☠️ and 🧹 for dazai?
Sick or Treat!
Thank you anon!! Here's what I chose for these two and they're both below :)) I like them I might post them on ao3 too just for fun hehe
🧹 (Motionsickness) - ADA Dazai + Kunikida (Warnings: emeto)
☠️ (Spiked) - PM Dazai + Chuuya (Warnings: emeto, vomiting blood, references to Dazai's unhealthy eating habits, poisoning)
🧹 (Motionsickness) - ADA Dazai + Kunikida
“How come I didn't know about this sooner?” Kunikida says with an exasperated sigh.
“It's, uh - usually not very - hic - consistent,” Dazai half jokes, not able to keep up the charade for much longer. One hand is pressed against his tummy and the other grips the armrest, like he's somehow hoping it'll make him less nauseous, but it's a losing battle.
Kunikida is kind of a race car-style driver, and not in the fun way, the kind where Dazai can usually only handle small amounts at a time. That usually works out pretty okay, they're never in the car for long, but today is an exception.
“I'm trying to pull over, give me a second,” Kunikida murmurs nervously.
“Not sure how long I can wait, partner,” Dazai manages, mistaking the pressure in his esophagus for a burp that he tries to cover up with a fist pressed to his lips, but it's much more than that. Suddenly a mouthful of hot liquid fills up his mouth and splashes against the back of his teeth, but he's lucky that it's small enough for him to swallow back with a sickly gulp. He knows there's more coming, though, with the way his tummy is sloshing around under his hand.
“Did you just -” Kunikida stammers, wide eyed for a moment before he reaches back behind Dazai's seat and pulls out a little trash bag. Dazai's lucky he's the type of person to keep his car in order. He really doesn't feel like throwing up all over his shoes today.
Dazai takes the bag with shaky hands, and it feels as if the moment he takes his hand off his tummy is when the floodgates open. He burps as he rustles the bag to open it a little more and that bit of vomit he swallowed comes right back up, rushing over his tongue and splattering into the thin plastic bag in his hands, sagging at the bottom.
“Shit, Dazai,” Kunikida mumbles, reaching a hand over to lay on his shoulder as the car starts to slow down. Dazai would very much like for it to drop but he knows there's not much Kunikida can do where they're driving right now, but before he can reply, he groans through another nauseous burp that brings up a thick gush of vomit into the bag, nearly missing it and landing on the floorboard.
“Sorry,” he manages, leaning back for a moment to catch his breath, a belch forcing itself up and nearly threatening more of his lunch to come with it as Kunikida is finally able to stop the car.
“It's fine,” Kunikida assures him, his hand moving to Dazai's back to rub circles into it. “Thought I was an okay driver.”
“My tummy - bllrpp - disagrees,” Dazai whines as he leans forward again, spitting up the saliva that's pooled in his mouth. His tummy is still turning and twisting even now that the car has stopped, but he's hoping it'll calm down soon.
Dazai thinks he might be done, but of course the second he lets his guard down, a third, much thicker gush of hot vomit comes up from his throat, forcing a gag out from how heavy it is, and he's unlucky enough to actually have the pleasure to completely miss the bag and throw up all over his shoes, thick chunks of vomit sliding off the leather and onto the floorboard to join the rest of the pile.
Dazai's noticed that Kunikida's hand has suddenly stopped.
“Now Kunikida's really gonna kill me,” Dazai mumbles, sheepish eyes trailing up to meet Kunikida's, who looks as pale as a sheet.
“No, it's…it's fine,” he somehow manages to say, even though he's clearly seething with something. Rage, disgust, who knows. Fair reaction to someone who has just thrown up in his newly cleaned car.
...
☠️ (Spiked) - PM Dazai + Chuuya
“Chuuya,” Dazai murmurs, pulling at Chuuya's coat like a child and whining like one too, just like he always does.
Chuuya doesn't have the patience for this today. He wants to leave this snobby mafia party and go to bed, and he's sure Dazai wants to do the same. He's not sure why he needs to waste their time by going on his nerves, too.
“What, Dazai?” he grumbles, whipping around to see Dazai's half-concealed pale pace, pouting at him. Chuuya's a little too loud, evidently, a few suited men turn around at the sound.
“My tummy hurts,” Dazai mumbles quietly, keeping a loose grip on Chuuya's coat.
“It always hurts. You're shit at taking care of it,” Chuuya reminds him, not having the heart to swat his hand away, for some reason. “Maybe you should eat some of this food they have instead of starving every day for fun.”
