#I think I literally just had indigestion or something

[huntersapprentice]

I hate being prone to health anxiety so much

literally anything can feel weird or off about what I touched or ate or felt, and then I'll freak out about it for two days and forget about it

[bg-brainrot]

The Night They Slept Together

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Tav pines, and their relationship with Astarion shifts ever so slightly. (They literally do just sleep)

Tags: 2nd person POV, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Pining, light hurt and angst, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, coping with feelings, act 2, pre-confession

A/N: some light angst as Tav comes to term with their feelings but we already know where they end up, so it's okay, right? :D

Word count: ~2.1k

--

Your tryst with Astarion should be over by now.

It was supposed to be a one off moment of passion, a way to destress after all of the danger you’d thrown yourselves into. He’d asked so easily, you’d agreed just as readily– a quick celebratory moment after defeating that goblin camp, when your spirits and libido were running high.

The second time? Well, that was easy to write off as well. You’d just fought off an entire creche, moving through it like a pair of practiced assassins, a synchrony you haven’t felt since– well, you’re not certainly you’ve ever felt so in sync with someone. Either way, it was another easy nod to his sly, questioning look. 

You’d had similar excuses for your first night in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, for the handful of midday, afternoon, midnight romps since.

It’s just a way for us to cope with the situation at hand, nothing more, nothing less, you’d told yourself.

That is, until you’d realized that it wasn’t just that. Not to you. 

Oh gods, I love this insane vampire.

The night you’d realized that everything had changed.

What had begun as a distraction for you both, had turned into a poison– one slowly working its way through your system, incapacitating you piece by piece at the thought of another night falling into his arms, sinking deeper into the throes of an impossible love. 

After all, what is this other than convenient? And if you continued to be a mere convenience to him, well, you doubt that this would end well for you. It’s high time that you cut off the source of this poison before it festers too far. Before it grips your vulnerable, aching heart.

That’s what you’d told yourself, but you’re finding it so much harder to cut off the source when he’s standing right in front of you, waiting for you with a smirk toying along the edge of his mouth, an eyebrow raising suggestively as his voice lowers to a sultry invitation. 

You’d come by his tent to say goodnight. Maybe, ‘Good job today.’ Any excuse to see him really, but now you’re met with a challenge.

Astarion’s words don’t make it much easier either.

“Oh my dear, you look positively wound-up after today’s bouts. Care for a little… unwinding?”

His voice drips with promise, with want, with a feeling that echoes through your own traitorous core. But, like a sweet that’s overstayed its welcome, it seems too tacky, hardening into something utterly indigestible.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask, eying him carefully, fighting down your own building desires.

“Why shouldn’t it be?” he asks, a raised brow lowering in uncertainty. 

You hesitate, unsure how much truth you’re willing to part with. Certainly not, ‘Because I may have accidentally fallen in love with you.’ And you don’t want to shove him out of your life unceremoniously either. Just… to slow down, allow your heart time to adjust– to get over him, if need be.

After a pause that goes on for a second too long, you finally settle on, “It just seems as if we’ve already had plenty of ‘fun’, don’t you think?”

Astarion’s small smirk drops, a dark look entering his eyes as he registers your words, how they directly counter his own from your first night together. How they fall between you with the full weight of rejection. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown shy now, darling?” he says, voice a bit sharper than what you’re used to.

You’d known that trying to slow down wouldn’t be easy, but his downturned lips make you want to take back your words, dive back into the intoxicating miasma of his cold embrace. But you also know that if you don’t stand your ground now, you’re liable to fall too far too fast.

“Not shy per say,” you respond, measuring your words carefully. “Merely wondering if that’s what you want.”

Astarion seems no more placated by these words than your earlier ones. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t want this?”

Fear born of your heart, insecurity born of your nerves, damned logic born of your head– there are really so many reasons he wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want you. But you don’t want to be too transparent, not when this adventure could all be over very soon. You say as much.

“Well, our days could be numbered.” Then your lips continue. “Perhaps there is someone else you would rather be unwinding?” The question slips out of you, an unbidden, unwelcome concern courtesy of the fear building in your chest.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, response quick, tone biting. His lips are pressed in a tight line, the muscles in his neck tense as he clenches his jaw.

Gods, you’d known your heart would lead you astray. Here you are, facing an Astarion unlike any that had made a home in your bedroll. An Astarion made of sharp edges and cutting words. Expression closed, mouth a tight line, you find his change in demeanor aggravating. You bristle at his accusation. “No, Astarion. I don’t want that. If I did, I wouldn’t be here, speaking with you. Though you’re making me regret doing that much now.”

He tilts back at your words, leaning back on the heels of his feet as if thrown off balance. “Then why did you even come over? To reject me then to–to taunt me?”

You had meant to do none of that. Really, you’d only come over out of habit, to see him, to… spend time with him. But it’s hard to say so without being entirely too forthcoming with your feelings. You wish that you could put your feelings into words, however it’s your burden to bear, not his. He has more than enough on his plate between the Absolute and Raphael’s deal. 

So you shake your head at him. “I didn’t mean to reject you, Astarion. I hadn’t come here for sex at all.”

Once more, he asks the question you do not want to answer. “Then why did you even come over?”

You could lie. It’s as easy as breathing for you– it’s how you and Astarion had grown so close so quickly. You should lie, you tell yourself. But one look into his crimson, pleading eyes and the lie dies on your lips.

He looks hurt. So genuinely confused at your presence in front of him, deeply convinced that you could only be here for one thing and one thing only. And you know then that you can’t lie.

“I wanted to see you,” you say, the honest words tightening your throat on their way out, You haven’t told him how you feel, but you may as well have, with the way the words sound utterly, sinfully soft, a secret lost on the cold wind of the Shadow-Cursed night.

“You… wanted to see me?” he repeats, tone losing all of its edge, losing any of its structure at all.

You nod silently, uncertain if more words would help or hurt the situation.

To that, Astarion only blinks. His mouth opens, head tilting in that cautiously inquisitorial way, as he asks, “And then what?”

There was no ‘and then’ in your mind. Merely the need to see him, spend time with him, even after spending an entire dark, dreary day with him. But you suppose he wouldn’t understand that if you said it. So you need to come up with something concrete, a reason to be here beyond words…

“I was wondering if you wanted to share a bedroll tonight. To sleep,” you say, infusing enough confidence in your words that you can hardly note the nerves. You expect Astarion wouldn’t notice them at all. 

His defenses noticeably drop, his shoulders sagging in relief, and a sigh escapes him as he shakes his head at you wryly. “Well, why didn’t you just say so, darling? I understand that not everyone has my stamina, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

You want to roll your eyes, defend your honor as it hangs on by a thread, but you’ve narrowly avoided disaster and you’re not proud enough to ruin that. Instead you play into the role, ignoring the dull twinge that twists through your heart. “I wasn’t sure you would be so magnanimous,” you say, giving him the slightest bow of your head. “I should have known.”

“That you should have,” he says with a breathy laugh and he sounds almost… relieved?

More than anything, you want to ask him, why? Are you relieved that my feelings have stayed silent? That this thing between us remains uncomplicated? That you don’t have to find yourself a new distraction?

But your questions stay just as buried as your feelings do.

Your damnable feelings, which seem to threaten to burst out each time his eyes linger too long, with every touch you weren’t expecting. It must be a talent, holding them in as you do now.

They stay hidden as he extends a hand to you, inviting you into his tent with a warm smile and a, “Shall we?”

You keep them dormant as you follow, tucking your head into the now-familiar red structure, narrowly avoiding the mess he’s left inside. 

They almost slip to the surface as he pulls you down onto his lap, and a heat rises between you as natural as steam from a hot spring.

It’s an invitation, of course. One last effort from Astarion for something more tonight, for you to be won over by his beauty and charm. But there’s nothing to be won over because you are already his.

You wish he could tell, from your drunken declarations, from the way you’ve made a second home in his arms. Maybe he can tell, but refuses to acknowledge it– you could hardly blame him if that were to be the case. But you also can’t blame yourself for barely holding back.

Even now, seated in his lap, staring into his mesmerizing red eyes, you’re not certain you could trust a single word that comes out of your lips. So you throw every word you’ve ever known, could ever know, to the wayside. And simply kiss him.

You press your lips to his slowly, contact feather-light as you balance on his thighs. Bracing yourself with a hand on his chest, you lean in, locking your lips together fully. 

