writing for pjo because of the canon relationships making many opportunities to explore romantic fics!! requests open :)))
Visit my page for more, requests are open :))))))))))
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I want a boyfriend so bad you don’t even know 😔😊
un-draco-like
harry potter dramione fic 😈
A/N: I will never be able to ship canon dramione. I mean come on! Malfoy is incredibly anti muggle and hermione hates him. Draco is definitely a redeemable character but I don’t think how they stood in the series was any grounds for a relationship. However, I think that they had some potential for an enemies to lovers arc if that was how JK wanted to write it, but she didn’t and they definitely aren’t a ship in the book. That being said, I can write whatever tf I want 😈. I think the big thing that can make or break an enemies to lovers is the moment where that wall is broken down between them and i think a sick fic is perfect for that.
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Set during PoA
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Hermione glanced at the picture of her parents on her nightstand beside her. She was feeling a bout of homesickness, a feeling she seemed to experience a lot lately. After all, she had been visiting home less and less. With all the tensions building in the wizarding world, she felt silly wasting time with the muggles. The thing is though, she loves those muggles. She misses them a lot.
She felt like crying, but didn’t want to, especially not in her dorm. Her roommate’s wouldn’t make fun of her by any means. Quite the opposite, in fact, they would do nothing but smother her with attempts to help her feel better. Hermione appreciated their caring, but preferred to be sad alone. Instead, slipped into the corridor for a walk around Hogwarts, hoping to clear her head.
It was when she passed the slytherin dorm that she began to hear it. It was oh so quiet, the kind that someone not quite as observant as Hermione would have missed entirely. But Hermione couldn’t ignore the sound of panicked breaths coming from the corridor. Maybe someone was in danger? Maybe they needed help! She quickened her pace a bit and turned down the nearest corridor. She didn’t come down this hall much, seeing that it is not only right next to the slytherin dorms, but also the only class found down this hall is muggle studies. Safe to say, that was one of the few classes she wasn’t wasting her time on.
She reached the end of the hallway where the sound was loudest, almost missing the source. Leaning against the wall was Draco Malfoy. He looked somehow paler than usual, his skin matching his hair, which was pasted to his forehead with sweat.
“Draco?”. She said, her voice soft with concern, a tone even she was surprised to be taking with him.
He opened his mouth to speak: probably attempting to say something along the lines of “Go away Mudbload.” but the sound that came out was closer to a whimper than a snarky remark. Hermione wanted to walk away, returning to her dorm and letting Draco deal with whatever this is on his own. But he looked so helpless. So un-Draco-like. So, against herself, she stayed.
“Are you okay? I almost mistook you for a ghost, you’re so pale.”
Draco sighed. “Just a little…sick is all.” He said, drawing breaths in between each word.
“A little sick? You look like you could pass out any second. Why aren’t you in your dorm?” Hermione asked as she stepped closer to him.
“My dorm mates aren’t exactly the most compassionate individuals.”
With each word he painstakingly mumbled, his panic seemed to grow.
“Okay… so why are you freaking out?”
After a moments hesitation Draco simply replied, “Nauseous.”
That’s when it clicked in Hermione’s head. “. “You’re scared of vomiting?”. Draco had expected her to mock him. The fearless Draco Malfoy is afraid of something as harmless as getting sick, who wouldn’t poke fun at that? Hermione he supposed, because the only word he could use to describe her tone was worry.
He debated trying to hide his weakness from the girl. But he really could use someone who cared right now.
“I really don’t like it. Getting sick I mean.” Hermione noticed how hard it seemed for Draco to be speaking through his nausea, with his quiet voice and shaky breath.
“Okay. Just stop talking and breathe.” She said as she summoned a bucket, a wet rag, and a bottle of water. His fear seemed to grow when he saw the bucket, the possibility of him vomiting becoming realer by the second.
“Sit down.” Hermione said, guiding him to sit on the ground. He sat, bringing his knees up to his chest. She placed her palm against his forehead, not having to keep it there long to know he definitely had a fever. She draped the rag across his forehead.
“I really don’t like this Hermione.”
Hermione shushed him gently. “I know. But you’ll feel better once you’ve been sick.”
His body seemed to take this as permission, because he gagged harshly into his hand. Hermione quickly held the bucket under his chin. Another heave came, but Draco was still fighting against each one, not allowing anything out.
“Come on Draco, just let it out and it will be over before you know, I promise. You’re not alone.”
He shook his head, but seemed to ease up ever so slightly.
Finally, with the next heave, his dinner spilled into the bucket. Tears spilled down his cheeks with each wave.
She gently drew circles along his shaking back. Surprisingly, Draco didn’t draw back from her touch. He was uncharacteristically vulnerable.
Eventually his stomach finished revolting, and Draco leaned back against the wall behind him. Neither of them said anything. Hermione handed him the water bottle. Draco sipped timidly trying not to trigger whatever was left in him.
After a moment, he tilted his head onto Hermione’s shoulder. She was tempted to take a picture for Ron and Harry but didn’t want to make Draco feel any worse.
Eventually she remembered they were sitting in a hallway at probably around midnight, and they can’t stay out here all night.
“Alright Anti-Draco. Let’s get you back to your dorm.”
Malfoy groaned. Hermione stood first, offering Draco her hand to help him up.
The unlikely pair walked together down the hall to the slytherin dorm. When they reached the portrait, Draco mumbled the password and the door opened in front of him.
