#i just got hit with a wave of cramps so bad that i literally almost screamed out loud

[theygender]

Me: idk... maybe I don't want a hysterectomy. it seems like the recovery would really suck... maybe keeping my uterus... isn't as bad in comparison?

My uterus: aww, thank you 🥰🤗❤️✨

My uterus: THOUSAND LIGHTNING BOLTS BLAST

[icallhimjoey]

Can you write joseph quinn x reader where they are in relationship for over a year. Joseph is in America just for three weeks and one day y/n feels really bad but she thinks its just period cramps, but as the time goes by, she feels worse and worse. And when she finally decides to go to the doctor she finds out that was a miscarriage, and its even more shocking because she didnt know she was pregnant. After few days Joseph comes back and finds out what happened

girlie are you okay?????? i got you, though um, so, big trigger warning obviously! wordcount: 2K ----------

And he wasn't there  

At what point do you call an ambulance?

  “Hey,” Joe sounded far away through the phone.   “Hi,” you voice was strained as you held your breath.   “You alright?” Joe was immediately concerned, you knew he was only asking because of the way you sounded down the phone, so you were quick to calm him down.   “Just cramps, I’m fine,” you managed a chuckle to convince Joe you were fine. “Was your flight okay?”   “They put me in business class,” Joe said.   “Oh wow, very cool,” You were in pain though, the cramps in your stomach were quite literally overtaking you. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you were doubled over on the sofa, trying to breathe your way through it. You knew it’d pass eventually.   “Are you sure you’re okay?” Joe could hear the pain in your voice, in your breathing.

   “It’s just period cramps, I’ve taken something for it, don’t worry” you lied.   You weren’t on your period, and come to think of it, you weren’t quite sure how long ago you had your last cycle. You hardly ever got period cramps bar some pressure in your lower back, so you imagined this is what period cramps were like. But you didn’t want to worry your boyfriend if you didn’t need to. He was busy at work and should have his focus there. He would only be in LA for three weeks; enough time to get as many meetings and auditions in as possible and to also hang out and enjoy the city. You didn’t want to ruin that for him, so you decided to downplay whatever was happening to you. Honestly, you really didn’t see the point. Joe silently decided to trust you and to take your word for it. It’s not as if he knew what period pains were like anyway.

At what point do you call an ambulance?

Days passed, but the pain didn’t. Painkillers only did so much, and it had almost become routine to wake up a couple of times in the night to stock your body up on them. The only true comfort you had found was in the shower, when you crouched down on your knees and doubled over to let the hot water hit your lower back. It didn’t completely vanish the constant pain, but it would relax you in waves. The water had to be scorching hot for it to work though, and the fleeting couple of seconds in between the cramps were almost euphoric in comparison.

At what point do you call an ambulance?

It neared on two weeks. You had to call in sick from work, the nagging pain had turned into stabbing and you felt like you were immersed in concrete. It had been a while since you got an actual good night’s sleep, you were lucky if you got any after 4am. Broken nights were doing a number on you, and when you woke up for the 5th time one night, something felt different. There was a pressure in your lower stomach, a type of pain you hadn’t felt before. It felt like an add-on to whatever was already going on inside you. You seemed unable to relax your stomach at all, trying to stop flexing only worsened the pain. When you shifted, you could feel wetness between your legs, and it shocked you fully awake in a panic, tears instantly prickling in your eyes. Throwing the covers off of you body, it was too dark to see properly, but the cool air let you know that it was bad. You could feel it down past your knees, and when you flicked on the nightlight, you were met with a scene straight out of a horror film. The blood was bright, darker where it had soaked the mattress, and you winced in pain.   At what point do you call an ambulance? Was this it? Did you think you could drive still? Maybe. You really didn’t want to be a bother to anyone. You could drive still. After trying to clean yourself up as good as you were going to be able to, the largest tampon you could find inserted, and a pad in your underwear for good measure, you decide to drive over to your GP’s office. It was early, but you would probably get there just as they’d open their doors for the day.   Sweaty and shaking, you walked into the waiting room. The assistant behind the desk seemed preoccupied with her first cup of coffee of the day, and something on her computer screen. You wished Joe was there.   “Morning,” you tried to catch her attention. “I didn’t make an appointment, but I was hoping to get something looked at today?” You were too polite. “No appointment means you’ll have to wait until the doctor’s seen everyone with one,” she started, but then she looked up. “Oh,” you looked like you were about to vomit and unbeknownst to you, there was blood stuck in your hair close to your forehead. “Yea you can come on through,” she motioned to a door on the side of the waiting room and you made your way over as quickly as you could.   “How long has it been this bad?” The GP sounded stern, and you knew it was stupid, but you were afraid he was angry with you. Like a schoolteacher, or your dad would be angry with you when you’d done something stupid.   “The pain? Couple of days.” You hissed through pain as he pressed on your stomach. You could feel more blood escape you right onto the paper of the table you’d been placed on. “Define a couple.” Even sterner. You tried to find the eyes of the assistant, she seemed much nicer. “Maybe like… thirteen.” You winced at your own answer, knowing it wasn’t what they wanted to hear.   You could see your GP and the assistant make eye contact.   “Should’ve gone to A&E.” he said softly to his assistant, almost under his breath, before stepping back to a desk full of instruments. The assistant noticed the panic rise in your body and smiled warmly at you. It helped, but only a little.   “Were you trying?” she searched your face for an answer. “For a pregnancy?”   This wasn’t helping your panicked state, and you shook your head no. Her eyebrows scrunched up empathically.   “Darling, it’s looking like you’re suffering through a miscarriage currently.”   Your brain shot to an image of Joe. Shit. Instant tears. Joe wasn’t there. You wished he was with all your might, but at the same time, you were glad he wasn’t. You’d no idea how he would react to this, and having been given the space to process your thoughts in your own time felt right. Did Joe even want children? It wasn’t like you’d ever talked about it together – you’d only been going out for a year. What were you even thinking? You wouldn’t need to talk about it, you weren’t pregnant: this was a miscarriage.   You were told there was still some pregnancy tissue left in your womb. Not a lot, your body seemed to be passing it naturally. If you wanted to, you could just wait it out – expectant management. They also offered medicine that would help work the tissue out of you, or you could even go in for surgery to have it surgically removed. The risk of complications was small, for all three options, but to you, all options sounded awful and you wanted this over fast.   On doctor’s recommendation, you were sent home with tablets. And painkillers. And a pregnancy test to take in a few weeks to make sure it’d be all over. You spent the rest of the day in the shower, involuntarily watching what made it’s way out of you. The amount of literal flesh that passed was shocking, but at least the painkillers worked. What you didn’t expect was the brain-space the lack of pain gave you to think about what was actually going on. Logically you knew that this wasn’t a human life you were washing down the drain, but your body had been pregnant. Even if it had been for just a few weeks, you couldn’t get it out of the forefront of your mind.   And Joe wasn’t there.   You were exhausted and cried at the sight of your bed. When your phone rang, you didn’t answer. You knew it was most likely Joe calling, but you couldn’t muster up the courage or energy to talk about this now. And what else would you talk about? The fucking weather? Your breath would hitch in your throat every couple of seconds, there was no way you could hide this, so opting to let his call go to voicemail seemed like the sensible thing to do. For now. You would tell Joe when he’d get home in four days, and this way you wouldn’t be a bother to him. It wasn’t as if he was in any position to help you from across the Atlantic anyway.   A few days passed and the pain had mostly subsided. The bleeding you were experiencing felt like a normal period, but mentally, you were not okay. You were snappy, easily triggered and would take anger out on things and people that didn’t deserve it at all. You had taken a shot at cleaning your bed and ran a bloody laundry of sheets, towels and flannels which only made you more annoyed when you realized it wouldn’t get clean with just the one cycle. For the time being you settled on your mattress being ruined. At least your side of the bed was anyway, and you’d slept on Joe’s side for a few nights before actually mustering up the strength to attempt to clean that too.   It's late when you hear the front door open. Joe’s home. The sound of him walking in, trying to be silent in case you were already asleep is enough to hitch your emotion way up into your throat. It had been creeping up there all day, but you’d managed to calm yourself down enough, doing your very best to distract yourself from everything you didn’t want to face.   You’re sat at the dinner table, a warm mug of tea in hand, and when Joe turns the corner the sight of him makes you sob. He’s all brown eyes, soft curls, crinkled shirt and kind expression – all together too much for you to hold it in.   “Oh sweetheart,” Joe rushes to hug you. You can smell the airplane on him still. “Was it that bad? Did you miss me that much?” he’s joking. You have no idea, you think. You’re not able to answer at all, and it alarms Joe slightly. Your crying seems a bit much; you hadn’t been answering many of Joe’s calls, and messages had been short and sweet. He thought you’d just been busy, didn’t have the time to miss him while he was away, and he’d been glad for it. It meant you wouldn’t have had the time to dwell on lonely thoughts of being apart for 21 days. Joe had been on trips before, and so had you, and you always said, ‘no news is good news’. You always did just fine not seeing each other for a little bit. So why this reaction?   “It’s okay, I’m here now,” Joe soothes, but you know he doesn’t get it. When you move out of his embrace, enough to look at him, but not breaking contact, he uses his thumbs to wipe your cheeks before kissing you. And he’s smiling, and you know he’s doing it to make you feel better, but it has the opposite effect. He takes time to scan your face and notices how tired you look. Exhausted.   “Hey, what’s wrong?” Joe’s soft concern is about to break you, you can feel it in your chest. But how do you say what you can’t get out in words? You take his hand instead and lead him to your bedroom to show him. Your attempt to clean it had barely made a difference, it was very evident that you’d bled through the sheets as the mattress was still sporting a dark brown patch on your side of the bed.   “Don’t worry,” Joe chuckles, thinking that the problem was just you getting the bed dirty. He reassures you it’s fine, you can just get a new mattress, no need to worry. You don’t get it, you think. But how could he? You’d spoken on the phone about cramps, and you had said it had been your period.   “No,” you squeeze your eyes shut and attempt a big breath through a snotty nose, the action forcing hot tears down your face.   “I miscarried.” You’re unsure how your vocal chords manage to squeeze the words out of you, high pitched and shaky.   Joe just looks at you for a second, waiting to see if you’d tell him you were joking. It’s a mixture of shock, empathy and hope. “You what?” But you’re not joking.   “Baby,” Joe says on an exhale before pushing you hard into his chest, one hand tightly around your head as you sob into his shirt, the other just as tightly around your back. The feeling of protection washes over you. Too late, you think to yourself. This is what you needed days ago. Weeks ago. Joe hadn’t been there, and Joe could shoot himself in the head for it. He would’ve come home early, cut his trip short without second thought. But he knows you would’ve never allowed it.    “I’m here,” Joe shushes you when he feels the strength with which you’re holding onto him. “I’m here now.”

[farfromstrange]

Pain Relief | Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader

Summary: You're on your period and you tend to get bad periods, but today is a particularly rough day. You call in sick from work, and when Mikey comes home to find you still in bed, he gets worried. When he finds out why you're writhing in pain, he doesn't hesitate to help you out.

Warnings: Description of period symptoms, use of pain killers, mentions of menstrual blood, fluff, fluff, FLUFF.

Word Count: 2.9k

A/n: So I just got my period and I could barely move for the past three hours. I wrote this while I was literally bawling from the pain, but I thought some of you might need this as well. There is a serious lack of period comfort with Mikey.

It’s half past three in the afternoon, and the sun is up over Dublin, a welcome change in the usually so dull weather. You should be sitting in the backyard with a book and a cup of tea and enjoy the nature behind your house. Instead, you are bound to the bed. 

Every muscle in your body aches. The stabbing pain in the left side of your lower abdomen spreads into your legs, making it impossible to move without feeling like you might pass out. The pain comes and goes in heavy waves. Your muscles contract and you can only whimper as the cramps ripple through your stomach. You’ve tried all kinds of positions, but either your back starts hurting or the pressure you can feel on your lower half gets worse, so you find yourself flipping around every five minutes, and it’s starting to get exhausting. 

It’s not unusual that you wake up long after Michael has gone out, especially not when you have a late shift, though today when you woke up and the bed was empty, you found yourself crying at the loss of warmth. And when you went to the bathroom and realized just why you’ve been feeling like utter shit the past week, you knew that you had to call in sick. Working in the state you're in is not something you can do or should do.

It’s worse this time around. You’re not sure why. Maybe you have been working a little too much lately and the stress is finally getting to you, but it seems almost rude of your uterus to treat you like a criminal during your period. You’ve taken as much Ibuprofen as you could find in the medical cabinet, and it still wasn’t enough. It got to the point where you cried yourself into a restless nap. But the pain only continues to roll you over like a bulldozer.

Now you’re alone at home, the afternoon sun streaming in through the curtains, and you still feel like shit. Another sharp cramp hits you, and you roll onto your side, pulling your knees up to your chest. It elevates the pressure only for a moment before the pain returns tenfold and you try to lie on the other side, curling around your boyfriend’s pillow and hoping that maybe that will help. 

It doesn’t.

You’re not strong enough to get up and grab a hot water bottle or take a shower. You’re stuck here. For a moment, the thought of calling Michael and asking him to come home crosses your mind, but it instantly makes you feel bad. He has more important things to do than to take care of you through something that you’ve been having for years, and before him, you managed perfectly fine on your own. You’re not sure how because you are immobile at this point, but it’s not his responsibility, you think. 

After another miserable hour of agony, the key rattles in the lock. You listen to his distinctive movements as he drops the bag with his prescription on the dining table, takes off his jacket, and grabs himself a glass of water before going on a search for you. 

Michael is more than surprised to find your car in the driveway. He figures you might have come home from work earlier, and that makes him smile, but then he notices that the house is unusually quiet and he grows worried. 

He makes his way up the stairs toward your shared bedroom. He knocks. When you don’t answer, he pushes it open just enough to step inside. The curtains are still in the same position he left them, and you’re still in bed. Under any other circumstances, he would have figured you decided to take a nap after work, but you’re still wearing his shirt that you went to bed with, there is a pack of Ibuprofen on the nightstand and an empty water bottle lying next to your frame on the mattress. 

You’re not okay, and he doesn’t have to ask you to know that. 

“Love?” he says softly. You must be sensitive to light today or the curtains wouldn’t be closed. “I’m back.”

You have your back turned to him. At the sound of his voice, tears well up in your eyes. You missed him a little too much, but now that he’s back, you realize how miserable you look and how ghastly you must smell after hours spent in bed without properly moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if you bled onto the sheets.

The mattress dips as he sits down. “What’s wrong?”

You sniffle and answer, “I’m fine.”

“Yer not fine.”

With a grunt, you manage to roll over. When he sees the sunken bags under your eyes and how pale you are, his eyes soften even more. Michael reaches out to touch your face. “What happened?” he asks. “Are you hurt?”

“I called in sick,” you admit, “because I got my period this morning.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, it’s nothing serious, I promise.” As if to demonstrate, you try to sit up, but your arms lose balance and your face contorts as another cramp tears through your uterus. “Fuck me!” This time, you can’t stop the tears from falling, and you grab a pillow to bury your face in it. The sounds you let out are utterly broken, the exhaustion palpable. 

His hand moves from your face to your arm. “That doesn’t sound like nothin’, love. Ya look like yer in quite a lot of pain.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about me.”

“I do.” 

“I can handle it.”

“Ya should have called me,” he says. He inches a little closer. “I could have helped ya, maybe got ya something stronger for the pain.”

Another tear slides down your cheek and you look up at him. “I didn’t want to be a burden,” you choke out.

His heart breaks when he realizes that you didn’t tell him because you felt guilty, maybe even a little disgusted. “But yer not–”

“This is not something you should have to concern yourself with.”

“I love ya, of course, your wellbeing concerns me.”

“It’s just a period.”

Michael offers you a soft smile. “Exactly. Nothing I can’t handle.” He strokes your arm. “Is it always that bad?”

You shrug. 

He reaches out to wipe your tears. “So it is?”

“It just…” your eyes look helpless as they stare into his. “It hurts so much and nothing helps.”

He grunts in the back of his throat. That’s why the Ibuprofen is still lying next to you. Michael hates a lot of things, but seeing you cry is definitely the worst because it hurts him just the same. “Oh, my love–” he cradles your cheek, and your eyes flutter shut at the impact, fresh tears pearling off your lashes. “Ya should have called,” he says again. His voice is soft, it doesn’t hurt your head more than it already does, but the guilt has nestled its way into your brain. 

You don’t want to be weak. It’s bad enough you have to use a sick day every month around the first or second day of your period. Now that Michael is in your life, this is new territory for both of you. You’ve never had someone around on bad days, and he’s not used to seeing the effect a bad period has on you because you’ve only just moved in together and before that, you isolated yourself for a day to get better and then swallowed the rest of the pain after. This is bad though, and you hate that you still have found no way to manage it. No doctor or scientist has found a cure for the kind of pain you and many other women experience for many months, and your hormones are so all over the place that even taking the pill will only make it worse. 

You hate yourself and you hate being a woman, especially right now, maybe only right now, but the world just sucks and you want nothing more than to crawl under a rock and die. 

He leans down, his lips brushing your temple. “Shh,” he coos. “I’m here now. Let me help ya."

“How?” you ask. You don’t have the strength to argue as another cramp seemingly knocks the air out of your lungs, and you want nothing more than for it to stop or at least ease up one way or another. 