They move together easily, dance partners on a familiar dance floor, to a practiced tune, but when you think of all of the things you wish you could say, an urgency rises in you– a deep-seated need to tell him how you feel, even if only through this.

So you kiss him harder, your hands holding him all the tighter. You kiss him with every word unspoken, every intangible feeling rising in your chest, every single ounce of you that he’s already won, if only he were willing to claim it.

Astarion moves to deepen the kiss, placing a hand on the back of your head, the other on the small of your back, not understanding where your desperation comes from. Misunderstanding your intent altogether. 

Of course, what was I thinking? you wonder to yourself as you pull away, panting lightly. That some magical kiss could make this man realize my feelings, could make him love me back?

But you’re not in some copper novel. This man harbors no hidden feelings for you. Only a deep need to lose himself, and you happen to be the person he’s chosen to do that with.

So, despite the confusion in his face, you crawl off of his lap. Despite the way his hand trails along your side as you lay down, you don’t get back up. You merely say, “It’s getting late, we should get some rest.”

Astarion murmurs his agreement, but you can hear the reluctance in his tone, see the bewildered expression on his face as he lies down, all of his clothing still covering his body. 

You could laugh at the absurdity of it all, how unnerved he is, how deeply your chest aches– gods, this didn’t go well at all. But you don’t laugh. Only a sigh escapes you as you wrap your arms around him, as you press your body to his with all of the affection you cannot contain.

His arms stumble, they falter, but they find their way around you as well. An awkward embrace from a man who has no clue how he’s arrived at this point.

It’s difficult at a moment like this to remember that you shouldn’t love this man. That there are a dozen reasons to tamp down your feelings, a dozen more to run away. This was never supposed to be more than a single night of fun.

But, face tucked into the crook of his neck, hands clutching his loose shirt, nose filled with his carefully curated scent– you can almost pretend that this is real.

[luxlightly]

A handful of "doctor speak" questions off the top of my head and their translations. Not all of these are with the intent of "not affecting your answer by not being clear about what they're asking", but just the effect of a term meaning something totally different to doctors than to the average person. Question: "Do you experience moments of euphoria? Where you feel like you are on top of the world?" - this is usually asked when talking about depression or other mental health issues What they are NOT asking but you probably think they are: "Is your depression so bad you never feel any joy at all or are there time you are very happy?" - answering "yes" because you think that's the question can end up having you put on the wrong meds and struggling for a proper diagnosis for longer. What they ARE asking: "Do you experience manic episodes of extreme happiness, energy, impulsive behaviors, etc that last for more than a day?" - they are trying to determine if you have bipolar, as opposed to just depression. Question: "Do you ever have thoughts of suicide/self harm?" What they are NOT asking: "Is your mental health so bad you have considered harming yourself at any point?" What they ARE asking: "Would you like to go to the mental hospital today?" Ok, I'm being somewhat sarcastic here. They do want to know if you have had suicidal thoughts but unfortunately they're also required to hospitalize you against your will if they have any reason to believe you have suicidal intent. Which is just about the most damaging thing you can do to someone in a delicate mental state and means that this question is another one that you aren't exactly incentivized to answer as asked. Saying "I have at certain points but never had a time frame or plan", regardless of the truth of the statement, is a good answer for getting across that your situation is desperate without making them feel they need to hospitalize you immediately. Question: "Do ibuprofen or other over the counter pain killers work for you?" - When talking about chronic pain. What they are NOT asking: "Do over the counter pain killers have any effect on you? Is it a type of medication that affects your body or are you completely resistant to it?" What they ARE asking: "Is the issue of your pain completely solved by over the counter pain killers and requires no other treatment? Are completely pain free on over the counter pain killers?"

A lot of people answer "yes" because they assume the doctor is trying to figure out what kind of medications do and do not work on them. But it can lead to it basically being put on your file that your chronic pain is fully managed and does not need treatment. Question: "Do you have diarrhea?"

What they are NOT asking (even though literally everyone would assume they were because everyone uses this term this way): "Are you experiencing extremely loose stool and indigestion or urgent bowel moments?" What they ARE asking: "Are you having more than 3 bowel movements a day?" That's right! It has nothing to do with stool consistency or urgency. It's just about frequency. This isn't something that's going to be as damaging to answer wrong as other ones but it's just baffling because it's such a common term that NO ONE uses in the way they are using it when they ask you.

[clowncorz]

a song for you

pairing: captain john price x reader

warnings: alcohol, painful yearning and longing

notes: 'a song for you' by donny hathaway is The Song okay... also this is my first time posting a fic on here... this fic has been out for a while on my ao3 but i need to start posting on tumblr cause this is where the girlies are

        You and Price had worked together here and there, there and here... The job didn’t matter. It never mattered. All that mattered to him was that he was getting paid and he was doing some good in the world. All that mattered to you was that you were with him. That was all that ever mattered to you. He was all that mattered. It was rare when you got to spend time with him outside of work. And even then, all he would talk about was work. You felt broken, in a way. You were split into pieces. One was strictly professional, only interested in getting the job done. Another piece was desperate for the touch of a man. Another, way larger piece, was longing for him. Only him. This larger piece must have been your heart. Your heart ached for him, when you went to sleep at night and when you awoke in the morning. You longed for him. You yearned for him. 

        You decide to take a leap one night. It was all beginning to feel like too much, that pull in your chest. The pull towards him. It was like heartburn. Metaphorically and sometimes it literally felt like indigestion. He’s giving you a ride home when you pop the question. The car is freezing, or maybe not. You’re anxious, you feel like it’s freezing but you know he’s good at keeping his car at a normal temperature. You’re shaking like a dog. He looks over at you for a second, you see out of the corner of your eye. You feel like sinking into your seat. You cut him off before he even gets the chance to ask if you’re alright.

        “John,” it feels strange coming from your mouth. You never call him that. Now that you think of it, you have probably never called him that the entire time you’ve known each other. You muster up the courage to turn and look at him as he’s driving. He’s completely focused on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other hand—the one closest to you—resting on his thigh. He smiles. God, you love his smile. Oh, God, you don’t think you can do this. There’s that feeling again, burning in your chest and in your throat. You feel like you’re gonna hurl. His sweet smile, his eyes crinkle and he turns to you for a second, noticing your serious expression. 

        “Am I in trouble, miss?” Ugh. You can’t help but smile. Your face is burning, you feel like you’re smiling like an idiot. You have to look away. You can’t keep staring at him like this. Your smile falls and you look down at your hands. You feel him nudge your arm gently. “What is it? Something wrong?”

        You shake your head. “No, of course not. I just…” I love you. I need you. I want to be with you. Not a day goes by where I’m not thinking about what it would be like to wake up in your arms. “Do you wanna go for a drink?”

        He chuckles. You swallow so hard that you have to squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Like a child trying to get a pill down. Your face feels so hot, your chest feels hot, your fingertips are tingling. He takes a wrong turn, or… What you think is a wrong turn. But he pulls the car over. As it slows to a stop, you wonder what it would be like if he just took you right there in the backseat. You blink, remembering that this is reality. To your left is a bustling bar. Well, there’s a bustling club. Next to it, is a bar. Where twenty-somethings are being kicked out and tripping over their feet. Before you can realize what’s happening, your door opens. You think, God, I must be dreaming. But no, if it was a dream, he’d hold his hand out for you and oh God, he’s doing it. He holds his hand out, waiting for you to take it. You take too long. 

       “Fine then, have it your way.” He has that little smile painted on his stupid fucking face as he raises his arms in surrender. You huff, climbing out of the car. You feel like you can’t breathe, your body is so warm that you aren’t even phased by the brisk air of the night. He walks ahead of you, making a beeline to the bar. You look over at the club and think about how you should be there, with people your age. But you turn your attention to Price, who is being as gentlemanly as always and holding the door open for you. You can’t help but smile, you follow him into the bar. 

      The music that’s playing is quiet, you immediately recognize that it’s older music. Stuff your parents used to listen to. There’s a man with grey hair whose head is buried into the bar counter, he has a glass of whiskey in his hand, you swear you can hear him snoring. The bar is made up of different types of woods. If you asked someone to picture a bar, this is what it would look like. The way Price interacts with the environment—and the people in it—tells you he’s been here before. More than once. You both pull a seat up at the bar, he orders a beer for himself and an iced tea for you—he knows you don’t drink. Why does he know that? Have you ever told him that? You can’t even remember. You can feel something inside your chest tugging you towards him but you know you can’t get any closer. If you did, you’d be in his arms. God, you’d love to close the gap. You feel like crying. You’ve felt like crying this entire time. For months. His knee is touching yours, his fucking knee is touching yours. You watch him carefully as he takes a drink. Your eyes following his hands wrapped around the glass bottle, your mind wanders. You feel like you suddenly feel like you’ve got superhuman senses—a microscopic droplet of beer dribbles down his chin, through the hair there. He says something, you know that because you’re watching his mouth. You don’t know what he says. You feel something on your knee. His hand. Oh fuck. 