Hermione was ready to turn back to Gryffindor dorm, when she heard more mumbling beside her.
“Did you say something Malfoy?”
“Thank you, Hermione. And… and I’m sorry.”
He didn’t need to say what for. He was sorry for all of it.
Hermione smiled. She couldn’t quite forgive him for all bullying she’d endured in the past. But it was a start.
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lmk what yall think!
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i think i have one request, what about a sick jisung with the flu who has to miss the new year's eve party almost everyone is attending except for minho who chose to stay and welcome the new year with him even if it's just in his bed with tissues and maybe a bucket by his side, watching some kind of romcom until the fireworks light up the sky
(Set in the old dorms)
“You guys can go without me. Really, I’ll be okay here. It’s just a little cold anyway. I’ll probably just sleep the night away, you don’t have to waste your new year on me.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. But make sure you take you take you medicine and drink lots of water. The flu is no joke.” Chan said. “Okay?”
“Okay.” Jisung nodded.
“Promise?”
“I promise.” he said, hooking pinkies with Chan, before ducking into his elbow to let out a harsh cough.
“You guys have fun without me, alright?” Jisung said, parting ways with Chan.
Jisung flopped onto his bed. He stayed there peacefully, but that peace didn’t last long, as he felt bile rising in his throat. Since the rest of his members were distracted getting ready to go, he slipped off to the bathroom, hoping to be able to be sick alone. He fell in front of the toilet, barely having time to open the lid before letting out a wet belch, a fountain of the little he’s eaten today spewing out painfully. The acidity burned his already sore throat. Tears spilled down his face, mixing with the remnants of vomit splashed on his face.
When he finally got a break, he leaned back against the wall, hearing a knock on the door.
Shit, he’s been caught. He really didn’t want any of his members with him right now. He can handle his own.
“Hannie, can I come in?” Minho. Jisung has a soft spot for Minho. Maybe he can let him in. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have Minho take care of him.
He scooted himself to the door, quickly reaching up to unlock it. He scurried back to the toilet, feeling the second wave of vomit on its way up. Minho opened the door just as Jisung lost whatever was left in his stomach.
He cringed in sympathy, dropping to his knees and rubbing jisung’s sweaty back who instantly leaned into his touch.
It didn’t take long before he had run out of stomach contents to bring up and was left dry heaving over the tainted water, occasionally coughing.
“Hannie I think you’re empty.” Minho stood, grabbing one of the little paper cups by the sink usually used to wash their mouths with water after brushing their teeth and filling it with water. He handed it to jisung who swirled the water around in his mouth before spitting it out, hoping to get rid of the foul taste left in his mouth. Minho took the cup and refilled it, passing it back to Jisung.
“Drink it this time.”
Jisung complied of course.
“I’m going to stay back with you.”
“Nooo.” Jisung whined, laying his face on the toilet seat, almost blending in with the porcelain with how white his face was. In truth, Jisung wanted Minho to stay back. But he would never admit that.
“Okay Ji. Couch or bed?”
“Couch.”
He helped Jisung to get comfy on the couch, setting him up with a bucket and a box of tissues. Once he was all situated, Minho went to inform Chan that he was going to stay back, who was relieved that Jisung wouldn’t be alone all night while sick. He waved the rest of the group goodbye before voyaging back to the living room, the quiet hun of hans snores, who had fallen asleep sitting up. Minho sat down carefully onto the couch as to not wake the sleepy quokka. Jisung leaned into Minho’s warmth, feeling chilly from his fever. Minho cozied up under the blanket with him, placing his hand on Han’s forehead lightly, unsurprised at how warm he felt. Jisung rested his head against Minho’s shoulder.
The next time the pair woke up was just about midnight, just in time to see the fire works. The colors bursted in the sky beautifully. Luckily, they’re dorms are far away that it’s not crazy loud and the just get to enjoy the colorful show.
Although it was pretty, Han felt his stomach stirring. He urgently grabbed the bucket off the floor and put it between his legs, quickly drawing Minho’s attention from the fireworks display. He felt his hands combing through his hair, the sensation immediately relaxing him. The gagging was painful, his stomach had nothing left to give, it was turning inside out to try and find something to send up. Somehow, this was ten times worse than really throwing up. When his stomach did manage to bring something, it burned through his whole body, mostly containing bile and the little water he had drunk earlier.
When he was finished, he practically collapsed back into the couch, strings of saliva still hanging from his chin. Almost immediately breaking out in a coughing fit. Minho grabbed a tissue and started to clean him up.
“‘Went out my nose. :(“
“Here, blow.” Minho held the tissue to Han’s nose, who (all though he found it kinda awkward and gross to do so) did as commanded and blew. Minho didn’t seem to find it awkward at all.
Once they had settled back down, Minho carried Jisung (who was only about half asleep and probably could have walked himself, but wanted to be carried, like a child.) bridal style back to bed. He went to exit the room to his own bed for the night but was stopped by a shrill sickly voice.
“Can you stay?”
Minho smirked, “Oh so you’re awake now.”
“Shhh, just come cuddle with me.”
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guys i know i asked for requests and im working on it but i weote a school bus graveyard fic
do i have permission to drop it here? I might also drop it in ao3 cause i dont think this will hit target demographic on here but j don’t know!
How about a fic of Logan and Aiden hanging out, comforting each other at like 2am or at some crazy hour? (Hc that they both had horrible sleep schedules before the phantom realm and still do) I hope you have a great day/night!!!
i love this and am writing it as we speak
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