Michael offers a helping hand and you would be stupid to deny it. You can’t. Your body is too weak to withstand it on its own. You don’t want to be alone. The whirlwind of emotions inside of you feels like such a mess and it’s stupid; you feel like an idiot, but you’re also sad and angry and frustrated and in pain, and it has to stop. You need it to stop. 

He starts rubbing your arm more firmly now. “First, let’s get ya in the shower. I’ll take care of the rest,” he says. 

“I can’t stand–”

“Okay, pet, c’mere.” 

With what little strength you have left, you climb into his arms. He lifts you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist, and he carries you to the bathroom. He even holds you as he turns on the shower and makes sure the water is warm enough for you, making sure you don’t fall over. When it comes to taking your clothes off though, you blush. 

“What?” He stops at the hem of your shirt. 

You cross your arms. “I don’t want you to see, you know, the blood,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s disgusting.”

He gives you a stare of confusion before it turns blank and then the bastard even has the audacity to laugh at you. 

Your eyes widen and you stare at him. “It’s not funny!” The tears in your eyes stem from anger now. 

He catches onto them, and his laughter dies into a small chuckle, his arms wrapping around you. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry, I– I’m just– yer scared I’ll get disgusted… by the sight of blood. Me.”

“Yes, and that’s not funny!” You try not to sob, but you fail miserably. 

Michael takes you back into his arms, his broad shoulders caging you in. He has you fully engulfed now, his lips pressed to the crown of your head. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I just… I don’t mind the blood, okay? I don’t mind any blood. Ya know that.”

“I know.” You cling to him. 

Still, it feels like such a huge step in your relationship, one that isn’t fresh but it’s also not years in the making either, and you simply don’t want him to see you like that. But you also know that standing straight with the pain that is tearing your lower abdomen to shreds is a task that’s going to exert you to the point you might as well fall unconscious. 

“I’ll turn around if that’s what you want, I just want to help,” he says. His puppy-dog eyes meet yours. “Will ya let me do that?”

You take a deep breath. “It’s gonna be a crime scene.”

“Lucky me that I didn’t cause that one, eh?”

Your brain takes a moment to process the words, and they sound so nonchalant coming out of his mouth. His smile is bright and a little mischievous and you can’t help but laugh a little. He can be such a dork if he wants to be. 

“Shut up,” you mutter as you begin taking your shirt off. 

Michael rushes to your rescue. “Made you laugh,” he says. 

“Astute observation, Mister Kinsella.”

“Shut up,” he mimics you, and you can’t help but chuckle again. 

“I’m in pain, I get to say what I want.”

“Fair point.”

He helps you out of the rest of your clothing before turning around as he promised. You step under the warm water, holding onto the wall for leverage. You feel dizzy. All the lying around and the lack of sustenance have caused your blood sugar to plummet, and it’s gradually going down. 

He is by your side in seconds, his promise to stay behind long forgotten. He holds you up, washes your hair, and the sweat off your skin. You protest at first, but he shoots it down with a gentle kiss to your lips, and then you’re on fire again and you can’t deny it feels good to be taken care of. It’s relaxing, almost.

The pain continues to wash over you, but at least you have someone to hold onto now. If you had been fully lucid, you would have cursed him and thrown him out, but you have to admit that you need help. You need his help. He understands you in ways no one else can, and he is the first man to prioritize your well-being when it comes to your period. He’s not disgusted, he’s merely worried and he loves you. That’s something you have to get used to; it might take some time, but Michael does it in a way that makes you feel safe. He has never made you feel anything short of safe. He’s your home. You need him, that’s no longer a secret, and you allow yourself to let loose a little. 

It’s easier to breathe now. He washes you carefully, gets you one of his oversized shirts (his sweaters are too warm, you tell him), and even helps you brush your teeth for the first time today. 

Soon enough, you’re tucked back into bed, once again put on bed rest, while he rummages around downstairs in the kitchen. There is a knock on the front door. You can hear Michael’s voice and is that… Jimmy? It doesn’t last long though, and you hear the stairs creak as he makes his way back to you. 

You’re curled into a ball on your side. Michael smiles when he sees you, obviously a lot more relaxed than before, and closes the door behind him again. He’s carrying a tray with a plate of different variations of fruits, a cup of tea, water, a Coke, and two different kinds of pills. The latter makes you frown. 

“Made you some food before ya pass out,” he says. 

You make some space for him to sit next to you. “Thanks,” you say, then point to the pills. “What’s that?”

“I asked Jimmy if they had something against nausea and maybe some painkillers that might be stronger than the ones ya have here. He just brought them over.”

“Mikey…” You tear up again, but this time not because of the pain. He is so considerate, it makes your heart swell. And maybe it’s a little because of the pain. 

He hands you the water bottle. “Here, take ‘em.”

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Nonsense, I– well, I guess I just want to be a good man for ya, and if that means taking care of you while yer on your period, I take my job very seriously.”

“It’s not your responsibility.”

He shakes his head. “You are, my love. I love ya, which means I’m here, always, and I want ya to tell me when yer not feeling well.” Guiding the bottle and the pills to your lips, he smiles. “Now take your pills. Don’t want ta have to tell ya twice.”

You swallow them without hesitation. At some point during your relationship, you gave up on asking what kind of medication his brother and his wife keep around and just hope they haven’t given you any hard drugs. But Michael wouldn’t let that happen, anyway. 

He senses your struggle for a comfortable position and moves the tray aside so you can sit between his thighs. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Your legs pull up instantly, wanting to get rid of the annoying pain in your front, but his next action confuses you. He forces them back down and on either side of his thighs before he slips his large hand under your shirt and places it over your stomach. 

You gasp, feeling a little exposed, but then his fingers start kneading your skin and you crumble completely. Your head drops back against his shoulder. It feels like magic. He’s massaging the sore muscles of your lower stomach while at the same time numbing all other oncoming cramps. He pushes a button inside of you that instantly makes you slack in his arms, and he holds you tighter around your shoulders with the free one.

“How’s that?” he asks. 

“Don’t stop,” is all you know how to answer. 

“So… what?”

“It’s good.”

“Okay, grand.”

“Yeah. Now shut up.”

He chuckles, burying his nose in your hair that now smells like his shampoo, and he continues digging his fingers right where you need them.

Your body grows limp after a while, and when he looks down to check on you, your eyes are closed. You’ve fallen asleep in his arms, and there are no more creases of worry on your face.

Michael presses another kiss to your temple. “Good girl,” he says.

Then, he retreats his hand and gently lays you next to him. He tucks you in the same way he did before. You’re quick to move around in your sleep until you’ve found him again, and your head subconsciously moves to his chest. 

He doesn’t waste time wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, just like every night. And you know that when you wake up, he will be right by your side, not leaving until he’s certain that you’re feeling better. 

Mikey Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked (if any more of you want to be added, let me know)

But also tagging @bellaxgiornata bc I know you're on a Mikey trip and I think you might want to read this, darling <3

[multiplefandomsblog]

[Identity V] Domestic!VAL x Gn!Reader (HCs)

request; I’ve been having a rough day, so may I request a poly VAL (Victor, Andrew, and Luca) x Reader? Maybe some domestic headcanons?

warnings!: sfw, very fluff, reader uses gender neutral pronouns, polyamorous relationship, domestic, mentions of burning down a kitchen, robots gone rogue, nearly getting hit by a bus, comedic violence, cuddling, mentions of DILFs, irresponsability, slight neglecting, you all suck at cooking except for [redacted]- no spoilers!!

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

⭒ You would all live in a little apartment because Victor thought it was cute( and you all have no right to deny his adorable little butt )— despite it being way too cramped and messy for 4 people to live in, you all somehow made it work.

⭒ Victor would force everyone to have movie night. EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT.

⭒ Everyone has to take turns walking Wick by Victor’s orders, but Andrew gets the occasional free pass because he gets real bad anxiety every time he passes by one of your neighbours as he walks Wick.

⭒ “Oh god, do i look at them in the eye? Do I even look at them? What if I look at the wrong spot? If I look at them, will they think it’s creepy? But what if they try to wave at me? What if-!?”

⭒ You get it.

⭒ Luca often spoils Wick, and/or overfeeds him when Victor isn’t around to scold him for it. For that, Wick has literally no shame when he pesters Luca for what he wants, because he knows he’ll get it.

⭒ Everyone would rush to you when you say you’re going out for a walk, longing for alone time with you. They’d all play a game/fight to see who gets to walk with you, but they all end up losing because you’re already out the door.

⭒ Out of the three, Luca would be the most jealous/protective one out of the relationship. He’s just a teensy bit insecure, mixed with the fear of you all hating him because he can’t remember anything, and he’s no good for you, and-

⭒ That being said, Luca doesn’t get jealous when you three spend time together without him; he’s usually pretty busy, so he doesn’t get much time with you all in the first place. It reassures him and makes him feel less guilty for diving into his work and neglecting you all sometimes.

⭒ Honestly, it makes him really happy to see you all together. But if you take a group photo without him; silent treatment for 1 month. 

⭒ Victor or Andrew are always the ones to end fights/debates, Luca being the one that starts them.

☆ “... What do batteries run on?” “Probably you.”

☆ “Do one legged ducks swim in circles?” “...” “Hold on-” *metallic rummaging in the bg* 

☆ “If I eat myself, will I get twice as big, or disappear completely?-” Fed up with his bullshit, Victor would all of a sudden start signing aggressively, “NOW LISTEN HERE YOU PIECE OF SH-” It almost looked as if Victor was using his hands to ready up a running punch.

... Wait-

“ViCtOr PLEASE!” 

⭒ Victor would steal everyone’s hoodies, and obviously, it’s always adorably oversized on him, ugh- ❤️

⭒ You guys tend to share all your clothes. None of you have your own clothes, if it fits anyone else, they’re wearing it too. 

⭒ The laundry would get mixed up anyway.

⭒ Andrew always picks up everyone else’s leftover trash or laundry, taking on the role of the responsible mom in the relationship. He’s actually pretty bad at taking care of himself, but that eventually gets easier when he has you three to take care of too. 

⭒ Everyone collectively knows sign language to understand Victor because he’s mute.

⭒ Your house would have 2 queen-sized beds because of how small your house is. Two people would share a bed each; you often rotate with who sleeps with whom. Luca stays in his room though, he won’t rotate so you three are going to have to take turns with who sleeps with him. 

⭒ Honestly, no one will admit this, but Luca is probably the warmest and most pleasant one to sleep with. He’s like a walking space heater; his hands are always so warm, and he always cuddles with them roaming everywhere. That being said, he does twitch and tic when he’s still awake in bed; so you’re going to have to wait for him to sleep first if you don’t want to accidentally get hit.

⭒ Andrew is the coldest to sleep with, and insists on being little spoon. Not verbally; but if you ask him to be big spoon, he’ll stop and stare at you, as if communicating, “You think I can big spoon? Who do you think I am?” He’ll try at first, because he loves all of you— but you’re going to wake up with him as little spoon.

⭒ Victor doesn’t really cuddle when he sleeps. I think he’ll probably just have one of his hands touching his partner, or just clutching at the material of their clothing— but other than that, he just sleeps normally. 

⭒ Andrew and Victor are usually the ones to go shopping for groceries, Luca can’t be trusted with buying things and needs supervision if left at home. 

⭒ There had been too many times when he used the trolley(full of groceries, mind you) as a vehicle, and almost got himself, as well as many others hurt. He claims he, “Didn’t see the huge bus coming at him,” and, “Didn’t hear the loud shrieking for him to stop, as well as the honking and beaming.”

⭒ When cuddling all together, Andrew would actually be the big spoon, Victor would be the spoon in the very middle (Wick would be the littlest spoon if he decides to join in) and you and Luca would be hold him like that. 

⭒ Andrew is mainly the head of the apartment, Victor is second and command; and together, they’re unstoppable.

⭒ Different parts of the house is separated for different stuff.

⭒ Luca would reserve a small working corner for him to focus on his inventions and machines.

⭒ Another corner for Victor to write letters and Wick’s stuff, a corner for your hobbies and a corner for Andrew’s shovels and dead bodies.

⭒ Everybody takes turns to prepare dinner.

⭒ Luca usually just gets take-out if he’s in charge of food; he doesn’t know how to cook, and that’s probably for the better.

⭒ However, there had been a time when he tried to construct a machine that could cook by itself.

☆ It worked at first; everything was fine and dandy, you were all proud of him.

... Until it went rogue.

Let’s just say you all had to move the next day.

⭒ Victor would probably be decent at cooking, though there tended to be a few things are burnt or undercooked, otherwise not too shabby.

⭒ Victor would also make sure to include a dessert. It’s usually store bought but he does try baking if he has the time.

⭒ If you guys were good buddies with your neighbours, Victor would mail little box cakes to them with a small letter.

⭒ Believe it or not, Andrew would be the best cook out of everyone. 

⭒ He started out rusty, but it soon became a hobby after watching countless chef videos. Team Jamie Oliver, screw Gordon Ramsay. I mean, working as a grave-keeper, there has to be something else you do to keep your humanity. 

⭒ Andrew has a fly swatter specifically bought and used for swatting Luca when he tries to steal some food while Andrew is still cooking.

⭒ Everyone’s mouth waters when he starts to bring the food to the dinner table.

⭒ Andrew gets praised every time he makes dinner, and he nearly passes out on the spot. 

⭒ Everybody clap for DILF Andrew—

[beomglocks]

three’s a crowd ; h.k & k.th

summary : just you and your two boyfriends

pairing : bf!taehyun x bf!hyuka x reader

warnings & other : requested, fluff, idk much abt poly relationships other than there’s more than two people, sorry if this is bad LMAO, tyunning best boyfies, sleepy kai

you groan, rolling over only to find that you couldn't actually do that. had it always been like this? maybe not, you think to yourself. you groan once again and try to force your body to roll onto the right side of your bed but a firm hand kept you in place. already this early in the morning you couldn't have what you want.

"you're gonna wake him up," someone whispers softly. you peel open your eyes which are heavy with sleep and are lowkey protesting for you not to do that. you wonder for a moment if rolling over was worth slightly waking up for, however whoever was awake knew you were awake too now. maybe next time, you suppose. it would've been nice to sleep comfortably last night but it felt like you hadn't slept in ages and you can only guess why that is. the bed was cramped, and hot, and goddamn, someone had turned off the aircon in the middle of the night!

when you look up, one out of two of your boyfriends, taehyun, is already sitting up against the headboard, completely awake. his head is perched up against the headboard and in his hands is his phone. "were you awake this whole time?" you ask him. your voice is raspy and sounds gross as you prefer to not speak as soon as you wake up but you're curious. though it's true that he was the early bird among you three it was still fairly early for him to be awake.

"i woke up an hour ago plus the bed is too stuffy," he says looking down at you staring up at him. so he had felt it as well, nice to know you weren't the only one who slept uncomfortably. "well.." you let your words drift off into the air as you turn to the other boy who is completely unconscious on the bed. his mouth is slightly open and you swear you can see drool threatening to slip out of his mouth. his curly hair is messily strewn all over the place and in his clutches is a plushie you or taehyun had once gifted him for a birthday, you don't remember.

what a sight, you think to yourself. huening kai, ever the dreamy sleeper. he looks peaceful despite the contrast of how absolutely petrified he was at the sight of the haunted doll, annabelle, in the movie you all watched last night.

taehyun shakes his head with a smile on his face, "it's not like i suggested watching literally anything else." you make a movement that you think could pass off as a shrug but you don't think taehyun can tell. "he said he could handle it and you know i can't say no to our baby."

you move around on the bed for a moment to find a comfortable position to speak to him in without disturbing kai. "plus we all got to cuddle for once, even though it was hot as hell last night," you mumble.

"sacrifices were made," taehyun mumbles. he sets his phone down on the bed beside you and rubs your head in what you think is an affectionate way but he's been working out and it hurts. "ouch," you grumble, deciding to stick by hueningkais still asleep frame.

the moment you cuddle up to kai who is facing away from you, he turns over so that you're both face to face. you don't think he realizes so you just kiss the tip of his nose lightly. "breakfast?" taehyun suddenly asks. you think to yourself for a moment. it sounds tempting to go help taehyun with whatever he plans on making for the three of you to consume however, the bed is just too comfortable. despite it being hot, kai's body heat is a type of hot that doesn't make you uncomfortable.

"can you go make it? i wanna be here when he wakes up so he doesn't think we abandoned him after the movie." kai can be a bit tender after scary movies. the whole reason why you and taehyun hadn't slept well was that, for no other underlying reason at all, kai suddenly wanted all three of you to cuddle on the bed.

it was a cute idea that you agreed to and although taehyun was reluctant, he too agreed to the proposal.

you move your boyfriends hair away from his peaceful looking face and you watch as his nose scrunches up but soon goes back to normal after a couple of seconds.

"we also need a bigger bed," you mumble randomly. you hear taehyun snort a laugh behind you, "when we first moved in, the first thing i pointed out was how tiny the bed was." he crosses his arms over his chest and decides to watch you play with kai's hair.

you turn over with a playful frown on your face, "im not the one who had a growth spurt! the bed was fine back then." you feel hueningkai stir beside you and suddenly his gravelly morning voice is rumbling through your ear.

"bunk beds?" he mumbles with his eyes still closed and a lopsided smile on his face. you tug on a piece on his hair when he situates his body to lounge over both yours and taehyun's like free real estate. "hell no," you both say in unison, protesting the idea.