         “Is something bothering you?” Yes. Yes. Fucking yes! You shake your head. Think of something. Quick. Jesus fucking Christ! 

         “Been distracted lately.” You say, looking down. He’s already moved his hand away from your leg. 

          He chuckles again. “Might need something a little stronger than iced tea, hm?” 

          You nod. He says something to the bartender, you don’t bother paying attention. Part of you feels embarrassed. Embarrassed that you got yourself in this situation with your fucking coworker. You’re ashamed to be feeling this way, There’s no way it’d even work. He’s like, twenty years older than you. The bartender places a drink in front of you, you look at Price. 

       “You’ll like it, trust me.” He takes another drink. 

        You take a sip of your drink. He’s right. You were never much of a drinker, so you’re unsure of the customs when it comes to drinking at a bar. But by his reaction when you take a bigger sip, you know you’ve made the wrong move. He laughs, which makes you laugh. Suddenly, you’re at ease. He’s smiling at you. Before you know it, you’ve downed your first drink and you’re back to your simple iced tea—you have a nice buzz going and Price is on his… Well, you’re unsure of the number of beers he’s had because you’ve only been paying attention to his lips as he takes a swig.  

        “Ah… Fuckin’ love this song…” He says. If you were a dog, your ears would perk up as you listen to the song. You’ve heard it before—from your parents. You remember. You watch his reaction, his cheeks are flushed slightly, you know he’s a bit more inebriated than you are. His eyes are closed, he’s really into the song, his fist is clenched slightly as he moves his head. Suddenly, he nods, dropping his hand to the counter. He looks at you and leans in a bit closer. “Dance with me, yeah?” 

        “Okay.” You nod, allowing him to take your hand and drag you to the empty space near the jukebox. You can’t help but giggle as he takes you in his arms and starts to dance with you. Sloppily, but it’s sweet. He holds you delicately and the both of you are smiling brightly as he starts to sing to you. He pulls you closer to him and that tugging in your chest is slack. You let out a sigh of relief. This is what you needed. This is what you’ve been craving. Not just from anyone. Him. This is what you needed with him. 

       You feel a familiar tingling in your sinuses, your tear ducts getting a bit itchy as your head rests on his chest. He’s humming along to the song and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Don’t cry. Do not fucking cry. He starts to caress your hair and you feel a tear slide down your cheek. You listen to his humming through the rumbling in his chest, he’s petting your hair softly. You’re crying. You have never felt such a rush of emotion in your life. He sways with you in his arms, singing a beautiful song to you. A song he loves. He knows you’re crying, you think. That’s why he pulled you in so close. No other reason. It doesn’t matter, though. This is everything you needed. This is all you need. To be his. 

[nordicbananas]

(big wall of text utc)

the gods are real like the greek gods like the ones you learned about but weren't paying attention to well they don't pay attention to you either especially if you're their kid the gods have godly things to do godly places they need to be godly plans they need to make that don't include me the gods are real and they have kids and those kids have issues issues daddy doesn't love me and mommy is a god mommy can't protect me and daddy is a god mommy is too busy and daddy is too busy busy busy busy busy being a god yeah you never listen to me you never listen you never listen to me you never listen oh you never listen to me you never listen but it's time you hear our part of the story it's time you hear our story look I didn't wanna be a half blood I didn't wanna be a hero selling praise being a half blood it's scary and mostly gets you killed in very nasty ways I didn't wanna cause trouble trouble I'm less a player and more the played and honestly id be totally fine if i could make it to the next grade next grade it wasn't dirty socks or my step dad it was danger that i smelled the day it all went down the day I got expelled maybe you don't know what a half blood is because your life is normal and happy and not constantly in danger but my life let me set the scene we were on this freaky field trip freaky trip that's where the story should probably start we were geeking out on ancient greek mythology at the new york metropolitan museum of art we stopped by all the satues and leared about the gods with mr Brunner and my substitute Mrs dodds hadnt done nothing wrong wasnt rude hadnt rebelled on the day it all went down the day i got expelled the greek gods almighty titans of earth sea and sky but even they were children once and they didn't have it easy their father kronos feared the day his children would one day inherit the earth so what did he do anyone anyone he ate them ah thank you Mrs dodds but one child zeus escaped and devised a plan to rescue his brothers and sisters he tricked kronos into eating a rock and what did kronos do anyone any student he vomited them up eh I didn't really get the story at least it wasn't as boring as I feared but is it me or is Greek mythology not deeply weird I didn't wanna pay attention pay attention pay attention now I wish I had taken notes but my focus is in question and the god of indigestion caused a groan from all our throats ew bah dude what was that my best friend was acting strange at which he so excelled the day it all went down the day I got expelled why do you have peanut butter in your hair ask nancy bobofit she's a monster well not literally I think she threw a peanut butter sandwich at you she threw a peanut butter sandwich at you I stopped it with my head grover you're a good friend aw dude I'm your only friend percy jackson I knew something was up when I heard my name get yelled the day it all went down i saw something wrong in mrs dodds' frown the day it all got weird the day i got expelled mr jackson oh mr jackson oh mr jackson please meet me by the sphinx listen if this is about Nancy bobofit she only hates me because I tried to get her to stop wedgie-ing the first graders i have heard much about you percy jackson really that's very dedicated for a substitute kicked out of 5 schools in 6 years one might question your parentage hey don't talk about my mom and your father that's right you don't know who he is ahahaha what's this about anyways hahaha uh Mrs dodds you have something growing from your ah what ho percy mr brunner what am I supposed to do with a pen sword woah

mr brunner Mrs dodds I didn't know what just had happened was that all a creepy crazy dream my teacher was a creature then she vanished to the ether with a demon scream the next thing that I knew i was where detention was held the day it all got real the day I got expelled i tried percy but the headmaster stays firm in his decision you were supposed to stay with the group and this was your final warning but it wasn't my fault it was Mrs dodds she lured me away attacked my and what you saw it did I yes and you gave me that pen only it wasn't a pen it was a sword and what percy we've never had a teacher named Mrs dodds perhaps it's for the best it was only a matter of time before I got kicked out that's not what I was going to you think I'm trouble just like everyone else no but that is to say I can only accept the best from you percy someday you'll understand why im truly sorry yeah well I'm sorry for letting you down maybe he's right you never fit in at this school anyway you're not exactly normal exactly i mean uh I'll see you on the bus so if you think you are a half blood better get running to the exit now cause folks with think you're lying better run and don't start crying cause you're monster chow or stick around and maybe you'll learn from me this ain't odysseus' odyssey so hear me out if you're compelled but nobody listens to me they never listen nobody listens to me they never listen oh dude you got expelled I didn't wanna be a half blood expelled I didn't ask to be a half blood expelled

[bellysoupset]

In your last fic, Luke mentioned that it’s bulking season, so I have an idea pertaining to that. I read somewhere that eating right before going to bed is an effective way of gaining weight, but it can also lead to indigestion. Maybe Luke overeats before going to sleep with Bella. He wakes up the next morning still feeling really full and now he’s nauseous. Maybe he tries to hide it from Bella because she warned him about this happening the night before, but he ends up puking and he has to admit she was right

(I love your writing btw, I’ve fallen in love with all of your characters <3)

"No," Bella shook her head, snatching the banana from his hands, "absolutely not, Lucas."

He let out a whine and stretched on the couch, trapping her with his legs and retrieving the banana, "sorry, babe, I need this one more than you do."

"I don't want your puta banana," Bella scoffed, trying to fight him for it, "I just watched you clear four plates of food, Lucas and a weight gain shake. You're literally so stuffed you're breathing wrong. Give me the fucking-"

"Nope," he unpeeled it, ducking his head and belching, "I'm already behind in my weight plan."

"Your weight plan!?" Bella widened her eyes at him, "Luke, you spent half of yesterday's night feeling sick. Stop this, baby, you've eaten-" she scoffed as he gobbled up the banana in three quick bites, "goddammit, Lucas."