“I did eat some,” he whines. “When they were bringing the trays around, they had crab…and they served it with liquor, too…”
“Yeah, you love your crab, don't you…” Chuuya sighs. He really shouldn't drink at something like this, but he'll do what he wants. “Let's go out to the halls. I hate being around all these people.”
Dazai doesn't agree or disagree, but he doesn't let go of Chuuya's coat, so Chuuya takes that as a sign to lead him out of the fancy ballroom and into one of the outer halls, away from the crowd. Dazai's hand loses its grip as they're walking and Chuuya just keeps weaving through the crowds and wandering forward until he makes it to the hallway, relieved to be away from all the people.
But the moment he turns around to make sure Dazai followed him, he realizes the latter is leaned against the wall, a hand pressed up to his mouth, very clearly only seconds away from vomiting, and Chuuya's eyes are there to witness it. It sprays from between his fingers with quite a bit of force and he pulls his hand away with a little whimper, only to burp up even more of the thick substance over the ornate carpet.
Okay, he was serious about his stomach hurting.
Chuuya's a little afraid of getting close to him, he doesn't necessarily want to get puked on, but Dazai loses his balance the very second his extra hand lifts off of the wall, and Chuuya runs forward to catch him.
He's careful about getting his face too close to his clothes, he doesn't want the vomit from his lips to smear, but as he takes Dazai's shoulders back to make sure he stays upright, a shiver shoots up his spine when he realizes it's blood.
It hasn't been blood this whole time. His eyes dart over to the splatters on the floor and they're the color he would expect of vomit, with that same consistency - slimy and gross, but this on his lips is blood, and he leans over Chuuya's arm to gag and spit up an entire mouthful of it.
“Dazai,” Chuuya says sternly, so nervous he feels nauseous himself. This isn't normal. He presses a hand against his cheek, expecting a fever, but he's cold. He's horrifically pale.
“They pois’n’d me,” Dazai murmurs, evidently already having realized this, hardly able to say it, “Chuuya needs to help me…”
“Who was it, Dazai?” Chuuya stammers, wracking his brain for a face, but he doesn't think he was even looking. It must have been when that tray with the crab came around. Dazai groans in pain, his body starting to go limp, but not before Chuuya hears him swallow back what he can only hope is sick.
“I don’ wanna die like this,” Dazai murmurs as his body falls forward, against Chuuya's smaller frame, “gonna hurt…it hurts real’ bad, Chuuya…”
Chuuya grits his teeth. Dazai is dramatic, ridiculously so, but he's not kidding, the symptoms Chuuya can see are proof enough.
“I'm gonna get someone to help you.”
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Seasons of Drabbles (Fall 2023) - Fic Roundup!
I wrote three drabbles for this round’s Seasons of Drabbles and had a lot of fun!
♡ Unfortunately, Yes - 300 words, triple drabble, rated G.
Fandom: MCU
Tags: Post-Avengers, Pining, Fluff, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Love Confessions, Getting Together
Summary:
Steve grins, fondness curling around his voice. “You’re ridiculous, Tony.”
Tony waves his hand in a yeah, so? kind of gesture. “You know you love it,” he answers carelessly.
Unfortunately, yes,” Steve drawls, then freezes.
♡ all the colors (outside the lines) - 600 words, drabble sequence, rated G.
Fandom: Guardian
Tags: Hurt Shen Wei, Protective Zhao Yunlan, Alternate Identity Reveal, Caretaking, Angst with a happy ending
Summary:
Shen Wei coughed, a fleck of blood beading on the side of his lips, and Zhao Yunlan’s heart thundered heavily in his chest. He was dimly aware that his hands were shaking as he held on to Shen Wei.
♡ not a shield nor a weapon - 300 words, triple drabble, rated G.
Fandom: Guardian
Tags: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Protectiveness, Found Family, Post-Canon, Da Qing & Shen Wei, Cat Da Qing
Summary:
“You got yourself hurt again!” Da Qing’s petulant tone and scolding words are softened by the way he is carefully curled on Shen Wei’s stomach, purring so loudly that the sound vibrates throughout Shen Wei’s body.
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for books:
convenience store woman, by sayaka murata
the story of the stone, by cao xueqin
war and peace, by lev tolstoy
the gray house, by maryam petrosyan
this census taker, by china mieville
iconic list as always!! here are some more (recced based on my knowledge of you ++ this list)
recs:
Chouette, Claire Oshetsky
Kinderkrankenhaus, Jesi Bender
Roadside Picnic, Arkady & Boris Strugatsky
Bonus: How Much of these Hills is Gold, C. Pam Zhang
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