"im going back to sleep," kai grumbles with a slight roll of his eyes. taehyun pats the other boys hair, soothing out the stray bed hairs that are sticking out. "what do you want to eat?" taehyun asks, getting up from the bed and stretching out his limbs. "make pancakes," you suggest. thankfully, hueningkai is fast asleep once again so he can't protest to the food choice.

taehyun nods, walking away to the kitchen. you decide to stay and run your hands lightly up and down your boyfriend's back. his slow breaths are lulling you back to sleep too but you fight to stay awake. if you fall back asleep you know you both won't wake up until late in the afternoon and that just won't do because kai has to finish the errands he didn't finish yesterday.

you get up from the bed, making sure not to wake kai up, which somehow you manage to do successfully. you make a mental note that he sleeps like a baby after scary movies.

you walk into the kitchen and see taehyun preparing the ingredients for pancakes. he lets you watch him for a while until you go up to him and insist on clinging to him, something he can't and won't protest against.

about 15 minutes into making pancakes, hueningkai straggles into the kitchen. you snort out a laugh at his appearance. his tall frame is leaning forward, the first indication that he's still half asleep. the second is his pouty lips and closed eyes. his hair is sticking up in all different directions as he messes with it because he sees you staring at it.

"you left me," he scolds. "you were sleeping," you defend quickly. "i got hungry," you smile.

"whatever, they smell good," he yawns. "wanna taste?" taehyun asks, holding up a piece of a previously cooked pancake. "yes, me first!" you detach yourself from his back and stand in front of him so he can feed you. hueningkai sleepily walks over for his bite of food to taste after you.

"they're good," you both say. "of course they are, i made them," taehyun says proudly. you fight the urge to flick his head, "i helped." you mumble. "i don't doubt it at all," hueningkai pipes up. "they have a bit of your flavor."

"what the hell does that even mean?" you give him a weird look, waiting for him to elaborate. out of the corner of hit eye you see taehyun smile lazily at overhearing the early morning conversation. "god wait, i didn't mean it like that! im still half asleep for fucks sake," he raised his hands up and waves them.  "im going back to sleep," he announces.

as he starts sauntering off back to the room you detach from taehyun who seems to be almost done. "im still kind of tired too... come join when you're done," you give him a chaste kiss as you walk away from him.

taehyun sighs to himself as he finishes up the rest of the food.

just another day.

[etherealeeknow]

we have each other

• rated m for mature (along with a pinch of angst? and fluff)

• pairing: soft dom!minho x fem!reader

• wc: 1.420

• tw: arguing with minho, dirty talk, grinding, slight nipple play, explicit language, unprotected vaginal sex (remember to always stay safe!), bathtub sex, soft sex, creampie,- i think that’s all, please do tell me if you find more c:

• note: lmao i was aiming for a drabble but def got carried away while writing this- plus, this is my first smut after a decade 😂 so fingers crossed you’ll enjoy it! feedbacks are much appreciated <3 also, please kindly note that english isn’t my first language. therefore, i apologize for any mistakes.

—

“holysh- this better not be- fuck!” you grunt on the unpleasant sight and smell coming from your favorite sneaker as you mentally do a karate chop to whoever let their dog poo in the middle of the crosswalk. jumping on one leg, you almost make it to the sidewalk when all of a sudden, it starts raining cats and dogs. gripping onto your handbag as tightly as you can, you run with all your might while spitting out endless curses, the situation on your left shoes long forgotten as the only thing you want right now is to get under your roof.

yet, the cycle of your bad luck doesn’t stop when you get to your destination as the one and only functioning elevator in the old apartment building is out of service. “it was totally fine this morning!” you say out loud, earning nothing in return from the ignorant security who’s half asleep by his desk. sighing, you stomp your way to the stairs. the day’s gonna be longer.

once you reach the seventh floor and spot your apartment door, you feel like crying out of happiness, but it doesn’t last long as the realization hits you that you lost your key last week and haven’t gotten the chance to get a copy. “dear heavens, why are you doing this-” your sentence is cut off when the door clicks open right when you get in front of it, barely having the chance to knock; revealing the sight of minho with his poker face, shooting you a look. “don’t,” you warn without sparing a glance as you make your way inside to hurriedly grab your needs so not much damage will be done from your drenching self.

“why didn’t you pick up my calls?” silence. “i asked you a question, y/n,” you can hear the sound of his gritting teeth even when you’re back facing him. turning around, you only glare at him before heading to the bathroom, only to spin around when he calls your name again. “really, minho? you honestly expect me to return your calls after last night? did you hit your head and forget that you literally told me to fuck off?” silence. “exactly. now please, go mind your own business and let me mind my own.” swinging the bathroom door open, you’re welcomed with the view of your cramped bathroom, now all squeaky clean and filled with tealight candles- even your bathtub has been filled with bubbles. 

“min-” a tiny gasp escapes your lips when minho wraps his hands around your shoulder and his lips come in contact with your neck, kissing it softly. “h- hey, i’m all wet and sweaty,” you say, yet having no intention to stop him. “mmm, don’t care. all i want is to make you even wetter.” one by one, he unbuttons your shirt and lets it hit the floor. he draws circles around your tummy before sliding a finger in your bra, playing with your hardened nipple and making you shiver under him. “i see you’re finally cold now, huh, my hot headed baby? you want me to warm you up?” you instantly nod, sparing no time, and minho does the same—unclasping your bra while you shimmy out of your culottes and undies.

patience has always been in your virtue, but today is an exception. you miss minho so badly, his touch, his kiss, him. you want him. sure, the episode last night between the two of you leaves a certain scar somewhere on your heart, but it can’t compete with the love you have for him. you hurriedly help him undress and he chuckles, making you reddened along the process. once you look up to him, though, he’s already looking at you ever so fondly, the light in his eyes shines so bright and you just can’t take it anymore. you pull him into a kiss and feel his hand on your neck, his thumb stroking the lobule of your ear for quite some time before he bites your lower lip and you let him in to take control.

“up,” he mutters in between the kiss, tapping your foot as a signal, and you oblige; jumping slightly to wrap your legs around his waist, and you can feel the tip of his cock lightly hitting your bum. your kiss comes to a halt for quite some time when minho goes into the tub and slowly sinks down. both of you groans in satisfaction upon feeling the warm water. “i’m sorry,” minho says as his hand reaches out to caress your cheek while the other remains around your waist, pulling you even closer till there’s no more room separating you. “i didn’t mean anything i said to you last night, but that doesn’t mean i’m not at fault. i’ll fix myself for you, y/n. i know you want it as much as i do, but you’re right, things aren’t going as planned so we should take it slow for it to work out. please let me work on it with you?”

his last words come out almost in a whisper and it brings you to tears as you struggle to tell him that he doesn’t need to ask for your permission. minho has been your number one support for half of the decade. through the seemingly never ending hardships, he’s always there, so if arguing over big and small matters is what it’s gonna take for you to marry him, then so be it—because you know that at the end of the day, it’ll only strengthen your feelings for each other. feeling his eyes getting teary, minho nuzzles against your neck, out of words to say, and it softens you even more.

you take the chance to start grinding on his dick and whimper shyly, “please make love to me, minho. i need you.” that definitely brings his attention back to you and all the emotional thoughts vanish to the back of his head. unlike the usual minho who lives to tease you and could go on for hours with only sliding his cock up and down on your slit, the minho he is today only wants to give you everything you want. your moans mixing with one another when he lifts you up and guides you down by your hips, piercing through you—your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel him stretching you while he’s in the same state, already feeling on cloud nine when he feels you clenching around him. right when you’re about to ask him to move, minho pulls out of you slams back in, making you cry in pure pleasure as you begin to buck your hips against his, craving for more.

though short of breath, minho manages to chuckle at your eagerness. “baby, let me take care of you,” he says, cheeks all flushed from the heat. he proceeds to take care of the situation, going in and out of you steadily before fastening his pace. “oh my god, min- minho, ah!” you moan, partly for the ecstasy of feeling so full, but mostly because he has hit your sweet spot and the familiar knot’s finally starting to build up on your stomach. “f- faster, please, please, please-” you beg, voice now a pitch higher, yet unbothered by the possibility that the neighbors might be able to hear how minho is making you cry over his cock. 

“cum with me- ah, fuck! cum around my dick, baby-” with his desperate plea and the way he twitches in you, it only takes a few more thrusts before a wave of pleasure washes over you and you cum around him while letting out a choked moan—minho follows only a second after, both his body and voice shaking over his own climax. the room’s now only filled with your heavy breathings, but they, especially minho’s, sound like music to your ears. right when your head leaves his shoulder and you lock eyes with him, everything turns black.

“you have got to be kidding me-” you groan, this time in disbelief and annoyance, but it quickly changes into a chortle when you lay your eyes on the tealight candles surrounding you. “good thing my boyfriend has set these romantic candles for me,” you joke, making minho laugh along as he, again, pulls you towards him, wanting to be as close as possible with you. “i know, right? and at least we have each other.”

“at least we have each other.”

[trashytummiez]

Leon + Bad Curry = Bad Times

I made this fic based off of this emeto pic of Leon that an amazing artist @squidbiscuit made.

https://squidbiscuit.tumblr.com/post/638970356221247488/more-pukey-leonjust-because-it-looks-good-on-him

Pukey content is not really my thing, but I love nausea, burps and comfort and I got the idea based off that picture of Raihan who I ship hard with Leon, having to comfort his nauseous boyfriend.

It was hard to tell if Leon was groaning or if that was his stomach, but either way, to Raihan, it sounded sour and unpleasant.  The two of them were in bed together, they’d long since eaten their dinner but something clearly wasn’t sitting right for Leon.  His stomach was especially noisy all night, but Leon kept trying to insist to his boyfriend that the curry was just hotter than usual, but Raihan knew that wasn’t true.  He ate the same curry and his own stomach wasn’t bothering him.

Leon’s bare back was turned to Raihan, maybe so he could try and stifle the worst of his gurgling stomach.  But for as intense as their rivalry was when they were trainers, as lovers, Raihan was a very tender and loving boyfriend.  He wrapped his arms around Leon’s hips and gently tugged him close.  His hands rested against Leon’s stomach, which did feel a little bit puffier than Leon’s normal, firmer six-pack felt.  And with his hands wrapped around Leon’s belly, Raihan could feel it churn intensely under his fingertips.

“That sounds awful,” Raihan frowned.

“Hulp, feels awful,” Leon mumbled which was completely out of character from his normally charismatic and confident way of talking.  He groaned some more when his gut gurgled so hard that it made him actually recoil in bed with a groan of pain.  

“Hope you don’t have a bug,” Raihan said with concern.  He tenderly rubbed Leon’s belly to try and calm it down.  He was careful as possible, rubbing slowly and gently, as if barely drifting his fingers across Leon’s oddly warm middle. 

Leon shivered, both from pleasure but also from a wave of nausea hitting him.  He swallowed hard but tried to relax.  It was not an easy thing to do.  In fact, his belly was giving him such grief that tears were starting to form from the corners of his eyes.  

Raihan grimaced when he heard and felt that stomach gurgle such a painfully acidic-sounding bubbling.  Leon’s gut was churning a storm and it wasn’t doing him any favors.  But he needed to be there for his boyfriend, so he kept trying to calm Leon’s belly down, rubbing it with more focus.  His palm ran side to side, swaying Leon’s stomach slowly in a hope of dispelling the cramps.

Leon’s cheeks puffed for a moment and he blew to the side.  He did it again and groaned.  It was like a cross between burping and exhaling, but his stomach was just too hitched and tightened for anything to come up the right way.  Leon gently rubbed his aching belly alongside Raihan and groaned to himself.  His stomach felt unpleasantly heavy, even though he usually ate way more than he did that night and tended to feel just fine.  The sickness was literally weighing his gut down, making it feel like it was heavier than it actually was.  

He wanted to burp so badly and try and get some of the pressure out of his stomach, but it was such a mess in there that every attempt made his gullet lurch, like something else was going to come up with the residual gas.  

“Oolph, mrph, feels awful...”

“Shhhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Raihan insisted gently.  While one hand continued to gently caress Leon’s belly, the other drifted higher and started rubbing Leon’s broad, athletes chest.  He exhaled shakily, like the rubbing against his bare chest was helping to ease his throat a little.  

They laid in bed together with Raihan wrapped around Leon’s backside.  He rested his chin against Leon’s shoulder and hissed his neck affectionately.  Raihan was trying to comfort Leon as best as he could, rubbing that grumbling stomach up and down to his underbelly, just before his boxers waistband.  

Leon hiccuped deeply while his stomach bubbled even more aggressively.  He covered his mouth and hiccuped again.  This time, his belly hitched, like it was tied into a knot.  

“...O-Oh crap...f-feels like...”

He hiccuped sharply again.  Suddenly, Leon sat up from the bed, holding his mouth with one hand and grabbing his aching belly with the other.  Getting up so fast was a mistake, because it caused what felt like a wave in his stomach splashing against the front of his belly.  And that kind of nausea was just too much to stomach a second longer.  

With a look of panic in his eyes, Leon rushed out from the bedroom in only his boxers and rushed to the bathroom.  He hugged the toilet and spat into it, whining some more.  Raihan frowned anxiously and got up from the bed, shirtless but wearing sweatpants.  He headed over to the bathroom and found a whimpering Leon hugging the toilet bowl and hiccuping repeatedly  They were these wet, lurching hiccups.

“Hic!  Hic!  Ooooh God...hic!  Hic!”  Leon whined, hiccuping again and again.  Until a sharp hiccup turned into a rolling belch.  “HiccuuuuUUURRRP!!!”

And with that wet, rumbling burp, Leon spewed the contents of his stomach into the toilet.  Raihan recoiled with disgust, hearing Leon vomit intensely into the toilet.  In truth, Raihan was really sensitive to that sort of thing, always getting sick himself at the mere thought of someone throwing up.  

But seeing Leon so vulnerable, he instead held his long purple hair up, keeping it from sinking into the toilet and rubbed his back gently.  “...Th-That’s it, l-let it out,” Raihan tried to assure Leon without sounding too grossed out.  He wasn’t doing a good job.

When the contents of his stomach stopped spewing out of him, Leon huffed in a breathless fashion.  Since he’d already thrown up, he didn’t bother being delicate.  Instead, Leon grabbed his belly and pressed into it firmly, then let out a really deep, rumbling burp.  Leon huffed, then gulped down some air, so he could force it back up in the form of an even larger and louder belch, which he let out right into the toilet, making it reverberate forcefully.  

As soon as that gross but impressive burp ended, Leon lurched and let out a third burp, this one a really wet, disgusting-sounding belch.  And with it, a stream of vomit spewed out of his mouth as he lurched his head into the toilet and puked profusely.  Raihan clenched his eyes shut, trying hard not to think about it while he kept rubbing Leon’s back.  He was doing his best not to breathe right now, but thought it might be a tad insensitive to start spraying the place.

By the time the bile stopped expelling from Leon’s mouth, he felt utterly dazed.  He almost slumped against the toilet itself, spitting into it a few more times before moaning with exhaustion.  

“...OoooOOoooh man, that was awful,” Leon mumbled, flushing the toilet and spitting into it again with a pained whine.  “...I’m s-sorry...”

But Raihan just rubbed his back some more and gave it a few gentle packs.  “Don’t be sorry.  I hate seeing you so miserable,” Raihan said gently, while still keeping his hair up.  “Do you at least feel better?”

Leon nodded weakly.

“...Did you get it all out?”

With a weak huff, Leon massaged his churning stomach firmly.  “...Don’t know...stomach feels less-hurp-gurgly, but...Huuuuurrrp!!”  Leon burped into the toilet and thankfully, this time, just air came up, but it was the kind of burp that sounded like more than air was coming, especially when Leon started whining even more, almost sounding like he wanted to cry.

Raihan sighed but despite that, rested his hand on Leon’s shoulder.  “Well, until you get it all out and feel better, I’m right here.  And I’m not going anywhere.”

Leon weakly blinked a few tears away and finally said, “...L-Love you...”

In spite of the unpleasantness, Raihan smiled softly and brushed Leon’s long purple hair away from his face and caressed his cheek.  “Love you too...”  His face soured a little though.  “...In health and, ugh, and in sickness...”

[ateezinmymind]

I see you're open to request. Can I have an ateez reaction to their s/o using the safe word??? 🤧🤧

a/n: sorry it took so long😔💔here you are!! Oh yeah and I just put ‘red’ as the safe word :x &im sorry if this isn’t what you wanted🥺

~SMUT~ angst, light fluff

please, please, dont take my writing as anything else but pure fiction!! I do not condone the actions written in this

warning: slight s/o non-con,foul language,, please don’t read if uncomfortable <3

Hongjoong:

when he came home- immediately bringing you to the bedroom,,and shoving you on the bed

frantically removing the both of your clothes, you were a bit worried..usually he went slowly into it with you. “Ahhh shit y/n I need you bad,,could you lay down for me?”

complying with him, not even spending the time to prep you-he thrusts himself in. Letting out a deep sigh, hongjoong then nips at your neck. Being all rushed and not ready for him, you didn’t feel pleasure in it. “Joong..” -biting then sucking harshly on your skin he shakily breathes out a moan

not getting him to listen to you,,trying to speak again you tap his shoulder-“Joong...ah..r-red..red”

He literally jumps off of you and holds his face, “Oh my god..y/n..” scared of himself-he didn’t know what took over him, “oh-my-god-oh-my-“

Interrupting him with a hug, you try to comfort the man losing his mind. “Hey..hey, it’s okay! Don’t worry too much about babe..it just didn’t feel right”

From there on hongjoong wouldn’t stop thinking about what he did,, and he’d always make sure you were okay and comfortable with everything

Seonghwa:

when he got carried away, endlessly pounding into you-something with him was off

from the harsh words spilling out of his mouth, and the painful thrusts you let out a whimper

“A-ah..ahh” the far too fast pace making you bring tears to your eyes-Seonghwa was too distracted in the pleasure to see you in discomfort—instead he starting praising you

“You..feel so good..ah..you’re taking me so well“-but really you weren’t taking him well at all. it was hurting-the force of him sheathing himself inside was everything but pleasurable..