"Don't be mad at me," he whined, rubbing his gorged stomach, "it's part of the game, Bells."

"Forgive me if I don't like seeing you feeling sick," Bella cringed, crossing her arms and sitting as far away from him as she could in the couch.

He opted for not saying anything, since any argument he tried surely would only make Bella more pissed. After a minute of heavy silence she let out a sigh and uncrossed her arms, getting up from the couch and stomping away.

Lucas groaned, sliding down on the couch and resting a hand on his stomach. More than a small part of him agreed with Bella. He loved eating, but this was too much. His previous bulking seasons had been harsh, yes, but at least then he didn't have to gain so much.

Now, after two stomach bugs in a row, appendicitis, and the, frankly offensive, amount of weight he had lost during the break up, this one was proving to be particularly hellish. He had gone down two sizes of jeans.

"Here," Bella said, startling him and Luke raised his eyes, puzzled. He had expected her to be sulking in bed. Instead she was holding a glass of water, an antiacid already fizzling inside of it. She still looked plenty pissed off, but there was concern dancing in her eyes, "and come to bed."

"In a bit, I don't think I should lie down right now," Lucas took the glass of water, but didn't let go of her hand, planting a kiss on her fingertips, "thank you, baby."

She rolled her eyes, annoyed still, and pulled her hand from his grasp, only to comb her fingers through his hair, "you can thank me by taking it easier tomorrow," she said strongly, planting a kiss on top of his head, "I'm going to bed."

He knew she was still annoyed, because otherwise she'd have stuck around.

Lucas let her go, sipping on the fizzy water and trying to work up some satisfying burps to ease the tension in his stomach. Eventually, though, the pressure of his belly pressing down on him and the ache in his throat from the acid reflux, started taking its toll. His eyes dropped and Luke yawned, eyeing the short corridor that led to their bedroom. Bella had left the door open, he could see the television light spilling out, but didn't have the energy to get up.

He ended up falling asleep right there.

Only for his alarm to go off at six AM, a room away from him. He woke up with Bella letting out something he could only classify as a growl, sleepily trying to find his phone to turn the alarm off.

"I got it," Lucas said, voice thick with sleep as he stumbled, drunkenly, into their room and patted the bed to find it. She opened one eye, her curls a lion's mane around her head.

"Turn that fucking thing off, Lucas."

"Sorry, sorry-" he finally retrieved it from the mess of blankets and turned off the alarm. 06H05 AM. Bella let out a heavy sigh, turning on the bed so she was facing away from him, "come to bed."

It was so tempting... But he had gym. And then classes from eight to six PM.

"Sorry, baby," Lucas sighed, crawling on the bed so he could plant a kiss on her cheek. She let out a frustrated huff, but didn't bother saying anything else and he got out of the bed, walking to the bathroom.

Normally by morning his dinner had gone down considerably. He had given up on the "3 AM shake" tactic that most football players subscribed to, after the second night it had him bolting to the bathroom to puke everything up. He couldn't even imagine how Vince managed it.

Today he looked just as bloated as the previous night. Instead of his weight being lower in his torso, his belly was still painfully taut from the top of his stomach onwards, making it look like he was puffing his stomach out. He cringed, poking it lightly and belching when the poke awakened a couple gurgles.

Lucas grimaced as the churning started back up and he slowly peeled off his clothes, forced to pace himself in order to not upset his belly more. He didn't normally shower before gym, only right after, but today if he didn't shower he was going to fall back asleep.

By the time he arrived to the gym that was near campus, Lucas was starting to doubt anything was digesting at all. His stomach was gurgling non stop, but it was still rock hard and he had been forced to wear his biggest pair of track pants, because anything else had felt like he was being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste.

Vince was already in the gym, throwing the cross fit ropes, grey tank top drenched with sweat.

"Morning," Lucas groaned, walking closer as he started, or attempted to, his warm up.

"Morn- Damn, Luke, you good?" Vince raised an eyebrow, "I thought you were against the 3 AM shake-" he eyed Luke's bloated stomach, pushing on the fabric of his gym top.

"I am," Lucas grimaced, "this is all dinner. It's sitting like a brick."

Vince whistled, looking shocked, "did you take any medicine...?"

"Which?" Lucas sat on the ground as he attempted to stretch and touch his toes, "I'm just bloated, I don't have heartburn to take TUMS and pepto is just going to back me up," he rolled his eyes.

Vin shrugged, "I guess," he said in a worried tone, "you're just looking a little pasty, brother."

"Yeah," Lucas agreed even though there was nothing to agree. He finally touched his toes and groaned, letting his head hang in the space between his outstretched arms as the position made his stomach ache fiercely.

There was no way he could manage to train at all. Lucas quickly gave up on the possibility of lifting anything today when even trying to lift a dumbell had him gagging against his hand. He joined the aerobics class, trying to at the very least stay moving. Normally he could do the little old ladies class with his eyes closed, but today even that was kicking his ass.

A woman in her late fifties chuckled as she passed him by once the class was over and he was sprawled on the ground, trying to keep himself from puking, "Lucas, this was sad."

"I know," he groaned, pathetically, "rematch next week, Mrs. Fitz?"

"Uhm," she pretended to think about it, "only if you don't pout when I kick your ass. Have a nice day, Luke-" she waved him goodbye, joining the group of married women who were herded near the door, giggling.

Lucas rolled his eyes, staring at the ceiling, only to have the lights shadowed when Vince leaned over him, "flirting with cougars doesn't count as exercising, Luke," he said cheekily, offering a hand to pull Luke up, "did you at least manage to work up an appetitie for breakfast?"

Lucas reeled at the thought of the greasy, carb loaded breakfast that awaited him, "fuck no," he whined and Vince paid him no mind, squeezing his nape and steering him to the showers.

He felt drunk by the time they entered the large communal bathroom. Without any sense of which way was up, the whole world twirling in rhythm with his guts. Lucas wasn't sure why it the nausea wasn't backing down, it had been hours...

He sat down on the bench, trying to muster up energy to undress and Vince, already under the water and washing his hair, glanced in his direction. He was tall enough that even with the stall closed, he had a clear view of the bathroom, "Luke?"

Lucas groaned, spreading his legs apart and tugging on his sweat drenched top. It was clinging to his belly and it was too much. He grabbed the neckline and tugged on it until he managed to undress it, probably damaging the tanktop.

Now shirtless, he glanced down and let out a whine, getting a clear view of his stomach. It was huge and gurgling fiercely.

"Get in the shower, Luke, you just need to wash the gross feeling away," Vince said, very wisely. Normally it'd be a good advice, but today Lucas thought he was past the "wash the gross away" stage.

He all but crawled to the shower and didn't have any energy to wash himself, instead opting for just staying under the cold spray for as long as he could get away with it. Staring at the swirling water, he worked up a nasty wet belch that had Vince saying "Luke?" in a worried tone.

He braced against the tiled wall with one arm, the other one cradling his stomach and swallowed fiercely, battling the nausea, "I'm fine!" he Lucas yelled back. He was not going to lose that dinner after so many hours feeling like shit.

"I'm fine," he repeated, jaw heavy, lifting his head so he could get a gulp of water and spitting it back out to get rid of the sweet saliva flooding his mouth.

Vin was in a great mood as they walked to the nearest café. A mood Lucas wanted to join in, but he could barely participate in the conversation, his head throbbing with the hours of discomfort.

"Cheer up," Vince rattled him by the shoulders and approaching the barista, "hi Jenny."

Jenny was just seventeen, with a round face and big curls around it. She had a huge crush on Leo, of all people, and Vince loved holding this over his head.

"Hi Vince," she smiled brightly, "hi Lucas..." then she trailed off, glancing past their shoulders in search of Leo. Vince's smile was wolfish with how entertained he was.

"Leo doesn't take up the six AM slot anymore, Jenny," he said, whispering, "he's moved to eight AM, before work."

Her face lit up at the new information, "oh yeah? And do you think he'll still come here without you guys?"

Lucas glared at Vince when he nodded eagerly, clearly trying to get Leo in an awkward situation, "yeah, with his boyfriend," Luke said sourly and Jenny's happy smile fell.

"Ah... He's dating?"

Vince rolled his eyes at Lucas, then smiled sympathetically to Jenny, "for almost a year now, Jen, sorry," he said, as if the teenager had ever had a shot.

She pouted, looking heartbroken.