He started off very gentle, but then he got this urge for aggressive thrusts-feeling you couldn’t take it anymore, eyes squeezed shut,tear glazed cheeks you sob out, “s-Seonghwa..RED, please it hurts”

Stilling himself he looked down at your painful expressions and uneasiness. “Y/n? Babygirl,oh no, love..are you okay!”-“Tell me where it hurts!”-“please stay here”

He’d make you a warm bath and ease the two of you in, finally relaxing-Seonghwa would whisper non stop, apologies and regrets

Yunho:

when he came to you laying on the couch, and started feeling you up-you knew the boy was NEEDY

But when he started taking off your clothes, you were wondering where his mind went. You now only in undergarments, he unzips his pants and pushes you over the armrest

Harshly squeezing your ass pressing you further on the couch, it began to be painful..then he slipped himself in. Immediately making deep and harsh thrusts, causing your body to continuously pound on the hard armrest

Gasping for air, the piercing pain in your chest made you let out a choked cry-“uh..hmff..yu-nho” but hearing your cry he was trying to chase his release faster..which meant continuous agony

When he placed his hands on the small of your back, you shrieked in pain-“Ou-owww st..stopp,, red, red!” Finally breathing in the first full gasp of air you let it back out in exhaustion. “Oh shit,,oh my god-“

Your limp body resting on the couch, he literally thought he broke you-“y/n,,baby-oh my god” he’d be the fastest to flip you back on the cushions and examine your body.. “please, please forgive me..I..I didn’t mean to get out of control I-“

“Yunho,”-deep breath-“it’s fine, just give me a sec” his heart literally BROKE, tears would pool in his eyes,, he’d never forgive himself for hurting you.

Yeosang:

when he started squeezing you a little too tight, you thought he’d realize sooner..but his frantic pace was almost animalistic

his arms wrapped around your waist as he entered you. Folding over your body-moaning he got lost in pleasure..the hold on your torso tightening as his thrusts became sporadic

Your insides feeling compressed to the point where you were worried of potential damage, you grunt in pain

Then when he shifted to digging his fingers into to hips, you could stand it anymore-“Red..” he’d immediately let go of you and shift back-scared of himself-

He’d stare at his hands, then look up at your body sprawled on the bed..red hand marks visible on your torso he yelps..”what the fuck is wrong with me?! Y/n I..I.. I’m so sorry, I-“

Hands immediately going to soothe your aches you feel wet drops land on your skin,,opening your eyes to a worried, crying boy mumbling out his frustration towards himself

“Yeo, please stop beating yourself up..I know you didn’t mean to-you’re okay” staring into your orbs he’d lurch into your neck..quietly sobbing-“I just don’t know what came over me, i..I am so so sorry”

San:

when you were pulled harshly by your hair and fiercely grasped from your hip—you let out a whimper

There’s times where you two do go pretty rough, but today things weren’t sitting right, it just felt off—the slaps to your ass, the sharp pain in your scalp, your lower back aching-just all felt wrong

Because these actions were frequently done in the bedroom, when San heard you say a painful ‘ow’ he turned it down a bit. But then when he heard pleasurable noises coming out of you again, he went back to his rough mindset

Giving a hard spank to your ass you jolt forward and give out a cry, “you take me so well baby~” obviously enjoying himself, hearing low grunts and pants leaving his mouth

Wrapping his hand around your hair and pulling you back, your neck uncomfortable your scalp becoming sore you give a cry and whimper- “sannie red..”

In a matter of seconds you’re backed up against pillows and examined~”babygirl,, oh my-I went to rough again..didn’t I” weakly nodding your head he curses under his breath

Taking you into his arms-he’s not letting you go-“y/n I really hope you’ll be able to forgive my mistake,,I really messed up” pouty San won’t stop hugging and kissing you

Mingi:

when he repeatedly slammed you down onto him, the position on his lap wasn’t the least bit comfortable

“Yeah..yes..” Mingi spreading your legs father-the stretch starting to sting...bringing you down his length harshly, the motion cause your hips to tense up

You grab onto his shoulder and squeeze trying to ease your pain,,but it only leads to him being egged on. Moaning, his hips start thrusting up and meeting yours in strong force—causing pain to course through you in a big wave

Digging your nails into his chest you pat him as a warning,,but when he didn’t stop-your legs cramping from the position you wince out-“ow..r..red”

Quickly placing you on your back he can’t help but panic a bit-“oh..ah..y..y/n, what can I do,, oh no“-seeing you try and stretch your legs out, he immediately takes action.

Rubbing your hips, inner thighs~all the way down your leg. He can’t help but have soft eyes and pout. “I’m sorry babe, I was foolish, I’m so stupid-I hurt you” then holding your hands to apologize softly

“Mingi-you’re not stupid,,baby it was just the position~it’s okay..” cue snuggles and him trying to make you laugh

Wooyoung:

when you were forced down, choking on him-you tried to relax

But the strong grasp on your head, the repeated actions, the gagging, you needed to breathe... you’ve sucked woo off plenty of times before, but this is the first time he’s fucked your face full on.

Your vision blurry from the lack of air, drooling out of your slack jaw, you try to breathe out of your nose.

But the jerking of your head to his pelvis you’re not able too..sucking in air and hissing from pleasure-wooyoung chases his high

when you tap him on the thigh and he doesn’t pull off, now frantic for oxygen you jerk yourself out of his grip—saliva connected to your lips—you choke and croak out “fucking RED” gasping for air your mind clears up

“Oh shit—y/n..are you okay?!” leaning down to your kneeled state he grabs your face in his hands~”oh my god,,I can’t believe I did that..damn it”

Wooyoung placing your hair behind your ears he kisses your forehead. “Baby-please forgive me,,I never wanted to hurt you-“ pleading for an apology, you swallow and cough from your scratchy throat-“it’s fine Woo, but shit—I couldn’t breathe”

He’d pick you up and place you on the bed, then bring you water and snacks. “Please let me make it up to you-“

Jongho:

when your legs got pressed to your shoulders, the position making you light headed-you tiredly tried saying his name

but the new angle-perfectly-making your breathing thin out..it didn’t help that he increased his pace, and hit deeper in you.

letting a choked cry out—he slammed harder—finding you so desirable he doesn’t notice your furrowed face. Bouncing uncontrollably from his movements, your breathing so irregular-from constantly being knocked out of you

Trying to give out the strength to make him stop you go limp and cry out..hearing your plea he freezes

Grabbing onto your hands for dear life he spits out apology’s. “Y/n, love? Oh my-breathe-please” calming your breathing back to normal you weakly sigh

“I’m sorry Jongho, i just couldnt,,”

Lifting you up for a hug, he kisses your neck and wipes away your stray tears~”please..don’t apologize for what I did..y/n,,I am forever sorry for conflicting pain upon you—“

His touches from there on would be as light as a feather, so soft—he’s afraid of breaking you, a delicacy..you’re his heart. And his heart broke when he hurt you

[agentminnesota187]

Triple Frontier Oneshot - An Introduction to Dove

I literally, physically squeezed this out of my brain. I wrote this like 6 months ago and added, like, a sentence. Enjoy!

Trigger warnings: 16+, harsh language, violence, small amount of blood, gun mention, explosion mention, insignificant injury.

Not good, not good, not good, not good! Dove thinks as she’s sprinting through the gunfire and explosions. 

She’s panicked like she’s never been before. One second, Benny was beside her, the next he’s somewhere else that she can’t see and it scares the hell out of her. 

No time to focus on it though, she’s gotta get to Fish. He needs help, Benny can handle himself, he’s fine, he’s fine, he’s just ahead of you, hell he’s probably already at Fish. She tells herself. 

“I’m out!” She hears yelled in front of her, Pope. “Where the hell is Dove?” He yells. She can hear him clearer. 

“Pope!” She yells at the top of her lungs. “I’m here!” She sees him through the smoke, just a glimpse, but she sees him nonetheless. Him, Fish, Ironhead and Benny all standing together like how they always did. Each of them watching each other's backs. She almost smiles. 

She would’ve if she hadn’t felt the unmistakable burn of a bullet grazing her neck. She knows it's not life threatening, it didn’t hit an artery, it just grazed her. She’d already be down if it did, but she can’t help but panic at their faces. It looks like they just witnessed a baby being killed in front of them when they see the wound.

It’s small, but it’s bleeding and it’s on her neck. That’s enough to render their faces white as a ghost and for their fingers to start trembling on their guns. The unmistakable sound of Pope’s gun shooting the person who shot her. 

She runs to them, immediately throws herself into a crouch to the left of Will behind their cover. She can hear them yelling at her, scolding her and telling her she got herself fucking shot and is just standing there like nothing happened. She can feel Will’s iron gaze on her, waiting for her to collapse, to bleed out, but she waves him off with an arm. “I’m alright, Jesus Christ it’s just a graze. Didn’t hit anything major, you can unclench.” 

They visibly relax a slight amount. Their shoulders force themselves down, the grip on their rifles loosens enough that their weapons are no longer trembling. “What the fuck was that, Dove?” Will yells. 

“What was what?” she asks. She only followed the plan.

“That!” he exclaims. 

“I literally followed the fucking plan, dumbass!” She yells back. “Was that wrong?” 

“You got shot!”

“How many fucking times have you gotten shot? Whatever, because you were supposed to be watching my back, dumbass!” she yells at Benny, pointing an angry finger at him. “Let’s just finish the fucking mission, and then we can yell at each other!” 

They all grunt in passive-aggressive agreement. She catches Benny’s guilty expression. He feels bad, shit. She thinks. I fucked up. She apologizes to him quietly, if he hears her, he doesn’t show it. They’re thrown back into practiced silence. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they return, the boys are all over Dove, trying to soothe the angry wound on her neck and the small cut on her right shoulder. 

“Dios mio, you pendejos are going to drive me fucking crazy.” She complains. Her head is tilted to the left, so far it starts to hurt. She’s got Pope swabbing her neck with a paper drenched in alcohol and Will at her shoulder doing the same. “This is gonna cramp up my fucking neck.” 

Frankie sighs to her left. “You got shot, Dove. We take care of our own.” 

“I told you, it’s a graze.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.” 

“A graze that could get infected so relax for a few more minutes, Princesa.” Santiago stated. 

“If you call me princess one more time, I’m going to kill you.” she muttered in Spanish. 

“That’d be a lot more intimidating if you didn’t just get shot.”

“Yeah, because Ironhead wasn’t watching my fucking back like he was supposed to.” She grunts in pain as Will harshly dabs at the wound on her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, Dove. I got distracted.” he muttered. Though it sounded sarcastic, she could hear the subtle guiltiness in his statement.

“It’s fine, Miller. Just don’t do it again, por favor.” 

He nodded outside of her view. “You’re all done, sweetheart.” 

“Perfecto,” she stood up quickly, slightly disorienting herself before hugging the younger Miller brother. “Sorry for blowing up on you, babe.” she pecked his neck. 

“Sorry for not watching your back,” he kissed her head in return. They both leaned back to give each other a peck. “Love you.” he muttered between kisses.

“Love you too.” 

“Break it up lovebirds, we’ve got work to do.” Santi hollered. 

“There goes that.” Benny muttered, before kissing her one more time.

[mywritingonlyfans]

*coughs*

okay. thomas angst.

was hit with the idea of thomas having mild ptsd from a previous friendship he had which was really toxic. so, thomas, 19 years old, fresh out of the toxic friendship, stuck at home because of quarantine. thats the topic

so first things first. italy in 2020. wasnt the brightest year, with the country shutting down barely surviving the first wave of the pandemic. its overwhelming, and the inability to go anywhere gets to thomas' head. he cant see his friends, he cant go out for a walk to calm down, hell, he cant even go outside to smoke without someone yelling at him for it.

few weeks before the lockdown, thomas with the help of the band finally managed to escape a toxic friendship. it had been hard, and the realization had barely settled in thomas' head before things got scary. the person had outgrew the initial and seemingly inherent kindess and twisted it into a maladaptive and manipulative behaviour which brought thomas a lot of problems. from an outsiders view, someone easily saw the miriad of back and forth thomas had to do to account for them.

i hc thomas as a person with a lot of empathy. hes empathetic towarss others, and people feel empathy towards him. so, it was no surprise that the friend he had been super close during the time he had left in school, had picked up on those behaviours. the subtlest "im kinda out of it today" had thomas demanding they take some time to hang with him, or to have to themselves to relax, to de stress. it also seemed, no matter the time of day, thomas was available for it. as a person who has grown in a circle of friends that shared every thought, and made sure to validate and comfort the bad ones, he had quickly learnt to prioritize the wellbeing of a friend over his.

not everyone is like this, but they were. and they saw fragile, empathetic and confident thomas, a rising star in the music industry undoubtly, and they wanted to take advantage of his kind nature. The times they went out with thomas on the exuse of uneasyness, the times thomas went over to their house to give them all kinds of objects, from food to literal money thomas had been saving up for one reason or another. every time he went to complain, the answer was "but you prioritise me over it, right? im your friend after all,,". long gone were the dreams of him getting this new guitar he saw with the money he made for himself out of il ballo della vita, or the nights he would have rather spent with the rest of the band at damianos place than going out to a ridiculously small and cramped club because they wanted to go with him

thomas never saw through the harm they caused. he devoted countless of hours, money and love into them. being seriously worried when they text him "im having a bad day" or being super fast to shower them with compliments on their life and achievements, when all he ever got was a dry "thats cool". and it was, for a while, just that.

until somepoint during the summer before covid. somehow, thomas had been finding himself being with them at all times. no breaks at all almost, and when he did have to do other things, the threats dropped faster than a stream of water. thomas picked up their worsening mental state and didnt ever say anything back. all the threats of them being harmful to themselves, to others, to thomas himself. all the insults that flew his way, names that got engraved into his mind and he assumed they were just facts. all those flew over his head. he felt the need to take care of them. they made him feel responsible for their wellbeing, and thomas was slowly neglecting his own. he wasnt sleeping at all, he never got to hang out with the band, or even his own family. his self confidence was dropping, the prideful young rockstar suddenly reduced to few insulting words and barely enough time to even shower.

he felt more demotivated than ever. the burden of carrying someone elses troubles, the consequences of their actions, and assuring them they werent actually a burden and thomas still liked their company- cause otherwise he got sent some very unfortunate pictures that made him sick after some point, captioned "this is your fault. you werent here to stop me. god im so pathetic, you should leave me to die. i must be so annoying, you should leave like everyone else has" all were things thomas had to put up with daily, having to be there in person and make them believe they werent pathetic or stupid, and that thomas saw the good in them and that its a matter of time, youll get better, blah blah blah.

waking up, showering, eating, playing the guitar, meeting friends all the things he did normally, some that he loved were such a chore. always a nagging fear that his friend will do something, and thomas wont be there to stop it. he dreaded every meetup, but hated the consequences of not meeting at all. the insults that would be hurled at him, the pictures, the threats. all things that drove thomas insane.

vic noticed before the others. thomas hasnt had a good riff idea in weeks. he seems to get tired almost instantly. the whole time he is on his phone, or checking it. he seemed so miserable and she knew something was up. he tried to confront thomas. tell him, show him that he hasnt been himself. he keeps hiding behind exuses.

she told ethan. now thomas was intimidated by ethan. not to a worrying degree, but if anyone was to put thomas in his place, it was ethan. she tells him, and he seems just as if not more worried. they try again. and thomas hides again. avoids their gaze, their questions. he tears up all too quickly and ethan doesnt want to pressure him. theres something that didnt work when two subtle forces met an infurianigly stubborn, equally subtle and quiet one. thomas listens, vic knows he listens to ethan, she can see him nod and reply. and the way he seems to leave his phone more often makes relief flutter in her chest.

until, thomas is back from outside, with a friend, close to collapsing from exhaustion. damiano isnt home, and vic thanks whatever god is out there for that. ethan helps thomas shower, and vic makes him food. the younger cant hold himself behind the exuses anymore, it hurt to at this rate. he tells them about the friend. how they acted, how they have been acting. how thomas felt responsible for them, when they started being low. how he was tired, he was scared. he looked like a kicked puppy when vic brought him the food and ethan murmured to her all thomas had managed to say. the bruises around thomas' wrist made more sense when he tells them the friend would almost dislocate his arm at the force with which they kept him there. he talks about the threats, the ones they made on their life, the ones they made on thomas' one. the insults, the constant harrassment. the amounts of money hes spent, the amounts of text he got, each message more unsettling than the ither

vic and ethan are shocked, and even more so when they hear damiano cracking a wooden spoon while he stood at the doorway. he was mad, undoubtly so, but he didnt say anything. he didnt cuss as victoria expected him to. he didnt yell, he didnt react. only silent anger simmering behind his eyes as he helped thomas up, into an engulfing hug that had the youngest crying and heaving into damianos shirt.