Vince huffed as they sat outside the cafe, a bunch of pastries piled on his plate, a sad looking croissant before Lucas, "well, there goes the extra caramel drizzle I got, Lucas, thank you very much."

"You're an ass," Lucas scoffed, then tried to nibble on the croissant, only to put it down immediately as his stomach let out an angry gurgle at the prospect of more food. Cold sweat broke over his lips and he groaned, leaning and folding his arms on the table, resting his chin on them, "I feel like crap."

"You look worse," Vince said, still annoyed about the previous interaction and finishing up a blueberry muffin in two bites, "we are so gonna lose this season," he said morosely, picking at the berries of the next muffin, "we don't have Jon or Leo in the team anymore. You're a mess-"

"I'm fine," Lucas scoffed, latching his lips around the straw of his latte and sucking in. Yes, it tasted good, but the sugary beverage was too much. His mouth watered in the worst way possible and forcefully swallowed it down, "I'm fine, I just need to bulk-"

"I am broken," Vince continued, ignoring him, "even with all the physical therapy, my shoulder and ribs hurt like a bitch whenever the temperature drops and my breathing isn't right-"

Lucas' stomach churned with renewed fury as Vince's complaints washed over him. He hated losing, had always hated losing... He ducked his head and let out a sick sounding burp to his lap, before grabbing the drink and squeezing it in his hand, bringing the straw back to his mouth.

"-and it's just a fucking bummer, if the Tigers win again I'm going to personally beat up Tyler-" Vince's paused the ranting, frowning, "Lucas, stop-" he reached over the table to grab the drink, "put down the drink."

"I can do it," Luke slurred, pressing his eyes closed and moving back and out of Vin's reach, "we're not going to lose-"

"We're gonna lose regardless of you hurling all over your shoes or not, give me the fucking- Ah, porca miseria," Vince interrupted himself when Lucas gagged harshly, "Luke, c'mon, man..."

It was too late, though. He tried to swallow the next mouthful of his creamy coffee drink, only for his throat tp refuse to work. Lucas groaned, holding it in his mouth, planting the drink back on the table.

Faintly he could hear Vince was saying something, but Luke wasn't even sure of what to do. He couldn't swallow, at all. His stomach clenched and he slammed a hand over his lips, cheeks puffing out in a cartoonish manner.

He felt his chair be dragged, a feat only Vin could manage and then his big hand came to rest between Lucas' shoulder blades, pushing him to lean forward.

The coffee came up without him even gagging. He coughed, spluttering as the liquid hit the ground and struggled to breathe, trying to keep everything else inside.

"It's fine, Luke," Vince rubbed his back in a soft manner, although he sounded a bit frustrated, "just take a deep breath, you're fine."

"I want to go home," Lucas whined, hugging his sick stomach. He knew there was no way his dinner was going to stay down now that his gag reflex was triggered, so his classes for the day were bust, "Vin-"

"Yeah, alright, man," Vince sighed, helping him up, "you're a silly idiot, you know that?"

Luke let out a whimper, exhausted and sick. His nerves were fried and the bantering was lost on him. Vince drove him home, the car's silence so thick one could cut with a knife and he helped Lucas all the way to the door, knocking on it as he unlocked.

"Bells?" Vince called, about to hang Lucas' car keys, but he shook his head.

"Keep it, otherwise you'll be late for class-"

"Well, I can get a ride back, it's fin-"

"What the fuck is happening here?" Bella scoffed, interrupting them both. She was standing on the doorway to the kitchen, in just her pjs, hair in a ponytail, "why are you back home?"

"Because I threw up"

"Because he's an idiot"

Lucas glared at Vince, falling on the couch, "because I'm too sick for class," he explained and Bella raised a judgmental eyebrow, then glared at Vin herself.

"You," she said in a cold manner, "you've been egging him on with this madness, you ass. Get out of my house."

"Me!" Vince cried out, but there was a hint of humor in his voice as Bella crossed the room to shove him out, "I'm innocent! It's not my fault he's got the stomach of a delicate little baby-"

"Out!" Bella scoffed, shoving his arm a little harder, "and take the stupid protein shakes with you!"

"That's theft-" Vince giggled, barely moving with her shoving. His chuckle got interrupted when Lucas let out a sick sounding burp and groaned "...ohgod" sprinting down the hallway.

Bella cringed, pinching her nose bridge, "get the hell out of here, Vince," she said, then turned around, giving up on shoving him out and following Lucas into the bathroom.

"It's not even nine yet, Luke," Bella groaned, crouching next to him. He was folded over the toilet, resting his cheek on the seat, higyene be damned.

"m'sorry," he groaned, "should've listened-"

"Yeah yeah, you should," she rolled her eyes, cupping his face and pushing the bangs away from his eyes, "whatever did you gorge on this morning?"

"Nothi-" Lucas lurched forward, loudly heaving and bringing up another mouthful of foul vomit. Bella cringed at the smell, hitting the flush, while he hung over the toilet water, groaning and panting.

She sighed, moving forward to hold his forehead and rubbing his back with the other hand, "okay, get it up, Lucas. It's just too much food, you'll feel better soon."

"Don't think so," he scoffed, spitting in the water, "I think-" he belched, leaning his forehead on her palm, "I think I really overdid it."

Bella bit the inside of her cheek with annoyance and concern. She couldn't believe he had pushed himself so badly he was actually sick, after so many days sick already.

"Goddammit, Lucas," she sighed, thumping his back lightly when it sounded like he was choking. He let out a whimper, digging a hand on his stomach.

"Bella, kill me."

"I'm considering it," she teased, planting a kiss on his shoulder, "I'm going to let my team know I'll be offline this morning, give me a second."

Lucas groaned, feeling a whole new shade of shitty as he realized he had interrupted her mid work and braced against the toilet bowl again. Despite the puking, he didn't feel even a little bit better. If anything he felt worse.

He pressed his palm against his stomach and pressed, trying to rub it, only managing to give himself a bruise and cough mercilessly over the bowl.

She returned not even five minutes later, seeming a little more at ease than before and crouched down next to him as Lucas continued to dry heave.

"You're done, Lu," Bella sighed, straightening him up, "you're done."

"No," he shook his head, leaning back against the bathtub and hugging his stomach, "I feel awful, Bell... And I'm not done."

She wrinkled her nose not to say I-told-you-so and flushed the toilet again, grabbing their hand towel and wetting it so she could wipe his mouth and the cold sweat all over him.

"Okay, we're gonna go sit in the living room, alright? This way I can work and stay with you."

"But I'm not do-"

"We'll get you a bucket," Bella said, helping him up with a grunt, "c'mon, big guy-"

It took them a minute, Lucas pausing every other step to gag against his hand, but they made it back to the living room. The front door was shut and Lucas scoffed as he saw his car keys resting on the table.

"Vince is such a proud asshole."

Bella rolled her eyes, helping him lean back against the couch pillows, "pot calling the kettle black here, Lucas," she said, voice traveling from the kitchen. Soon she returned with a million things on her arms: his large water bottle, an empty bucket, a roll of toilet paper, her laptop, her laptop support.

"Ugh, I'm sorry," Lucas sighed, curling up, "I completely ruined your day."

"You didn't ruin it. I can code with one hand, it's just very slow" Bella smiled at him, planting the bowl on his arms and the water bottle on the ground as she fixed her set up, "c'mere, baby."

It didn't matter how bad he felt about interrupting her job, Lucas gratefully slumped against her, resting his head on her lap and sighing in relief when he felt her hand rest on his bloated stomach.

Bella kept rubbing circles on his stomach, then up his chest, stroking his cheek and petting his hair... Then back down, in a gentle rhthym. Lucas let out a heavy sigh, snuggling closer.

"I'm gonna take it easier from now on," he promised, kissing the inside of her wrist when her hand went up to stroke his cheek, absently minded.

Bella sighed, leaning in and planting a kiss on his forehead, "I mean, it just seems counterproductive to try to gain weight if you puke everything you ate," she teased, her breath tickling him and Lucas snorted, moving his face to bury his nose against her pajama's shirt.

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Stomach Troubles

Jaskier sometimes wishes he was a Witcher. Who wouldn't want to basically have superpowers? He admires Geralt's enhanced strength and senses, and his resilience, sturdiness, and overall hardiness.

The man could probably stub his toe on the coffee table and have his toenail hanging on by a scrap of skin and just casually be like "Oh, well f**k. Would you look at that?" as if he were commenting on the weather.