they help thomas establish boundaries. he seemed to hold the friend to a high standard, and the band didnt want ti ruin it. maybe it was just the worsening mental state that made the friend into such an ass. thomas sets down firm walls, and vic dami and ethan are right behind him, building it higher. he demands less messages, more free time. he demands they see a professional for help, he promises to leave if they do something else. and as hard as it was, for thomas to abandon the friendship, when the panic attacks late at night started again after a while, when damiano caught him in one, and vic threatened to call the police while ethan stroked up and down his bad for comfort, he had to make it out. and the band helped him, and they were able to go back to their lives. they had a whole album to work on, release and promote.

quarantine hit thomas like a truck. nothing to do, at all ever. he wasnt able to go anywhere. the first week, it was tiring. exhausting. he had done everything to distract himself. the tv was constantly on, even if news played every 10 minutes. he had managed to break, replace, and break the strings on his guitar 2 times already, and he felt odd. this whole thing, this distraction. it reminded him too much of the friend. the constant surrounding of familiar walls and everything in there was something that the friend had used. the way he acted seemed familiar. it awoke painful memories, and he didnt know what to do. his hands itched to unblock their number, text them, apologise. god he had been stupid, and he let them slip out of his life over minor inconveniences.

then his hands stopped shaking. because vic was calling. she talked thomas out of it, told him to work on something not on his phone. to cook, to read, to play. thomas might have taken it too literally. he did just that. all the time. sure, he learnt to make amazing bread, but his hands were spent. sure, he came up with three riffs and was able to help with the album in a week, but his fingers were bleeding all throughout. sure, he had read almost half the bookes in his apartment, but he was tired. he didnt take breaks. the mindset was simple.

wake up. do stuff. eat. sleep.

repeat.

and yet, it took a tired damiano and a fully concerned giorgia to understand why thomas wasnt replying to texts, or ever talk. or why his selfies were shakier than usual, why his fingers had bandaids on them.

and they realise, thomas doesnt know better. he never had the time to grieve his frienship, to recover, to understand why the friendship was hurting him. he was 19, fresh out of a toxic relationship, stuck at home alone, nit knowing what to do to satiate the ever growing itch in his head, the one that checked the blocked messages to make sure nothing new was there. he needed assurance, guidance, giorgia had yelled, and they assured, they guided. they found an escape.route from these unhealthy, around past six months of his life

and there were weird nights, fun mornings. the album was making slow progress and italys cases dropped. the sky seemed to clear for thomas, almost after a year of no sunlight

noooo, i'm picturing him being quiet in the middle of the band, picking at his fingers and shacking legs without talking because he's not feeling good and i wanna cry, he's a 19 yo in pain, why i love it??? i wanna huge him, pat his hair, kiss the tip of his nose and close him forever inside a box ♥️ and i love how we all think ethan is sir dad material!! that's good prompt 🥺 and i wanna kill who's making him feel like that with my 1,59 cm

[sodone-withlife]

i know who i am

summary: really, he never saw himself ever willingly letting anyone in on his broken past, but here he was, sitting in across from Waipo in the tiny cramped office at the back of the shop and nervously sweating about what he was about to tell her

read it on ao3: chapter 1 is the original version with Mandarin, chapter 2 has everything translated into English

the movie really hit me hard as an ABC, and I really wanted to write something for it. even though she barely had any screentime, I loved Waipo—she reminds me of so many of my relatives—so I decided to make her be one of the most important people in Shangqi’s life, and it turned into this wonderful mess (i had to stop writing this for a bit because I literally made myself cry). there is mandarin in this, it's kind of intended to be a physical manifestation of how my bilingual brain works (i did put the English-only version first, the original version with Mandarin is under that one but the formatting for it one is better on ao3, so i suggest reading it from there). apologies for my shitty mandarin; I have mediocre language skills, but I'm still so excited to be able to incorporate it in my writing. in regards to the character's names: I only know for certain the Chinese characters used for Shangqi and Wenwu, but for Xialing, I'm going to go with what it apparently was in the hong kong release (夏灵, with 灵灵 as the nickname)

English Translation:

“Waipo, do you have a bit of time?” Shangqi stood in front of Katy’s grandma, fidgeting nervously as fluent Mandarin rolled off of his tongue with an ease he's never felt in any other part of his life. “I want to talk to you about something."

She pinned him with a knowing stare. “Does it have anything to do with the trip you and Katy went on this past week?" she asked, Not waiting for his answer, she got up from the shop register and beckoned him into the back office. Feeling oddly like the first time he came into the store years ago as a teen—when he first met Katy’s family who had since taken him under their wing—he followed her into the familiar, cramped space.

He wasn’t exactly sure what within him prompted this interaction. He had come to San Francisco for a normal life, to get as far away from his father’s reaches as he could and to outrun the blood that stained his footsteps.

Never did Shangqi imagine that he would end up claiming the ancient rings that now sat in a heavy-duty (thanks to Xialing, with whom he now keeps in regular contact because of the promise they made to each other before he left the compound because he already left her behind once, and he’s never doing it again damn, my baby sister is running the Ten Rings now, and she’s trying to turn it into something better) and a very well-disguised (thanks to the sorcerers in the New York Sanctum and holy shit he’s in contact with famous superheroes now) back in his mess of a studio apartment.

Never did he imagine letting anyone in on his broken past, and even though his hand had been forced when it came to telling Katy, here he was going to the second person who truly saw something in him when he first started his new life and planning to tell them everything.

(Okay, fine, Shangqi wasn’t actually planning on letting anyone else in on it after telling Waipo, not even the rest of Katy’s family, but he really didn’t want them to be so involved yet—he still had no idea what he himself was doing and he wants to preserve what normalcy he can.)

(Also, he’s been reliably informed that anyone close to a public figure is bound to be targeted for attacks—which he figured out when the mercenaries attacked on the bus because yes, Lingling, he does have brain cells thank you very much.)

“Little Dragon, what’s on your mind?”

Little Dragon.

He started at the nickname, the one originally given to him by his mother. Somehow, it had completely slipped his mind that Waipo also called him that, starting a few weeks after he first met the Chen family. He barely kept it together, the long-unused nickname dredging up memories he had thought left him forever.

You have the heart of a dragon, she had declared firmly when he asked her why she decided on that particular nickname.

(That was exactly what his mother had told him right before she died, and yet he stood by, hidden behind a door, and did nothing while the men beat and killed her, the heart of the family.)

(He would carry the guilt with him for a lifetime.)

It was a while before he could bring himself to visit the family again—there were a lot of awkward excuses before Katy reluctantly backed off—and it took even longer for him to get somewhat used to the name again, but he eventually started seeing it as a gift with each faint impression of happier days that he got every time Waipo called him that.

Old, weathered hands gently covered his own, which were shaking and clammy with nervousness. Shangqi wondered how Waipo would react to the darker side of the lost boy she had basically adopted all those years ago, wondered if the legends of Ta-Lo and the Great Protector were known outside of the rather insular communities that continued to tell the stories, wondered if she had heard about his father through the stories that were passed down for thousands of years, from generation to generation…

(It can’t be wrong to miss him, can it? Even with the years of hell Wenwu had put him through, he was still his father. Shangqi still faintly remembered the man his father had been when his mother was still alive, the happy times they shared as a normal family…)

(But those times were long gone, ripped from their grasp by the past Wenwu wanted so badly to leave behind. Grief had shattered the whole family, and it ultimately led to the children fighting the father who had been driven to near madness in his denial, in his quest to put his broken family back together again.)

Mom, I miss you so much.

(And now Wenwu is dead, just like his beloved wife.)

(But just as she died to protect her children, he did the same. Now, his children are reunited and in contact again, getting ever closer despite living as far apart as they did, and he was reunited with his love in the afterlife.)

Finally, he straightened his posture and took a deep breath, looking directly at Waipo, who he’d come to view as the grandmother he never had.

“Waipo, have you heard of the legend of the Ten Rings?”

And Shangqi told her everything.

He told her everything and more,

She listened.

She listened as he described the legends behind the Ten Rings, Ta-Lo, and the Great Protector; his father’s history; his own history, from witnessing his mother’s death to ripping open the throat of the man who killed her when he was barely a teen, from leaving Lingling behind to seeing her again in the fight club she built from the ground up, from returning to the compound after a decade away in San Francisco to the battle in Ta-Lo…

Finally, he fell silent and stared at his hands but it wasn’t long before Waipo moved, slowly standing up with one hand on her cane. He made to help stabilize her but was quickly waved off with a stern look. He sank back into the chair and felt her move behind him. The shaky weight of her hands on his shoulders as she gently pressed down and straightened his posture was familiar, even after years of not having his posture deliberately—so gently—fixed like that every time he saw Waipo.

“You are the legacy of all who came before you, but you are your own person.” she finally said gently, and the tension in his shoulders slowly loosened under her familiar touch. “You decide your own fate.”

~~~

That night, Shangqi knelt before the altar he had in his apartment, the only part that was carefully maintained in all the years he had lived there. But now, two smiling faces stared back at him, a joy reflected in their eyes that he knew would disappear in less than ten years after the photo was taken.

Am I still your pride and joy? Lingling grew up, but I didn’t even take care of her like I should have.

I swear to you, I will never abandon her again

Even as his life got even more unbelievable as the years went by, the altar and his copy of his parent’s wedding photo would remain a constant. He and Lingling dove deeper into their family history—of the Ten Rings, of Ta-Lo, of both the good and bad—and both worked to carry on their parents’ legacy.

(With all of the proper discretion agreements and threats when needed, of course.)

Lingling is dating my best friend now, and they’re so happy together. Mom, I know you would have loved Katy. Dad, I know you didn’t like her much, but she really is a wonderful person.

Life went on.

There were the good days, when he went out with others and could almost feel normal, and there were the bad days, when phantoms pains plagued him and he woke up from a restless sleep expecting to see bruises mottling his body like they did so often when he was younger.

(Also, he was considered a superhero now and holy shit that’s still insane, even years after he first got in contact with the Avengers and the sorcerers in New York. Now he was going all over the West Coast, to help the locals take care of whichever crazy supervillain decided to wreak havoc that day.)

Dad, I hope you find this story as funny as I did: I helped a group of American superheroes yesterday. They’ve never been to San Francisco before and were extremely unfamiliar with the roads, especially Lombard Street. They spent half an hour trying to drive down the street, but I ended up driving them down myself.

(San Francisco was still home, and he had found a life there with all his friends and Xialing whenever she visited. He had a job now, too, at the local youth center teaching martial arts and self-defense, teaching and guiding the youth in a way he wishes his father had with him.)

People came into his life; some stayed, some left, and some even got together.

Mom, Dad, Lingling and Katy are getting married today and everyone is so excited for them. I’m taking over the Ten Ring within a month so Lingling can take a break. She’s led the organization for so long, it’s my responsibility now. I hope I can live up to her standards, she’s done really well. She’ll be back in a few years, but even after, I’m going to be much more involved to lessen Lingling’s workload.

Shangqi walked the path knowing who came before him and who was still with him.

Most importantly, he walked the path knowing who he was—demons, flaws, strengths, and all.

Mom, Dad, don’t worry. I’ll take care of them.

I hope you’re happy together in the afterlife.

~~~

Don’t be afraid, Shang-Chi, for you have heart of a dragon and the power of the Ten Rings.

We will always be with you and Xialing.

Original Version w/Mandarin

“外婆，您有没有一点儿时间？” 尚气 stood in front of Katy’s grandma, fidgeting nervously. “我想告诉您一些事情。”

She pinned him with a knowing stare. “是不是跟你和瑞雯这前个星期去的旅行有关？” Not waiting for his answer, she got up from the shop register and beckoned him into the back office. Feeling oddly like the first time he came into the store years ago as a teen—when he first met Katy’s family who had since taken him under their wing—he followed her into the familiar, cramped space.

He wasn’t exactly sure what within him prompted this interaction. He had come to San Francisco for a normal life, to get as far away from his father’s reaches as he could and to outrun the blood that stained his footsteps.

Never did 尚气 imagine that he would end up claiming the ancient rings that now sat in a heavy-duty (thanks to 夏灵, with whom he now keeps in regular contact because of the promise they made to each other before he left the compound because he already left her behind once, and he’s never doing it again and damn, my baby sister is running the Ten Rings now, and she’s trying to turn it into something better) and a very well-disguised (thanks to the sorcerers in the New York Sanctum and holy shit he’s in contact with famous superheroes now) back in his mess of a studio apartment.

Never did he imagine letting anyone in on his broken past, and even though his hand had been forced when it came to telling Katy, here he was going to the second person who truly saw something in him when he first started his new life and planning to tell them everything.

(Okay, fine, 尚气 wasn’t actually planning on letting anyone else in on it after telling 外婆, not even the rest of Katy’s family, but he really didn’t want them to be so involved yet—he still had no idea what he himself was doing and he wants to preserve what normalcy he can.)

(Also, he’s been reliably informed that anyone close to a public figure is bound to be targeted for attacks—which he figured out when the mercenaries attacked on the bus because yes, 灵灵, he does have brain cells thank you very much.)

“小龙，你有什么心事儿？”

Little Dragon.

He started at the nickname, the one originally given to him by his mother. Somehow, it had completely slipped his mind that 外婆 also called him that, starting a few weeks after he first met the Chen family. He barely kept it together, the long-unused nickname dredging up memories he had thought left him forever.

你有神龙之心 ，she had declared firmly when he asked her why she decided on that particular nickname. You have the heart of a dragon.

(That was exactly what his mother had told him right before she died, and yet he stood by, hidden behind a door, and did nothing while the men beat and killed her, the heart of the family.)

(He would carry the guilt with him for a lifetime.)

It was a while before he could bring himself to visit the family again—there were a lot of awkward excuses before Katy reluctantly backed off—and it took even longer for him to get somewhat used to the name again, but he eventually started seeing it as a gift with each faint impression of happier days that he got every time 外婆 called him that.

Old, weathered hands gently covered his own, which were shaking and clammy with nervousness. 尚气 wondered how 外婆 would react to the darker side of the lost boy she had basically adopted all those years ago, wondered if the legends of Ta-Lo and the Great Protector were known outside of the rather insular communities that continued to tell the stories, wondered if she had heard about his father through the stories that were passed down for thousands of years, from generation to generation…

(It can’t be wrong to miss him, can it? Even with the years of hell 文武 had put him through, he was still his father. 尚气 still faintly remembered the man his father had been when his mother was still alive, the happy times they shared as a normal family…)

(But those times were long gone, ripped from their grasp by the past 文武 wanted so badly to leave behind. Grief had shattered whole family, and it ultimately led to the children fighting the father who had been driven to near madness in his denial, in his quest to put his broken family back together again.)

妈妈，我太想你了。

(And now 文武 is dead, just like his beloved wife.)

(But just as she died to protect her children, he did the same. Now, his children are reunited and in contact again, getting ever closer despite living as far apart as they did, and he was reunited with his love in the afterlife.)

Finally, he straightened his posture and took a deep breath, looking directly at 外婆, who he’d come to view as the grandmother he never had.

“外婆，您听说过 ‘十环’ 的传说吗？”

And 尚气 told her everything.

He told her everything and more,

She listened.

She listened as he described the legends behind the Ten Rings, Ta-Lo, and the Great Protector; his father’s history; his own history, from witnessing his mother’s death to ripping open the throat of the man who killed her when he was barely a teen, from leaving 灵灵 behind to seeing her again in the fight club she built from the ground up, from returning to the compound after a decade away in San Francisco to the battle in Ta-Lo…

Finally, he fell silent and stared at his hands but it wasn’t long before 外婆 moved, slowly standing up with one hand on her cane. He made to help stabilize her but was quickly waved off with a stern look. He sank back into the chair and felt her move behind him. The shaky weight of her hands on his shoulders as she gently pressed down and straightened his posture was familiar, even after years of not having his posture deliberately—so gently—fixed like that every time he saw 外婆.

“你是所有在你之前的人的遗产，但你是你自己的人，” she finally said，“你决定你自己的命运。”

You are the legacy of all who came before you, but you are your own person. You decide your own fate.

~~~

That night, 尚气 knelt before the altar he had in his apartment, the only part that was carefully maintained in all the years he had lived there. But now, two smiling faces stared back at him, a joy reflected in their eyes that he knew would disappear in less than ten years after the photo was taken.

我还是你的骄傲吗？灵灵长大了，但我也没好好照顾她。

我向你发誓，我再也不会抛弃她。

Even as his life got even more unbelievable as the years went by, the altar and his copy of his parent’s wedding photo would remain a constant. He and 灵灵 dove deeper into their family history—of the Ten Rings, of Ta-Lo, of both the good and bad—and both worked to carry on their family’s legacy.

(With all of the proper discretion agreements and threats when needed, of course.)

灵灵跟我朋友最近开始谈恋爱，他们俩可开心了。妈，如果你还在我们身边，我保证你会喜欢她。爸，我知道你一开始不太喜欢她，但她确实是一位精彩的人。

Life went on.

There were the good days, when he went out with others and could almost feel normal, and there were the bad days, when phantoms pains plagued him and he woke up from a restless sleep expecting to see bruises mottling his body like they did so often when he was younger.

(Also, he was considered a superhero now and holy shit that’s still insane, even years after he first got in contact with the Avengers and the sorcerers in New York. Now he was going all over the West Coast, to help the locals take care of whichever crazy supervillain decided to wreak havoc that day.)

爸爸，我希望你跟我一样觉得这个故事很好笑：我昨天帮了一组美国超级英雄开车。那是他们第一次来旧京山，对道路非常陌生—尤其是 Lombard Street。他们开也开不好，花了半个小时慢慢的开下去。最终，我把他们的车开下去的。

(San Francisco was still home, and he had found a life there with all his friends and 夏灵 whenever she visited. He had a job now, too, at the local youth center teaching martial arts and self-defense, teaching and guiding the youth in a way he wishes his father had with him.)

People came into his life; some stayed, some left, and some even got together.

妈，爸，灵灵她今天会跟我最好的朋友结婚，我们都很兴奋。我一个月之内开始接管十环的业务，让灵灵休息休息。她干了多少年了，现在是我的责任。我希望我能辜负她，她管的非常棒，帮了许多人。她几年后会回来继续当领导，但我好像在领导方面发挥更大的作用。

He walked the path knowing who came before him and who was still with him.

Most importantly, he walked the path knowing who he was—demons, flaws, strengths, and all.

妈，爸，你们放心吧，我会照顾他们。

我希望你们俩来世都幸福。

~~~

尚气，你别怕，你有神龙之心，十环的力量。

我们永远会在你和灵灵的身边。

[all-hail-the-witcher]

undying love

because @officerjennie called the vet yesterday

__

ship: geralt/jaskier/eskel, modern

warnings: not sexy nakedness, not sexual belly rubs, baths, vomit/vomiting (not incredibly descriptive), brief negative self talk, brief negative body image, soft/fat eskel, trans eskel, nb geralt

words: 3.1k

editing: yes

genre: somft comfort

__

Eskel tumbled through the door of the apartment, a hand pressed to his large stomach and his eyes squeezed shut. It was plain dumb luck that he didn't trip over Geralt’s shoes. For such an organized person, Eskel could never understand why they couldn't put them away.

Eskel always put his shoes away, in their appropriate bin, but today the thought of bending over made him sway on his feet and he leaned heavily against the door frame for support, gasping for breath. He didn't have the energy to call out. Hopefully one of his partners would hear his labored breathing and come to his rescue.

“Geralt? Did you- oh Eskel, darling, what is it? What’s happened?”

Jaskier’s hands were on him almost immediately, feeling his forehead stroking his back. Eskel leaned into the touch, happy for the brief bit of relief from the intense pain in his stomach.

“Sick,” he managed to mutter. “I gathered that, darling,” Jaskier whispered fondly. “Tell me what hurts.”

“Stomach,” Eskel whimpered as another wave of discomfort hit, this time causing bile to rise in his throat. “Think I ate something bad.”

“Alright darling,” Jaskier soothed, never stopping rubbing Eskel’s back. “Let’s move you to the bathroom then, in case you get sick. Can you manage that?”

Eskel hesitated. He had barely been able to make it up to their apartment. He didn’t know how much further his shaky legs could carry him. And there was no way that Jaskier would be able to carry him.

“Okay, that’s alright,” Jaskier said, taking Eskel’s silence as he didn't want to move. “We can wait here for Geralt to come back from the store and then they can help you to the bathroom, they should be back any moment now.”

Eskel nodded, pressing his hand further into his stomach as he swallowed hard. “Jask…”

“Okay, okay,” Jaskier said, kissing his sweaty forehead. “I’m just going to grab you a bag, wait right there for me, darling.”

But as soon as Jaskier left, Eskel unraveled. It was as if Jaskier’s had been the only thing holding him together.

At least he had had the presence of mind to not get sick all over their shoes.

“Eskel, darling, it’s okay,” Jaskier said, his voice coming closer to him. He put his arm around Eskel again, resuming rubbing gentle circles into his back.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Eskel choked out, shuddering when his stomach cramped tightly.

“It’s alright,” Jaskier reassured him. “Do you think you’re going to be sick again?”

Eskel took a deep breath and waited a moment before shaking his head. Despite the pain still in his stomach, he felt loads better and could actually bear to open his eyes.

“There you are, darling,” Jaskier muttered, offering Eskel a smile and wiping at his mouth and chin gently with a damp paper towel. “Could you have a sip of water for me?” He held out a glass.

“Yeah.” His voice grated against his throat as he reached for the glass. Jaskier kept a steadying hand on it as he brought it to his lips, taking slow sips.

And that was how Geralt found them, their arms laden with groceries as they walked into the apartment and took in the scene quite literally at their feet: Eskel, covered in his own sick, standing shakily with Jaskier’s arm wrapped around his back as he carefully downed a glass of water.

Eskel could feel the moment Geralt switched into paramedic mode. They set down the groceries a safe distance from the pool of sick on the floor and walked over to Eskel and Jaskier, calmly placing their hand on Eskel’s forehead, just as Jaskier had done.

“I’m fine,” Eskel mumbled unencouragingly as he held his stomach tighter. “Think I just ate something bad.”

“Hmm,” Geralt removed their hand from his forehead and placed two fingers on the pulse point in Eskel’s neck, looking at their watch. When they finished they nodded in satisfaction and turned to look at Jaskier, raising an eyebrow.

“He came in and was very shaky and holding his stomach,” Jaskier said, tightening his hold on Eskel slightly as if to say: Everything’s going to be fine, Geralt’s just doing their job. Eskel knew this, but the reassurance still helped. He got panicky sometimes when Geralt went into paramedic mode.

“No fever?” Geralt asked, moving to look into Eskel’s eyes.

“No,” Jaskier confirmed. “I stood with him for a moment and then he threw up once, about five minutes ago, and then I got him some water.”

Geralt nodded in approval, but frowned when they saw Eskel’s arm still clutching at his stomach. “Do you still feel sick?”

“No,” Eskel said, repeating what he had told Jaskier. “I feel better, actually. My stomach just really hurts.”

“Hmm.” They knelt down, not minding the sick still on the floor and gently pulled Eskel’s arm away from his stomach before placing their own hands there gently. The largeness of Eskel's stomach dwarfed Geralt's hands as they worked.

Eskel hissed as Geralt prodded at his stomach, clearly trying to be as gentle as possible, but their sharp movements were not helping.

“It’s alright,” Jaskier muttered next to him, kissing his temple lightly and moving his hand up and down Eskel’s back. “They���ll be done in a moment.”

True to Jaskier’s word, Geralt pulled their hands away a moment later and stood up.

“What’s the verdict, Doctor?” Jaskier asked playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

Geralt ficked Jaskier’s shoulder, earning a soft ow that made Eskel smile, before looking to Eskel.

“Looks like mild food poisoning or a stomach flu,” They said. “The cramping should go away soon.”

Eskel nodded. He could live with that. Especially when he had two partners to take care of him. His shoulders sagged in relief, there was nothing out of the ordinary wrong with him.

“We should get you cleaned up, darling,” Jaskier said, looking at Geralt. “Would you help him to the bathroom?”

Geralt nodded, eyeing the way that Eskel was still clinging to Jaskier in order to stay upright. Eskel opened his mouth to say that he could walk when suddenly Geralt was gently sliding an arm under his knees and lifting him up.

Eskel squirmed in their arms. “I’m getting my sick all over you,” he protested. He had long since given up protesting that he was too heavy for Geralt to carry. Mostly because Geralt had once told him that they had started working out years ago, when the three of them had gotten together, in order to be able to lift both him and Jaskier at once.

“I’ve had worse,” Geralt reassured him.

Jaskier placed a lingering hand on Eskel’s cheek. “I’m going to clean up and put away the groceries, I’ll be in soon, alright darling? Geralt’s going to take good care of you in the meantime.”

He pressed a light kiss to Eskel’s nose and Geralt whined above him until Jaskier laughed and kissed their cheek as well, before heading to the kitchen

Geralt carried him down the hall to the bathroom, slowly, so as to not aggravate his stomach more, and carefully set him on the closed toilet seat.

“Do you think you’re going to be sick again?” Geralt asked, keeping a steadying, supportive hand on Eskel’s shoulder.

Eskel shook his head.

Geralt seemed satisfied by his answer and moved on to their next question. “Can you get undressed by yourself?”

“I think,” Eskel said, looking down at the work clothes that he was still in, now covered in his own sick. It shouldn't be too difficult to get his shirt off, although he might have trouble bending over.

“Let me know if you need help,” Geralt said, squeezing Eskel’s shoulder before rummaging around under the sink in the bin of various bath products that Jaskier kept.

Eskel clumsily unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off. He managed to undo his belt and the buttons on his pants before another cramp hit that made it excruciating to bend over. He let out an involuntary whimper.

Geralt was there in a second, calmly taking the soiled clothes from Eskel’s hands and tossing them in the sink before gently tugging off his pants, underwear and socks. They pulled off their own clothes quickly and offered Eskel a hand to stand up before guiding him to the shower.

Jaskier had absolutely insisted that their apartment have a huge bathroom because he loved taking baths and sometimes forcing his partners to join him as well. Geralt and Eskel hadn’t really cared either way and had gone along with it. They mostly just used the shower and ignored the giant bathtub, but based on the various products Geralt had taken out, Eskel had a feeling that he was the one who was going to be pampered today instead of Jaskier.

Still, the shower was plenty big enough for the two of them and Geralt let Eskel lean against them, keeping one of their hands wrapped around Eskel’s chest to keep him upright as they turned on the water.

Geralt washed away the sick that had still been stubbornly clinging to Eskel’s skin, making sure to get it all off before turning off the water and guiding him over to the tub, which was already filling.

“Do you need help getting in?” Geralt asked.

The sides of the tub were high and Eskel’s balance was still off. He hated to ask for help doing something so simple, but he knew that Geralt wouldn’t care. Still, the thought of being so helpless made him feel incredibly useless.

“If you don't mind?”

Geralt smiled one of their rare smiles before first pulling Eskel into a tight hug, their wet bodies clinging to each other as Geralt engulfed Eskel in their secure embrace. Geralt kissed away the water droplets on Eskel’s forehead and Eskel sighed at the pleasant pressure of Geralt’s own muscled stomach pressing against his large, soft one, dulling the aches and pains there for the time being.

“You never have to feel bad for asking for help,” Geralt whispered, their professional, paramedic voice gone and replaced with the soft, loving one that they reserved for their partners. “You’re sick, let Jaskier and I take care of you.”

“Okay,” Eskel whispered into Geralt’s neck.

Geralt pulled away and stepped into the tub, keeping a firm hand on Eskel the entire time. Then they offered their arm to Eskel, keeping their other one wrapped around him as he stepped in slowly, ready to take his weight if he fell.

Geralt helped Eskel sit, back against the side of the half-filled tub, as they began to futz with Jaskier’s bath serums and salts and god knew what else.

Eskel let his eyes slip closed as the water lapped around him, already feeling heavenly against his sore stomach. Soon, the steam was filled with the faint scent of lavender and chamomile. The jets, another thing that Jaskier insisted that they have, were flicked on behind him and only then did he feel Geralt settle next to him, tugging at Eskel’s shoulders until he was leaning against their chest.

Geralt gently tugged Eskel’s arm away from his large stomach and settled their own hands there. But while their earlier examination of Eskel’s stomach had been clinical and painful, their hands now were light and gentle, massaging away the cramps that were still plaguing him.

Eskel sighed into the touch. He loved getting his stomach rubbed, but was often too shy to ask for it, even from his partners. He knew that Geralt and Jaskier didn’t mind that he was on the larger side and they never shied away from showing his body love, but he was always hesitant about asking.

But this...this was heavenly. Geralt’s fingers seemed to anticipate each cramp and ache, massaging them away with ease as their fingers moved over his skin with delicacy in the manner of someone who had spent years memorizing his body. They glided over his skin under the sweet smelling water, occasionally scratching gently at the hair that grew on his stomach, and traced over his numerous stretch marks, never judging him, just loving and caring for his body.

Eskel whimpered as Geralt’s fingers brushed over a particularly sensitive spot above his hip.

“You like this, don’t you?” Geralt muttered, their voice vibrating against Eskel’s back.

“Mmmhm.” It was the only sound that Eskel could make, too overcome by the bliss that was Geralt massaging away his pain.

“You don’t have to be in pain for us to rub your stomach,” Geralt whispered, one of their hands coming to cup Eskel’s stomach protectively as the other continued rubbing at the sensitive spot on his side. “It’s a very nice stomach.”

Eskel snorted at Geralt’s awkward compliment.

“It is ,” Geralt muttered crossly. “I think it’s big enough for both Jaskier and I to rub at once, actually."

And if that thought didn't reduce Eskel to a puddle.

“But the point is that you can ask for these things,” Geralt continued. “We’re your partners, we want to make you feel happy and loved.”

“I know,” Eskel whispered, finally finding his words. “I’ll remember for next time.”

“Hmm,” Geralt hummed in satisfaction, never stopping their fingers from rubbing away Eskel’s pain. The cramps were coming less frequently now, but the dull ache was still there.

He didn't want Geralt to stop.

That was how Jaskier found them: Eskel, leaning against Geralt’s chest, half asleep and getting his stomach rubbed.

“Oh my poor darling,” Jaskier whispered, kneeling down next to the tub and turning off the water before kissing the top of Eskel’s head. “Are you feeling any better?”

Eskel nodded.

“I bet you’re both glad that I insisted we get a place with a big tub now, hm?” Jaskier asked smugly.

Eskel didn't need to have his eyes open to know that Geralt was glaring at him.

A sharp cramp went through the left side of Eskel’s stomach right at that moment and he gasped, sitting up and away from Geralt as he felt his stomach begin to clench.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Jaskier muttered, shoving something under Eskel’s chin. “Let it out.”

Geralt rubbed his back as he began to heave, the familiar feeling of bile scorching his throat making him wince, but nothing else came out.

“It’s alright, it’s okay.” Jaskier pushed his wet hair away from his face, muttering soothing words until Eskel’s heaving stopped and he settled back against Geralt, his stomach aching.

Geralt’s hands were immediately back on his stomach, soothing away the ache just as they had been before and Eskel sighed.

Jaskier ran a hand through his wet hair. “Would you like me to wash your hair for you, darling?”

Eskel nodded. Anything to take his mind off of the ache in his stomach. He thought he had been done throwing up. He didn't think he could deal with the painful ache again.

There was the sound of Jaskier gathering bottles and then something sweet and citrusy smelling was being rubbed into his hair, the scent quickly overpowering any lingering stench of sickness.

Jaskier’s fingers massaged at his scalp, another one of his weak spots, although this was one that his partners knew about. But between Geralt’s hands rubbing his stomach and Jaskier’s hands scratching gently at his scalp, Eskel thought that it was possible that he had achieved pure bliss.

He just wished that he wasn't sick. That way he would have been able to appreciate it properly.

Jaskier washed the soap from his hair gently, using a cup that he filled with water and holding his hand just so so that none of the bubbles got into his eyes. Then there was another burst of citrus as Jaskier rubbed conditioner through Eskel’s hair.

Eskel usually skipped this step in his own shower routine, mostly out of pure laziness, but Jaskier loved it when his hair was shiny and smooth. He focused on the feeling of Jaskier carefully detangling his hair as he raked his fingers through the soap-coated strands.

“Your hair is going to be so soft, darling,” Jaskier whispered as he rinsed out the conditioner. “I’ll even dry it for you if you want.”

Another thing that Eskel never did for himself. But he had to admit that the thought of going to bed right now with his hair wet did not sound fun.

“Please?” he asked quietly.

“Of course, darling,” Jaskier said. “Are you ready to get out?”

Eskel hesitated. The water had grown slightly cold, but he didn't want Geralt to stop rubbing his stomach. He knew it was stupid, but he thought that if Geralt could see his stomach, they wouldn’t want to give it the same love and attention because it was too large. Right now it was hidden by the bath water, and he knew that Geralt and Jaskier had seen it before, even used it as a pillow from time to time, but that was different than caressing and rubbing it. They might not want to.

“I can rub your stomach more when we get out,” Geralt whispered, as if reading Eskel’s thoughts.

“Promise?” Eskel couldn't help the small, desperate word that escaped his lips.

“Of course.” Geralt sealed their promise with a wet kiss to Eskel’s neck.

Jaskier flicked the drain and the sweet scented bubbled started to recede.

Geralt shifted, preparing to stand as they hooked their arms under Eskel’s armpits. “Can you get your legs under you?” They whispered.

Eskel tried, bending his knees and planting his feet on the bottom of the tub, but the action made his stomach cramp horribly and he whined in discomfort.

“It’s alright darling,” Jaskier whispered. “Just a moment longer and then you can rest again.”

True to Jaskier’s word, Geralt stood the both of them up not a moment later and the ache in Eskel’s stomach lessened once he was standing again

Geralt and Jaskier helped him out of the tub and dried him off before helping him into a pair of underwear and one of his softest t-shirts.

True to Jaskier’s word, he brushed out Eskel’s hair and dried it while Geralt got dressed and cleaned up the bathroom. The warm air from the hair dryer was pleasant, and Eskel was almost sad when Jaskier turned it off.

But then Geralt was scooping him up again and carrying him to their bed, sliding him under the covers gently. Geralt curled up against his right side and Jaskier settled on his left.

Eskel was nearly asleep. The bath had been soothing, as well as his partners’ caretaking, and he had nearly tired himself out. So he didn't catch the brief words that Geralt and Jaskier exchanged over him.