If Jaskier stubbed his toe, it would be game over. That would be it. He'd be on the ground in the fetal position, writing his Will because he was dying.

What Jaskier really admires about Geralt is his constitution. Geralt regularly eats the mystery leftovers that he finds in the back of the fridge that have been hiding there for heaven knows how long.

It still smells good, and it's not all green and runny yet, so..

He could literally eat out of the garbage and be perfectly fine. H*ll, he could probably eat roadkill, maggots and all, and be like food-borne illnesses and parasites? What are those?

If something does manage to upset his stomach, it's usually mild. A rancid fart here and there, maybe a slightly sour stomach. Nothing he can't sleep off.

Jaskier wishes he had a stomach like Geralt's. His diet isn't the best, so he sometimes has to deal with various digestive issues. Most of them are mild issues, like the common upset stomach, acid reflux, and mild cases of needing to make a quick run for the nearest toilet.

He doesn't like to complain and bother his friends, so he tries his best to deal with the problem on his own. Sometimes, he'll ask Yennefer for one of her potions if he starts feeling too much discomfort.

He doesn't have to deal with digestive issues too often, though, because Yennefer is usually the one making their meals. She does it becuase she refuses to allow Jaskier and Geralt to "eat like stoners". Healthy meals are the norm, though she does let them order take away once in a while.

But Jaskier isn't always at home for every meal. He does gigs with his band and sometimes spends days on the road, going from city to city, or he spends a few days at Madeleine's house when they are working on their projects. Those are the times when Jaskier eats whatever the f**k he wants, and often eats too much of it in one go. Most of the time he suffers no ill effects, aside from a little indigestion.

Madeleine wonders how he never seems to have problems until he gets into the car. Then he's ripping a** , and there's no escape. She has the suspicion that he always does it in the car because he knows she can't get out. And it always smells like a dead animal.

Sometimes, he ends up destroying Madeleine's bathroom. And he always seems to run out of toilet paper when it happens. Then he has to yell through the door.

Madeleine pushes the end of a bog roll under the door and lets him unravel it as he needs, or , if she's feeling brave, she'll take a deep breath, yank the door open, toss the bog roll in grenade-style, then slam the door shut before the miasma can leak out.

Yennefer has warned her about not giving him Pepto-Bismol. She said it turns his tongue black, and he thinks it's funny to try to lick her. Yennefer has learned this from experience.

Yennefer has also been the victim of Jaskier's childish sense of humor. The little b**tard will innocently come and sit across her lap on the couch. He'll lean into her and rest his head on her shoulder, the very image of 'I need a cuddle'. He'll snuggle down, and get cozy, and then he'll shift, rip a** on her, and run away cackling while Yennefer chokes on the horrid crud vapors.

It's so rank, she swears she just got pink eye from it.

And it's funny as h*ll when he cracks one in Van Roach with Geralt and Yennefer. The Witcher is always the first one to smell it, and it hits his nose like a f***ing freight train. He's cussing and gagging, and his shoulder is making these tiny, desperate circles as he frantically tries to turn the old-school window crank fast enough to get the window down before he passes out from the smell.

Meanwhile, Yennefer is wondering what the f**k he's doing. And then she's b*tching at him because rolling the window down has done nothing but forcefully circulate the smell and now she can smell it.

Then she's jumping Jaskier's a** for eating whatever the f**k it was that made that cheek flapper smell like maggoty garbage on a hot day. He'll do it in public too.

He'll drop an air biscuit, then just walk away, leaving one of them standing in it.

Once, after eating some really spicy, greasy tacos with Eskel, he went home and asked Geralt to help him find something in the big upstairs closet. They started looking through the storage boxes, and after a few minutes, Jaskier dropped that hydrogen bomb he'd been holding in and slammed the door shut, trapping Geralt in the closet with it.

Yennefer had laughed when she'd been told about it, because well, it hadn't been her stuck in that closet.

She always threatens some creatively unpleasant consequences if Jaskier keeps eating all that sh*t food he likes so much. She constantly reminds him about his acid reflux, and tells him she's not going to just drop everything and come running everytime he eats something he shouldn't have and thinks he's having a heart attack.

Jaskier tries not to eat what results in stomach issues, but sometimes he just can't help it. Some foods are just too tasty to turn down! And when it's all you can eat... Of course he's going to get his money's worth! Consequenes? Meh, he'll worry about those later!

[anouri]

pushing my wet cold snout against ur inbox......hi......asking for (bi)monthly jeggy raising harry headcanons. bats my lashes prettily at u

helloooo how are u? i hope you’re doing okay <3

i’ll preface this by saying my brain is shit rn. thoughts nonexistent. life has scooped out any semblance of neurons that might’ve once resided in my skull and blended them into an indigestible useless soup. so sorry if these don’t hit as much as usual

okay i saw a headcanon somewhere on here (idk where?) about james being colorblind & it made me think about hogwarts house assignments. i don’t have canon familiarity or the energy to look up whether hogwarts notifies parents of which house their kid is in or whether the kid tells the parents themselves—but! pretend that the kid tells the parent themselves. i think it would be so hilarious if harry somehow used james’ colorblindness to temporarily convince him that he was assigned to slytherin instead of gryffindor. & james would try so hard to be supportive i just know it (*through gritted teeth* “oh you’re in slytherin? 😁🙂 i’m proud of you harry! 🙂😃”) but we all know he’d be disappointed on the inside bc as harry grew up james would yell @ reg “see!! our son will be a gryffindor!! 🫵” or some variation of that every time harry did anything even minutely resembling gryffindor-esque behavior. and. so reg got fed up with that (lovingly) & convinced harry to prank his father & told him he’d give him a new broom or something (?) if he was successful in lying to james for one entire semester. obviously they’d make sure to hide any emblems or anything that might destroy the ruse. idk how exactly reg would convince sirius to shut his trap & not ruin it by yapping to james but i’m sure he’d find a way

james & reg would get harry a broom at an egregiously young age. they both care about quidditch and both have a competitive streak so i think they would be like oh he can crawl & sit up? i bet he can fly. they’d add safety measures & shit but literally all their friends are like are y’all sure this is a good idea? & james says “yeah i have to make sure he grows up to be a good chaser” at the same time reg says “yeah i have to make sure he grows up to be a good seeker” and then they stare at each other like this 👁️👁️ but reg wins the staredown obviously and james goes “i meant seeker” and his friends are like 🤨 “the position he’ll end up playing isn’t the point of contention that we’re discussing rn……..” reg would not give a shit what they think but if they’re being too obnoxious he’d play the “oh so u think we’re shit parents then? 😐” & (if barty isn’t there) they’d go “of course not we’d never say that—“ “yeah that’s what i thought. 🤨 harry sweetie it’s time to go flying”

oh and along those lines. james & reg would ‘argue’ who “won” at raising harry & ensuring a good hogwarts experience as in james thinks he won bc harry is a gryffindor but reg thinks he won bc harry is a seeker. the arguing would be like “wow i love that harry followed in my footsteps ☺️☺️ to be a gryffindor—“ “you mean a seeker. like me. 🤨”

that is what i can provide for now,. i wish i had more i can feel some vague thoughts swimming somewhere in my head but yknow… brain. soup..

[zhongster]

I just saw you have kusou saiki as one of your listed characters! I'd love to hear your headcanons if your up to it :D

Sure thing <3

THIS IS KINK CONTENT, DNI IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT

So anyone who’s seen saiki k knows that saiki doesn’t speak

Not verbally anyway

He uses his telepathy to speak directly into peoples’ minds

Because of that I think people around him would be super shocked if they were to hear him burp

Even more so than they would for most people

They aren’t used to him actually making noise or something actually coming out of his mouth

He usually muffles anything that he feels coming up when he’s out in public but he honestly probably couldn’t be bothered when he’s just at home with his parents

So his mom and dad are pretty used to hearing him burp around the house

He only ever excuses himself when his mom scolds him though lol

Despite the fact that he always stifles his burps when he’s at school he still doesn’t even bother to when he has friends over at his house

His main motivation for being as quiet as he is is to avoid drawing attention to himself but that isn’t really an issue in his own house with only his parents/friends (he also probably hopes Teruhashi might think he’s gross and discontinue her crush on him 💀)

But no I feel like the first time they came over he fully belched into his fist and then moved on and it actually made his friends jump (though they weren’t completely sure why)

And then Aren immediately went “DUDE?!?!?!?” And Nendou of course challenged him to a contest to which he immediately refused

I do think he’d be a little embarrassed if his friends had a big reaction but he definitely wouldn’t express that in any way

He’s not suuuuuuper careful about keeping it contained in public, he figures he can just use his abilities to compensate

If he burps in front of his friends at home his mom’ll usually smack his shoulder and go “KU?!!!!”