But he felt both of their hands slide under his shirt and rub at his stomach in the same way that Geralt had been doing earlier.

Eskel gasped in surprise, not expecting his partners to be so forthcoming in this, but they continued all the same, rubbing away his aches and pains until they were nothing more than a memory.

Geralt ran their other hand along Eskel’s thigh as well, massaging the soft skin there with the heel of their hand. Jaskier let his other hand drift up further under Eskel’s shirt, rubbing the soft padding covering his ribs and chest, giving his top surgery scars a little extra attention before working his way back down.

“You don’t-” Eskel gasped, too overcome by the love that his partners were showing him. “You don’t have to.”

“Oh darling,” Jaskier murmured, his breath tickling the hair on Eskel’s stomach as he kissed gently across his fading aches. “We want to.”

Eskel thought he felt tears prick in his eyes as Geralt’s lips joined Jaskier’s, pressing gentle kisses into his stomach. He drifted off, surrounded by his two partners and their undying love for him.

__

theyre SOMFT YOUR HONOR

go check out mine and jennies blog @softtummysupport if you like this kind of stuff, and/or join our discord (link in pinned post on that blog)

tag list: (hmu if you want on or off)

@percy-jackson-is-sexy- @barlowpng @eminasan @llamasdumpsterfire @nonegenderleftpain @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @geekymagicalpotato @jaskierswolf @toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account @toss-a-coin-to-your-lesbian @littleredhotridinghood @fontegagrilledcheese @acemoppet @lookatgeraltmyboi @gods-oopsie-woopsie @julek @funkylittlebard @dani-dandelino @officerjennie @kuripon @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @dapandapod 

[angstyaches]

Why Do Bad Things Happen To Hungry People?

This is my first hunger fic in a very long time. How the hell are you supposed to title these things?!

It’s also the first ever fic from the Lucyverse, as I’ve decided to call it (basically, any fics that follow the day-to-day lives of Lucy’s flatmates).

CW: hunger, overworking, getting stuck on public transport.

___

Autumn waved as she entered the coffee shop, flinching as the little bell over the door went off to announce her arrival. She glanced up at it, gesturing with her palm for it to calm down, as though it should have somehow known she wasn’t a real customer. Payton’s heart skipped a beat as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and scampered away to an armchair by the window, not wanting to disturb her partner while they worked.

She was so freaking cute.

“Busy today?”

Payton tore their eyes off the back of Autumn’s head and turned to look at Jake, who had only started his supervisor shift five minutes ago. He was inspecting how much money was in the till as Payton laid out a fresh batch of muffins in the food case. The wafting scents of cinnamon and banana and chocolate were all so enticing that Payton could no longer ignore the fact that they’d had to work through lunch. Going an afternoon without food had left them with an ache in their stomach that had only been aggravated more by the stress of keeping the constant stream of customers satisfied. It had rained unexpectedly all afternoon, which had sent floods of park visitors running for shelter and warm drinks.

“Very,” Payton replied to Jake. “I don’t think we had any free tables for about four hours. We barely had time to wipe them down between customers.”

“Christ,” Jake grumbled, closing the till. “And you managed okay, even though Stephen called in sick?”

Payton gestured around themself, displaying the fact that nothing appeared to have burned down or crumbled. Part of them wanted to complain further about the toll the day had taken on them, but it felt better to just act confident about it. “Everything was fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“They should be paying you as a supervisor, you know,” Jake said. “I’ll talk to Anne about interviewing you.”

“Really? That would – that would be really cool.” Payton blushed, partly from the praise from their superior, but mostly because their stomach chose that moment to twist inside of them, releasing a long, rumbling growl. The music in the coffee shop was low and calming at this time of evening, but… maybe it would still muffle the sound?

When Jake double-glanced towards the front of Payton’s apron, it was clear that the music had muffled nothing.

“Sorry.” Payton placed a hand over their belly. “When Stephen couldn’t come, it meant I couldn’t take my lunch break.”

Jake frowned and glanced at his watch. “Your shift started at ten thirty, right? You haven’t had a break since then?”

Payton shook their head.

“Fuck it, go home. I’ll tell Anne you clocked out on time.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, you’ve only got another half-hour anyway, and the place is dead now.” Jake gestured to the room of thirty-six seats, of which only five were currently occupied. “Plus, your girl’s already here. No use in keeping her waiting.”

Payton was already wriggling out of their apron and heading for the door that led to the break room and lockers. “Thank you so much.”

Once they were in the break room, silence crashed over Payton like waves. The shop hadn’t been loud just now by any means, but they hadn’t been away from a din of any kind for almost ten hours. Their ears rang as they put their apron and work shoes in their locker and gulped a half-bottle of water that they found in there. The liquid hit their stomach like a solid lump of rock, but luckily it was lukewarm, and the discomfort didn’t linger for too long.

Payton didn’t linger either.

They tugged their jacket on over their buttoned shirt, wishing they’d brought something with a hood today, in case it decided to rain again before they made it to the tram. Maybe Autumn had thought to bring an umbrella, they reckoned, sighing in premature relief at the thought of her, waiting in the shop for them. They quickly pulled their headband off, brushing their dark bangs downwards and tossing the band into the locker for the next day.

As they pushed back through the door to the coffee shop, Payton felt like their feet had ceased to exist, leaving behind ankles that just floated through the air with a human body propped over them. They saw the back of Autumn’s head near the window, and they smiled to themself, momentarily forgetting the hunger and exhaustion and stress.

“See you tomorrow,” Jake called from behind the till.

Payton shot him a half-hearted salute, never slowing on their beeline to where Autumn was waiting. Well, it was less of a beeline than Payton would have liked; as though to personally inconvenience them, the coffee shop was full of tables and chairs and sofas, which needed to be manoeuvred around.

“Ooh!” Autumn exclaimed as arms snaked around her shoulders from behind the armchair. She dropped her book into her lap and reached up with one hand to tickle the back of Payton’s neck. “Hello, baby. Finished early?”

Payton mumbled an inaudible confirmation against her hair, not caring that they were probably messing up her ponytail. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Autumn said. “A little tired.”

“Me too,” Payton sighed, lifting their head but remaining slumped against the back of the armchair. They felt a gentle cramping in their stomach as they reconsidered their answer. “And hungry.”

“Huh.” Autumn reached up and tapped her book against the top of Payton’s head. The gesture was unnecessarily gentle, as though she’d hit them with something thicker than a paperback print of Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape. “Well, luckily for you, I’ve got all the makings of your favourite waiting in your fridge.”

Payton’s stomach clenched again, their heart lifting slightly. It had been tricky to get Lucy to agree to it, but Autumn had her own key to the apartment; not only did she call around to visit Payton so often that she might as well have lived there too, but there were often issues at home that she opted to spend the night away from.

But that wasn’t the point right now.

“Your famous sausage rolls?” Payton sank even harder against the back of the armchair, partly to be dramatic, but partly because their body literally weakened a little at the notion of Autumn’s cooking.

Autumn smiled up at them from the cushions. “Pastry’s already made. Just got to assemble and bake them. I got us some oven chips too. Oh – I forgot to check if you had any beans in the cupboard, though.”

“We’re four college students; of course we’ve got beans in the cupboard,” Payton assured her, loudly enough to disguise the fact that their stomach was growling again as they pictured the dinner they hadn’t known awaited them.

“Excellent point.” Autumn scooped up the strap of her shoulder bag and slipped her book inside. She smoothed down the hem of her pinafore as she stood up. “Ready to go?”

“Way beyond ready,” Payton smiled, watching her scoop up the umbrella that was resting against the arm of the chair.

 ***

Payton wriggled uncomfortably in a scratchy tram seat, unable to find a relaxed position where they didn’t feel painful pressure building up in their stomach. It was really starting to ache, now that there was nothing to keep Payton’s mind busy. They would have loved nothing more than to be home already, biting into the flaky pastry and warm, soft filling of Autumn’s sausage rolls and finally getting something into their cramping belly.

“You alright, baby? You’re quiet.”

“Am I?” Payton laughed. Their head was spinning just a little, and their voice was starting to sound shaky. “Sorry, I’m just very tired.”

It didn’t feel good to lie to Autumn, even if it was less a lie and more a concealment of the truth. She would never say the words out loud, but Payton knew that she thought of them as a pushover, both in matters at work and at the apartment. There were a lot of aspects of their job that she called unacceptable, and if she’d had her way, they would have quit the coffee shop by now. They had no idea how she would react if they became a shift supervisor and had to take on even more responsibilities, but Payton reckoned that was a discussion for another night when things were a little more certain.

In the meantime, it was best not to say anything about having to skip lunch.

Slipping their hands into the pockets of their open jacket, Payton subtly rubbed their middle, feeling their empty stomach roll around in distress. They tensed and held their breath, hoping to prevent any noises from emerging.

There was a sharp jerking motion as the train slowed to a stop. Autumn gasped lightly and put out a hand to stop herself from sliding forward in her seat. They both looked at each other and held the gaze for a moment before a voice crackled over the tram’s intercom.

“Apologies, folks, it’s just a minor technical issue. Service will resume shortly.”

“Shortly?” Autumn mumbled in annoyance. “Talk about vague...”

“Damn it,” Payton sighed, sinking lower in their seat and pushing their hands deeper into the pockets of their jacket. “Why do bad things happen to good people?”

Autumn chuckled; she was still sitting fully upright, leaning towards Payton’s seat as she tried to see up to the top of the tram. “Assumptive of you to refer to yourself as good people.”

“Not me, baby. I was talking about you.”

“Oh. Aw. Thank you.” Autumn smiled and reached out a hand, both to acknowledge Payton and to give herself some balance as she craned her neck. 

The hand landed lightly on Payton’s belly, which - in their slumped position - acted as an almost-flat surface for her to lean on as she continued peering up through the carts. She was probably expecting to see tram staff coming through, explaining the situation to the passengers; what she probably wasn’t expecting was to feel rumbling movement beneath her palm, which was accompanied by a loud, pinched growl.

Payton let out a little groan too, turning their face to bury it against Autumn’s shoulder.

“What’s going on, baby?” Autumn half-laughed, her eyes trained on Payton’s stomach as it vibrated under her hand again. She teasingly ran a finger between the buttons in their shirt, gesturing as though to peek under the fabric. “You hiding an angry tiger in there?”

“I told you I was hungry.”

“Yeah, but...” Autumn gasped and rubbed a wide circle across Payton’s belly as it roared again, prompting them to glance around and make sure the seats close to them hadn’t magically filled up with people in the last few seconds.

Autumn, on the other hand, had had her attention drawn away from anything to do with the tram, and towards a particular, grumbling organ. “Baby, what’d you have for lunch?”

Payton groaned again, wriggling a little further down so that their knees were pressed against the seat in front of them. They felt a red blush in their cheeks as Autumn sat back and peered down at their face.

They sighed, eyes trailing down to where Autumn’s hand was still resting on their belly. “The shop was really busy today, and the shift supervisor couldn’t come in, so I ended up working through lunch.”

Payton then held their breath again, both in anticipation of their stomach letting out another whine under Autumn’s palm, and of her response.

“You’re so good, baby.”

Payton raised their eyebrows. “Am I? You’re not mad at me?”

“Of course I’m not mad at you,” Autumn sighed. “I obviously don’t like it when you don’t take care of yourself properly, but I also wish I had your level of dedication.”

A smile played on Payton’s lips as they nudged the side of their head against Autumn’s waist. “Jake’s gonna see about getting me bumped up to supervisor.”

“And he should,” Autumn laughed, lifting her other hand to sweep Payton’s eyes out of their eyes. “You’re amazing at that job, and no one ever tells you enough.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Autumn leaned down to kiss the side of Payton’s head. “Just promise me that you’ll use your powers as supervisor for good. Like giving yourself lunch breaks.” She gently tapped one finger against Payton’s stomach. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Payton mumbled, burying their face as their chest fluttered. The glow of being praised and worried about lasted only a precious moment though, because there was still an empty belly in the vicinity, and it was determined not to let itself be forgotten in all the chatter.

“You’re mad at Payton though, aren’t you?” Autumn pursed her lips as she spoke to their stomach, as though she was talking to a cat. She patted her hand against Payton’s belly as it grumbled. “That’s okay, I’d be mad too, if my owner spent the day giving yummy food to customers and not me.”

The mention of food sent Payton’s thoughts drifting back towards the dinner that had been promised, and they groaned again, this time nudging their head right into Autumn’s lap. She bit her lip and glanced around at the nearby seats, once more confirming that there was nobody else in the cart.

“Comfy down there?” There was a tiny twist of irony in Autumn’s voice, but her tone was mostly genuine. 

“Kind of,” Payton said, using both hands to keep Autumn’s pressed to their aching gut. They glanced up at the grey ceiling of the tram, at the darkness that lay just outside the window, hopelessness welling in their chest as their belly rolled unhappily. “Just so hungry.”

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just wish I knew how long we were gonna be stuck here.”

“Me too,” Autumn sighed. “But no matter how long it takes us to get home, I’m still going to cook for you the minute we get in.”

“Mmm.” Payton smiled to themself and closed their eyes, letting go of Autumn’s hand as it began to work slow, gentle circles into their belly through their shirt. “Thank you.”

[neakco]

The Lost Temple ch. 2

Ao3 Ch.1 Ch.3 Masterlist

Marinette doesn't fully trust the American Heroes but knows that she probably needs their help.

Tim doesn’t trust these two teens that are definitely hiding something.

Yet they made camp together anyway.

Ch.2 Sleepless Night

It had taken longer then they would have like to figure out a watch schedule. While they had both agreed to an alliance, neither group trusted the other.

 

Finally a compromise was made. Each group set their own schedule. Marinette and Adrien agreed to each do half the night. While the Trio took one 2 hour shift each.

 

Adrien would take the first 3 hours and would be starting his shift with Superboy. Impulse had the 2nd watch which he would share with both of them before she would finish out the night with Red Robin.

 

Marinette was a little nervous, she knew Superboy had heard Plagg earlier. They weren’t used to others being able to hear as well as her Kitty. She was lucky that her bond with Tikki allowed communication via emotions.

 

She stared up at the stars, at least this wouldn’t be the first time she had gone without sleep for a mission. She glanced briefly at the tent the American heroes had set up. It looked cramped. She was quite happy with her blanket.

 

Her and Adrien had tried using tents before but he preferred to sleep up high and she enjoyed the connection to the plants she got on the ground. It always allowed her to feel more rested, even if, like tonight, she didn’t actually sleep.

 

Adrien came to let her know it was her turn so she rolled up her blanket and went to join Impulse.

 

The boy never seemed to stop, he constantly dashed back and forth as he talked non-stop about everything.

 

“Doesn’t that drain your energy?”

 

He stopped short as if he had forgotten she was there. “No, well yes, but II can quickly get back to civilization for snacks.”

 

She nodded as the hero began to move around and started talking about his favourite snacks. She had an idea to run past Red Robin once he joined her on watch. She would suggest it to Impulse but she had a gut feeling that would be a bad idea.

 

 

Tim woke a little early for his turn and crept towards the trees in order to observe Marinette and Bart.

He was a little surprised that she seemed interested in the one-sided food conversation. At least he had assumed it was one-sided until she chirped in with a question about Bart’s preferences on French pastries. He didn’t expect the girl to become so offended when Bart told her he didn’t like croissants.

 

Tim decided that it was close enough to his watch and stepped out of the shadows.

 

Impulse flew into the trees in his surprise while Marinette hadn’t moved. Had he lost his touch? No, she may not have jumped but he noticed she had a hand to her back where it hadn’t been before. He concluded that she had probably reached for a weapon.

 

“Seriously Rob? I love you but that’s just mean.”

 

Tim smirked, “Maybe next time you will pay attention.”

 

“You’re a bat, doesn’t matter how much I pay attention.” Bart grumbled as he waved goodnight to Marinette and headed off to find his sleeping bag.

 

Tim turned back to Marinette and was shocked by the level of malice being directed at him. “What did I…”

 

“Don’t you ever do that again.” Her voice, while harsh, was soft and filled with concern. “I could have killed you. If it was Adrien you had startled you wouldn’t be alive.”

 

Tim swallowed his retort. Normally he would think it hilarious that this tiny enigma thought that she or her delicate looking friend could hurt him, but there was something there. It was the way every sound stilled at her anger, the way his gut yelled at him to run. Putting all this together with their first conversation, he began to wonder if the two teens had been granted power by the gods.

 

Marinette was taking deep meditative breaths. “You are lucky I analyze before reacting.”

 

“Sorry. I had figured you had a sixth sense.”

 

She eyed him, “You were testing a theory?”

 

“Yes. I like to know what my allies are capable of and it’s not like you two have been very forthcoming.”

 

It surprised Tim to see her relax at this rather than get angrier.

 

“The decision to share isn’t really up to me or Adrien. I assume it is similar to your identity, unless what I've heard about Batman is wrong.”

 

Tim laughed quietly while keeping an eye to their surroundings. “We actually tell people our identities all the time, people just assume we are joking.”

 

Her eyes widened, “That works?”

 

“Well it works if the public's image of your two personas are vastly different. People will believe what they want no matter what you tell them.”

 

He was about to ask if she was thinking of becoming a hero when he noticed her darkening look. Unlike before where it had been anger mixed with concern, this time it was mixed with sadness and pain.