He lets her of course

As for the quality of his burps

I think his abilities make it to where he’s prone to some pretty bad indigestion

So his burps tend to come out pretty deep and painful sounding

Like waaaaay deeper than you’d expect just by looking at him

Actually, I think the first time Kaido heard him burp he thought it was Nendou

And of course Nendou being Nendou immediately went “NO THAT WAS MY BEST BUDDY SAIKI 😁👍”

His burps do hurt after awhile

They’re pretty strong and his ribs’ll actually be sore if they continue for too long

Sometimes the only thing that makes him feel better is his mom rubbing his back

Despite his blasé attitude towards burping at home he absolutely WILL NOT if his brother is home

He’ll quite literally teleport halfway across the world to burp and then teleport back

Of course Kusuke knows exactly what his little brother’s doing but neither of them ever acknowledges it

[dumb-doll-lips]

Shouldn’t anyone who wants to stick his dick in there be enough of a big boy to handle knowing that every so often some blood comes out of there? I mean sure it could be tmi, if you were like describing in graphic detail how, say, this one clot came out in an inopportune moment, and the mess you had to wipe off the bottom of a public toilet seat, or something. But just the general mention that it is currently happening? Like, if he wants to do anal and you say “not right now because I’m having some indigestion issues”, is that tmi? What does he think the hole he wants to get busy with is for?

That’s my 2c anyway

So like tbh w my question I was just wondering like what’s more standard for a girl to say. To be like hey I’m on my period, here’s what I’d be okay w blah blah blah. Or like I know most my hookups are not a fan of period of sex so like could just be like hey I need to reschedule and maybe be like saying you’re not feeling the best. Like I literally have no sense of how other girls handle it or what others might feel is tmi. And I’ll often feel like I’m not ‘smooth’ about like anything. So idk.

I like do tend to feel like it’s kinda personal telling guys I’m on my period. So it always feels like a little weird to say from that angle. Maybe that has more to do w how I’ve hooked up w some guys who are like fun to fuck but that’s like the extent of any kind of friendship. But then also I guess I just blog about periods now. So idk. But like it can take me a bit to be comfortable w someone so like having an idea of what feels standard can be nice. (Overall tho been lots of feedback from guys saying they’d like prefer they more straightforward being told, so that feels like an answer enough lol)

But like I def get your point. It annoys me when guys act grossed out or anything. Like I can get not being w fan of period sex tho, it’s not my favorite. No one has been like grossed out seeming but I know most aren’t a fan of it. Which I think is why I started feeling confused about what’s good to say. Idk.

[lunarsilkscreen]

Z64, Skulltula, Bosses, the truth of Dark Link

The Golden Skulltulas are never elaborated upon. They're a curse given to a family in Kakariko Town, and unless 100 Golden Skulltulas are defeated, the entire family themselves will also become Skulltula.

Is this the same curse Ganon inflicted on the tribes Hyrule? Did his dark influence turn people--into monsters?

To truly understand this, we need to review the bosses of Z64. To start, lettuce take a look at King Dodongo. He has the face of a Goron, rolls around like a Goron, and eats rock... Like a Goron.

Remember the Skulltulas? Who look and act like humans, but also... Like spiders? This seems too familiar...

But who are the other bosses?

Well Queen Gohma, The game suggests she's related to the mad Deku scrubs somehow... But with how they, the Kokiri, and the Skull Kids are connected but not... It's hard to really nail down.

Barinade seems to literally be a Giant Heart. Jabu Jabu's heart, specifically.

But what if the adult timeline bosses?

Phantom Gannon seems to be a Skull Kid specifically... In fact, the entire dungeon seems to be foreshadowing of the ordeals Link must face.

[Bandit Games] did a video on this idea that the Sister Poe's, were *actually* the sister sages. And part of that video inspired this.

I, on the other hand, think that the poe sisters are ACTUALLY just the Kokiri. And Phantom Gannon, either Skull Kid, or Mido.

Who is Fado? The question always asked about Zelda. It's Meg. But look closer at Meg's face, the spider-y skulltula-y evil-looking smile.

Referring back to the Bandit Games video, if the sisters aren't the sages, then who or what are they depicting? Well... The return to the forest is essentially "returning to your roots". And, knowing Link would possibly return, they set up this first temple, who Saria is the boss of.

Or imprisoned. Or. Phantom Gannon.

There are six sages, the first of which Raru has already met. And in the forest temple are 5 Poe's. The 4 sisters, and P.G. this says two things, one, Link must defeat 5 Temples.

Defeating the boss at the end releases the Sage.

But at the very end, after defeating *all* the shades(phantoms, or sages), you'll need to defeat Gannon.

We see this repeated again with Nabooru, who was imprisoned as an iron knuckle. And then you also need to defeat Twinrova. Or, Elder Gerudo. Potentially also Ganondorf's lesbian Mothers.

The video pointed out one thing I had not considered before. Dark Link is created from Link himself. Meaning; that this boss is indeed Link. Unlike the other Sages however; Link defeats his own shade instead of succumbing.

Speaking of evil children. Morpha, which looks like a Super Metroid power suit upgrade, also looks like something else. A tainted Zora egg. Without the glowy red enemy indicator, it looks exactly like the eggs that Link collects in Majora's Mask.

What is this then?

Gohma:spider-mom, Twinrova:Mother of Demise, Morpha: Ruto Egg.

That leaves two: Impa, and Daruna.

4 sisters and a Brother.

But here's the thing; Gorons all look like males to Hylians and call each other brother and use male pronouns for each other. But Daruna had a child that he named Link

5 sisters.

So that leaves the mini-bosses heretofore uncovered: Lizolfos, Big Octo, Flare Dancer, White Wolfos, Dead Hand, And 4 other Iron Knuckles.

Big Octo was probably what was actually causing Jabu Jabu's indigestion.

Flare Dancer can be only one person: The Scarecrow. He does not appear in the future at all. And, looks like a scarecrow on fire.

Hmm ... What else does this look like? Enemies from the dark world ala A link to the Past. Does that mean the "Dark World" is actually a Dark Future corrupted by Ganon and Demise? Or is it the power of the dark realm sleeping through, and warping people like what happened in Twilight Princess?

What is really upsetting to me however... Is Dead Hand's appearance... Doesn't he look like a salesman of sorts...? An... Unhappy... Mask Salesman?

This is the duality of Link:

Skulltula Slayer, and Skulltula Curse Breaker.

[milksnake-tea]

Blade's outdated brain got me thinking about how he'll go ??? And occasionally judge simple yet delicious modern recipes because he probably thinks that it's impossible to create delicious food/desserts out of simple or few ingredients (wrong). Will probably judge you when he sees not fancy shmancy ingredients when you're preparing the kitchenware and ingredients for cooking.

My good sir, it's the MODERN TIMES AND PEOPLE HAVE EVOLVED TO MAKE GOOD FOOD OUT OF VERY LITTLE INGREDIENTS UNLIKE THE OLD BOOMERS LIKE YOU.

And he'll also do the mom thing when you're cooking or baking which is staring at every single step with them furrowed eyebrows and so on and you're super uncomfy by that.

You prove him wrong when he tastes your cooking/dessert/baked goods though. The downside is that you're getting judged by the others for giving Blade special privileges like Elio (when it's just a one time thing) and Blade following you around when he notices that you bought something for cooking even if it's something simple like oil and seasonings.

NGL. I DONT THINK BLADE REALLY CARES THAT MUCH ABOUT COOKING GOODBYE. or maybe im just dumb on how the old days worked idk but blade to me just feels like he'd be like "if it's edible, ill eat it" and doesn't give a shit about the taste 💀💀💀 like he eats just bc hunger slows him down and is painful to him, taste is more like a luxury if anything. maybe that's why he hangs around u it's bc he hasn't had anything edible in years 😭

I think he'd do the mom thing mainly bc he has ptsd from literally everyone else's cooking (the amount of times he's gotten food poisoning and indigestion from their food is embarrassing) and he doesn't want a repeat of that 😭😭

BUT YKW THO. BLADE PRIVILEGES ARE ALWAYS ACCEPTABLE HE DESERVES IT !!! silver wolf questions why its always the men who get the privileges but shhhhhhh we don't talk about her. elio might get pouty tho if u give taste testing privileges to blade so pick your poison 💪💪

[ciaossu-imagines]

I definitely ran overly long on the last prompt and Tumblr's word limit cut me off! Because of this, I'm going to finish up the prompt here!