 

“You okay?”

 

“People really do believe what they want.” Her eyes turned wistful and she looked up into the trees. “Really shows you who your real friends are.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” How was he supposed to comfort her? Alfred would probably offer her hot chocolate and sweets.

 

“No, it all happened years ago. I am mostly over it.”

 

Tim let out a sigh of relief, at her look he tried to smile kindly. “No offense but I was raised by the most emotionally distant people and I really had no idea what to do if you started crying.”

 

The sudden laughter surprised him. That wasn’t a normal reaction. He frowned as he watched her try to stifle the sound.

 

“I'm sorry, it’s just, well, welcome to the club.” She started laughing a little bit harder and maybe a bit more broken. “Adrien can tell you some stories. Well I can two, but mine only start a few years back. I don’t have a life's worth like he does.”

 

“But why is that so funny?” He frowned harder trying to understand if he was the joke.

 

He jumped and threw a batarang that thankfully missed when Adrien suddenly dropped out of a tree and landed beside him.

 

“Where we come from it was always better to laugh instead of giving in to emotional distress.” He turned to Marinette, “You okay M'lady?”

 

“I just,” her giggles increased slightly, “strays, it’s always the strays.” She giggled a bit longer before stopping suddenly and glaring at Adrien, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

 

Tim could see the blonde visibly gulp as he lied poorly, “bathroom. Going back to sleep now. Bye.” He quickly left back into the trees and took off roughly in the direction of camp based off the rustling.

 

“You two are very strange.”

 

“Says the talented human commanding literal super humans.” She snorted. “Oh, I almost forgot. Do you think Impulse could quickly map out the jungle for us?”

 

“If he can keep himself from tripping over roots and snakes then maybe. Why didn’t you ask him?” Tim was curious. She had spent an hour with Impulse, there had been plenty of time.

 

“I figured you were the leader and I would have to ask no matter what. Mostly I was worried he wouldn’t be able to but pride would cause him to say yes anyways.”

 

Tim tried to study her expression but it gave nothing away. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

 

“Simple, Impulse acts like a younger Adrien.”

 

 

Marinette thought back, Chat had been so free. She missed those times. Unfortunately reality had hit them both fairly hard. She doubted if they could ever be that carefree again.

 

“I would deny your assessment if I could.” Red Robin leaned back against her tree and typed into his arm. She hadn’t realized there was technology integrated into the suit. She was almost jealous.

 

A holographic map of the jungle was displayed floating above his arm so she leaned forward to gain a better look.

 

Red Robin pointed to a small area causing a dot to appear  “This is our camp.” He gestured to highlight a portion green. “This is the area we checked yesterday. My initial reports showed activity in these areas.” This time the highlighted red, or brown in the areas that overlapped with the searched area.

 

She hummed in thought, “Add another kilometer to the searched radius. Adrien split off a couple times yesterday.”

 

She could see his eyes shift to suspicion briefly but he complied anyway

 

“If you knew that then you never needed Impulse to make a map, you wanted him to find the enemy.”

 

She nodded but stayed silent and observant. It was kind of nice watching someone else think like she does.

 

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea if Impulse was capable of stealth. “She watched him remove the searched area from the map in order to zoom in on the rest.

 

“You have a plan.” She was grinning, she could already tell what he was thinking.

 

The way he looked at her screamed that he knew that she had already figured it out. She was happily surprised when he decided to continue explaining to her.

 

“I propose that we split up. My team has trackers to keep track of our own whereabouts and comms to communicate. I think Superboy and Adrien take this route.” A Blue and red line appeared on the map. “While we take this path more to the right.” This time the line was red and black. She knew they were supposed to represent his colours but they worked just as well for her. She bet Adrien would have a laugh.

 

“I'll have Impulse cover this middle area in between our groups to cover any gaps and act as a runner in case we need anything. Anything to add?”

 

She bit her lip. These were heroes, she could probably trust them, at least a little. Plus Adrien wasn’t able to sense the temple’s magic. “How good is Superboy's x-ray vision?” Damn it, she thought she had fixed her word blurting problem.

 

Red Robin seemed surprised by her words, “What? Why?”

 

She chewed on her lip a bit more before she felt Tikki's reassurance. “What I am about to tell you is secret enough that it could very well get you killed. Are you sure you want to know?”

 

She watched his face carefully. There was hesitation, doubt, curiosity, and finally that thirst for knowledge that got her into trouble constantly.

 

He finally shrugged, “Just an average day for me.”

 

She smiled but dropped her voice into a serious tone. “There is a temple here that was lost underground years ago. No matter what else happens I can not let anyone get the knowledge and treasures it holds.” She remembered some of the things the monks had told her and Adrien without ever actually explaining what the temple was guarding. “If these people find the temple first then best case scenario has them taking over the world.”

 

Red Robin's voice was low, “And worst case?”

 

“They destroy the entire universe as we know it.”

Taglist @toodaloo-kangaroo

[tanzaniiite]

can i request dad headcanons for oikawa? perhaps with a daughter? if it's ok with u👉👈

DAD HEADCANONS • OIKAWA T.

requests: OPEN

warnings: none!

yes more domestic stuff 😌 thank you for the request!

he loves his baby girl,, like so much

ngl he was bit weary when he found out you were pregnant, but not bc he didn’t want a child!

it was bc of what he did for work, oikawa travels a lot for volleyball so he didn’t want to be an absentee parent

he didn’t want his child to not know who he was

but when your daughter was born.. literally the happiest day of his life

she really had him bawling in the hospital room

your daughter is 4 now and you honestly cannot believe that oikawa thought this little girl would forget him

she’s his #1 fan, hands down

when he has to travel for work, tooru always sleeps in her bed with her for the whole week before he leaves

it gives him major cramps in the morning but worth it

him leaving is always the hardest, your daughter gets so sad and that makes oikawa sad– oh and now they’re crying

once tooru leaves you and your daughter make a countdown for when he comes back home

i was serious when i said she’s her dad’s number one fan

anytime he’s on TV, everything else is forgotten and she’s just sitting there watching her dad in complete admiration

“mommy hurry up! daddy’s on the TV!”

when he comes back home you would’ve thought these two have been separated their whole lives, they’re both drama queens

if i wasn’t clear before, your daughter is 100% a daddy’s girl

although you feel a bit left out sometimes, you understand. some kids just favor one parent over the other, it is what it is

oikawa doesn’t miss any chance to rub in your face that he’s the favorite parent, of course his joking though

one thing tooru doesn’t like, is discipling his daughter

let’s say he’s away and your daughter did something wrong and you tell him about it, he’ll back you up no doubt, but that doesn’t mean he likes it

“sweetheart, you can’t hit people that’s not nice”

“but daddy!”

“n-no please don’t do that”

he’s a sucker for her so he sucks at discipline which makes you the bad guy 90% of the time

n e ways, did someone say uncle iwa?? 👀

iwaizumi is her uncle, he didn’t have a choice

ik this abt oikawa but let me rant real quick

hajime is wayyyy better at discipline than oikawa that’s for sure

“hey kiddo, your mom told me you hit someone at school? don’t do that, you wanna be like your shitty father?”

he forgets to curb his mouth sometimes

“yes! my shitty daddy is the best!”

“no he’s not, trust me”

and now he’s arguing with a 4 year old

but she loves her uncle iwa 🥰

back to oikawa,, he’s definitely the “fun” parent and sometimes dismisses his daughter’s actions that don’t sit right with you

this.. can lead to some arguments, nothing major but major enough for him to sleep on the couch

if your daughter does something really bad like, bullying he will put his foot down

he’s more of a talker than a punisher, he’ll talk to her and explain what she’s doing is wrong and how she needs to apologize

if that doesn’t work then he will punish her (like no TV time for a week)

and if he has a game later that week, she’ll be so distraught bc she can’t watch her dad

it hurts him too but he rather she learns her lesson

but! let’s end this on a lighter note!

when oikawa has a game and both you and your daughter are off from work/ school you’ll go to support him in person

it’s always a surprise though

the look that oikawa gets on his face when he hears his daughter cheering for him in the stands is priceless

he always thinks he’s imagining things until he hears loud and clear

“go daddy! you got this! look that’s my daddy!”

and then he sees you with your daughter on you lap waving at him, he almost cries every time

it’s safe to say his team always wins when you guys are in the stands

tanzaniiite © 2020 — all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or copy. do not plagiarize. thank you.

[sicjimin]

Hello 🙂

Would you be willing to do a namgi fic (platonic or romantic) where Namjoon has a bad stomachache, but he has to push through an awards ceremony, performance and be a leader and all that jazz. Yoongi is trying to comfort him the whole time.

Take care of yourself.

A.N : my first namjoon fic !! eheh thank u for requesting :] this such a cute idea. I'm sorry this took a longgg time T.T I hope this does justice to your expectation .. :D

Ever since their debut, the end of the year—where most of the awards ceremony take time— is the scariest time in his life. It always brings more unnecessary anxiousness in his body rather than on daily basis. This year is no different .. or, if it's any different, he was more fucked up this time.

Namjoon knows he was fuck up when he feels full after few spoons of his dinner. He ate half of it before he pushed the bowl away, gaining a questioning look from his boyfriend, "You're not gonna finish it?", Yoongi asks. Namjoon huff as he gives a rub on his stomach, it genuinely feels tight, " Mhm, no. I'm full already". Yoongi frowns grown deeper, "But you barely eat anything since lunch though?"

"I know,", Namjoon brush his hair back with frustration, " I just, don't feel like it", he feels worse as time goes by, "let's finish up your food and go home hyung, I'm tired". Yoongi gives the latter one last curious look before back to his food. Being Namjoon's boyfriend for the last 2 years and his best friend for the last 8 years, making him know the younger by the back of his hand. He knows something is up with Namjoon, and his assumption proven right when Namjoon dozing off in the car back home. Namjoon can't handle silence in the car— at least there should be a radio, and now seeing him not protest or whine with the complete silence is making Yoongi more alerted.

When they arrived, Namjoon was moving so fast— it seems like he couldn't wait to curled himself to sleep, because Yoongi just finished parking the car and got into their room, he already greeted by Namjoon's figure curled under the blanket. Yoongi sighs before he retreats himself to the bathroom.

He scoots himself to his side of the bed, propped his head on his arms to support his body. He runs his fingers through the younger hair, knowing well that he's not sleeping —judging by how forced the closed eyes there. Yoongi whispers as his hand now move to graze the latter cheeks, "Joonie, hey, you're not sleeping, are you?"

Namjoon groans and turns his body so he could face the older. He wraps his hand around Yoongi's little waist, pushing the older closer so he could nuzzle his head further, "Mhm, can't". Yoongi's touch is so calming, Namjoon actually starts to dozing off as Yoongi plays with his hair, " Why? You look off after dinner". Then its silence between them, "You're sick, right?", Yoongi adds. Namjoon huff, he really can't hide anything from his boyfriend, " I can't say I'm sick .. like literally sick since it's only my stomach that hurts so bad. Maybe it's only dinner not agreeing with me hyung", Namjoon mustered a strained smile, "Lets just sleep hyung. I will feel better later. We got a long day tomorrow". Yoongi observes his boyfriend longer before giving up and groans, " Oh shit .. award shows. I hate that", Namjoon giggles, "Oh tell me about it hyung"

—

Yoongi eyeing his boyfriend that seated beside him, observing the younger through their mirror as the staff applying their makeup. They still have around 35 minutes before the red carpet starts. Yoongi could see how Namjoon getting worse as the second pass by, judging by how color has drained from his lips—making the makeup noona applying more lipbalm to conceal it— and how his hands never leaving his stomach. Yoongi turns his gaze to his mirror again, his hands slowly moving to reach Namjoon's and interlaced it. He grazes his thumbs over the latter palms. Yoongi could feel Namjoon's head turn to face him, before he turns back the squeeze.

The rest of the award show went like a blur for Namjoon. It feels like he is a robot that talks automatically once camera is on. Cheers to his 10 years of experience in interviews and red carpet, he successfully going through that one. The only thing left is enjoying the performance, accepting awards if they got some, and their performance.

Namjoon sighs in relief when he could see their seat. It still a few hours until their performance, at least he still could calm down his stomach that now feels worse after all the acts he pulled. He grabs the tissue on his suit pocket and crumpled it, absorbing cold sweats that starts making its way along with wave of cramps that shooting him on and off. He turns his head when he sees a commotion on his side with his peripheral sight, "Hyung? Arent your seat near Taehyung?", he asks when he sees Yoongi seated beside him, " I asked Jungkook to change"

"Why?"

"Dont you want to be near with me?", Yoongi asks back. Namjoon bites his inner cheeks, holding himself to sighs in joy and let out a stupid smile. Damn, he loves his boyfriend so much.

"I'm okay hyung", Namjoon says softly. He knows why Yoongi clings with him. He means, if the situation reversed where Yoongi needs to go through schedule after puking his guts out in the morning and complaining stomachache, he would cling to Yoongi too. "You're breaking cold sweats Namjoon-ah, and your hands are trembling", Yoongi says softly, worry is prominent in his voice. Namjoon widened his eyes, he forgot how observant his boyfriend is. " How bad is it?"

Namjoon bites his lower lips as he watched the performer on stage, "It feels like someone is squeezing wet towel inside me, hyung", Yoongi grazes his thumbs over the younger boy's palms, " Do you want to ask for medicine? We still have a long time here"

Namjoon shakes his head, "I think i still can handle this hyung. Don't worry"

But favor didn't work on Namjoon's side, since it's only been 30 minutes after he said with confidence "I can handle this" to his boyfriend now he's fighting with his iced americano that begging to come out. He squirms in his seat, trying to found a comfortable position that maybe could help to calm his bubbling stomach. The performer on the stage was just a mere figure that dancing and singing there, Namjoon's focus was already gone. He moves his position again as he let out a nauseated huff. He feels hot flush all over his body. He took a glance on Yoongi, hoping that his boyfriend catch how uncomfortable he's right now. and he's right.

"Joon-ah", Yoongi calls, his eyes filled with worry. Namjoon gulps down the liquid that was creeping on his throat, " Yoongi, i think i need to go to the bathroom for a minute"

"Let me go with you", Yoongi already lifts his body before Namjoon push him back softly, " No", Namjoon hushed, "Fans might be worried if there are a lot of us that gone. I will go alone"

"Are you sure you will be okay?"

Namjoon shuts his eyes closed and nods, "I will be back", he says before walking down through artist seats. When he couldn't hear more noise from the stage and entering the hallway with fewer people, he speeds up his legs and burst the stall door—he's lucky no one is there— when he sees one. The next thing he knows his body takes over as dark brown watery liquid rushing through his mouth and splashes to the water below. He gasps a quick air as his stomach cramps again, bringing another round of warm liquid out of his body. He keeps pouring wave after wave. His body bent further following the motion of his cramped stomach. He is almost sure if it's not because of his hand holding on the wall and the toilet tightly, he already falls over. Namjoon sniffles after the wave tapered down and only bitter bile spurting out. Terrible is beyond an understatement. He leaned to the wall as his body almost give up—if he didn't remember the stylist noona nagging that he will get if he stained his suit. Namjoon rubs his stomach, he already feels empty, but it still sloshing and twisting. He bites his lips as tears escaped his eyes. He needs Yoongi.

"Joon-ah?", Namjoon eyes widened. His cloudy brain tries to figure whose voice is that, but failed. "Joon? Are you here?"

Oh. Its Yoongi. Namjoon gulped down the lump in his throat before weakly answered, "Here"

The stall door opened, showing his tiny boyfriend figure, "How are you feeling?", Yoongi softly says as he makes his way to the stall. He flushed the toilet and guided the younger body to his, " 'm feeling terrible, hyung"

Yoongi rubs his back, "I know. Do you want to just rest in the dressing room? There's no way you could perform and all, Joon-ah", Yoongi leaner back a bit so he could see his boyfriend's face, but to no avail, as the younger nuzzled his head deeper on him, " I cant hyung," Namjoon mumbled, "I'm the leader. and if i suddenly disappear, fans will be worried. Everything will be a mess"

Yoongi sighs, he knows there's no way he could convince the younger if he already made up his mind, "Ok but let's ask staff for medicine first. I don't want you to go back there with an empty stomach and no medicine in your body", Namjoon weakly nods before he rinses his mouth and gets dragged by his boyfriend to do whatever he wants him to do.

—

The rest of the award shows goes well. Namjoon managed to give 2 speeches for the awards they received, and the rest of it, the members gratefully backing him up for speaking. Yoongi never left his side during the whole event, gently squeezing his hand every time Namjoon tightens his grip whenever cramps hit him, and rubbing his palm softly whenever he sees Namjoon start being jittery and can't stop gulping down sick. Short to say, he's couldn't ask for a better Yoongi. Namjoon also needs to give applause to his body that still manages to jump, run, and practically— function normally during their performance. It feels like his body understands his duty as he was fine the whole performance, even until closing, and just give up when the time they entered the dorm—as he bolts from the car and runs to throw himself to the toilet for another harsh round of puking his guts out.

"I was wondering how you suddenly manage to act fine the whole time .. it seems like your body is already set up as an idol, hm?", Yoongi murmured as his hand rubbing Namjoon's arched back that still contracts, sending whatever remains from the younger stomach to go out. Namjoon leaned back when he managed to stop dry heaving, his hand shakily wipes his mouth and his nose before he chuckles weakly, " I guess that's the perks of 10 years idol?"