Cashew – Okay, I’ll openly admit Cashew’s my favourite of the phone flings! And nobody, not even the creators themselves, will ever convince me this good, bookish boy is not studying Library Sciences to become a librarian! Which is why Librarian by My Morning Jacket is the song I really associate with him.

Boss – I can’t place quite why because by all extents and purposes, his phone fling was the silliest out of all of them, but Boss seems like a really, really stressed guy. Like the kind of guy who is a workaholic and has indigestion from chronic stress but can’t let go of any of it really and can’t seem to ask for help even though it’s obvious he needs it. When I was thinking of songs for him, even though it initially doesn’t seem like it should fit, Help! by The Beatles really kept popping back into my head and that’s the one I decided to go with!

Felix – Felix is the quintessential bad boy that your parents would hate but you just can’t stay away from. Is it any wonder I chose Bad to the Bone by George Thorogood for him?

Reece – As with a lot of the others on the list, gotta pay homage to the obvious inspiration while also trying to fit the character. Couldn’t resist and definitely had to go with the upbeat, energetic, and then strangely mysterious, seductive, and almost dangerous Boom Town Suite from the Doctor Who soundtrack!

Ace – My second favourite baseball boy! This man just…yum, yum, he looks good with that bat in his hand and he’s just got this bright, welcoming demeanor! Is there any doubt I think of the good, old classic Take Me Out to the Ball Game?

Ferris – My poor, poor Ferris. This boy needs a cup of coffee, some Advil, and more than a few days off! He’s definitely stressed out, burning the candle at both ends, and so overworked. He can definitely sympathize with and deeply connects to Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5!

Poe – So, to reference a chat between Poe and Marshmallow, and because, let’s be honest, this little emo boy absolutely adores Marilyn Manson, I had to use Sweet Dreams by Marilyn Manson. Also, fun fact about the writer but this is one of the few songs where I love the cover version more than the original!

Logan – He’d hate it. This song actually, in my headcanon, makes him irrationally angry any time someone so much as hums it. He takes firefighting so seriously, after all. But I definitely think of Burning Down the House by Talking Heads every time Logan shows up on my screen!

Finn – Again, playing into obvious associations and inspirations, but it’s always Song of Storms from Zelda for the cutest Link expy! That and this is a solid song and always pretty enjoyable…nothing amazing, honestly, but solid and that’s about my thoughts on Finn. Oh, and if I remember correctly, can’t you actually make him play this song or something really similar?

Leo – The Cyborg Fights from the One Punch Man Soundtrack, of course! Aside from the obvious Genos inspiration, Leo is a cyborg…and he fights. Pretty damn explanatory, haha!

Seth – Stirling is a devil…literally. That’s what he is, he’s canonically from hell but honestly, a pretty stand up guy. Charming, slightly manipulative, not much in the way of morals, but overall still a damn good guy! I think Sympathy for the Devil from The Rolling Stones definitely sums Seth up pretty nicely (saying this without fully getting him levelled up so I might be proven wrong!)

Jaxon – Going with the very natural, obviously Australian vibes here. This is upbeat enough, has got a sense of adventure to it while still hinting at some melancholic touches so I had to go with Dabo’s Tales of Goapan for Handpan and Didgeridoo! Jaxon is an outdoorsman, an Aussie, and with the fact he’s mourning some things, I do feel this is such a great fit for him.

Drake – Okay, but Drake is at a magic school where the uniforms are very Hogwarts-esque (not to mention the school is actually named Snogwarts). He needs to practice magic, and he’s got this thing with a figure called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Referenced? You’re damn right I can’t help but use a Harry Potter song! In this case, I thought The Dueling Club from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets soundtrack was really the right fit for Drake!

Theo – Theo’s this fun, happy, charismatic gamer boy who’s just super easy to talk to. Gaming is something he’s really into, so I associate him strongly with video game remixes, but particularly the Animal Crossing Title Screen Synthwave Remix!

Basil – Again, playing to theming here. Basil looks a lot like Sherlock Holmes and even has you solve a mystery in his chat with you. He’s a master detective, with sharp analytical skills and keen observational skills. I can’t help but fall into the trap of thinking Sherlock for him, so the song I strongly associate with him is Spark’s Sherlock Holmes!

Fabian – Ariel ain’t got nothing on Fabian! Arrogant and confident that everything under water is so much better than on land, I can’t help but sing the opening notes to Under the Sea from The Little Mermaid soundtrack.

Nico – Nico loves music, especially music you can dance to. A DJ by trade, I definitely think any song that suits him has to be something you could find him playing in the club. I can’t explain exactly why but dubstep is definitely something I associate strongly with the character so that was the direction I went in. Flux Pavilion’s Bass Cannon is the one I settled on – it’s just impossible not to move to!

Mikey – Mikey’s whole shtick is food, and I just couldn’t resist – it’s definitely Weird Al’s Eat It for me!

Alfie Alfalfa – Given the obvious inspiration for the character, the catchy, energetic beat of the song, and how much I think Alfie would love the song, I went with Driving with the Top Down from the Iron Man soundtrack!

Sascha Ton van Twilhaar – Given his princely nature and his clothing and theming, it definitely had to be something with a sort of Persian theming. It had to be slow and sensual and charming so I kind of am heavily leaning towards Babak Afshar’s Ghesseh Dou Mahi for Sascha!

Sven – It’s the Sonic the Hedgehog theme, in particular the Sonic X theme, and we all know why!

Cole – Cole is yandere to the highest degree. He’s more than a little unhinged and so fixated on Marshmallow. It’s confirmed in game he stalks Marshmallow and everyone around them and I definitely have to go with Every Breath You Take by The Police, even if it is super obvious!

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Ok here it is! This might be tmi but I kinda have some IBS stuff going on and every now and then I’ll get these random bouts of really bad stomach cramps and indigestion and nausea if I eat kinda shitty that day and this happened in the dream. But I had the thought of getting ready to go to bed at Sammy’s place after watching a movie and eating snacks and the stomach pains hit you like a truck and you excuse yourself to the bathroom hoping it’ll sort itself out quick. but it’s been a few minutes so he comes in to check on you after he hears you groaning from outside the bathroom and he sees you with the garbage can next to you on the toilet and you’re rubbing your stomach in pain. Once you realize he’s there you tell him to get out cause you look and feel gross and you’re literally shitting your brains out and might barf any second but he comes over to sit against the wall across from you and says he doesn’t mind cause let’s be real you’ve probably watched him puke on himself after drinking too much so how different can this be. He’s just sitting there holding your hair up as you barf and stroking your thigh comfortingly and once you’re done his dog comes in after hearing the commotion and rests her head on your leg to give you love too. And then he says something cute to her like “do you think you can keep momma company for a minute while I go find my heating pad for her angry tummy”? He comes back after setting it up to preheat and you’ve gotten yourself redressed and flushed and stuff so he grabs you some mouthwash and some water and pepto for you to take before picking you up and carrying you into bed and crawling in behind you to spoon and hold the heating pad in place for you and kiss the top of your head till you feel a little better and can fall asleep

Ok whoops that was longer than I thought it would be but I just want cute comforting Sammy and his dog in my life to cuddle me when I feel shitty is that too much to ask for?

No, baby, it is NOT too much to ask for 🥺🥺 I will be writing this now.

My heart is EXPLODING.

[libidomechanica]

I was some huge

A limerick sequence

               1

A dead, looking on the like Orpheus, from every joy. I was some huge    and them as if such    important visits hearer air weary all the be fifty wreaths.

               2

—A Child free or their budding? How very sound her heavy body mind; thy    deemed to speak me do I    dream; their shade went that one and when to the Soul instant leper.

               3

The silk-pillow except the increased. With the dust casually; if I have    to whom the lattering    in scrolls an undoes its play; he thirst. All earthly realm I take.

               4

With Gold and Ruby Girdle his fine Waist. Since beyond aught in these, found    jubilance from ruined in    old Man say I hearts of tree brimm’d in that needs within young mass.

               5

Do! Al redy, sire, quod he, and that has borne a son hae a heart had    one, to that Urne. The Crowne,    and death take thought that I knew the kind the lovely leave to do.

               6

They whole throw much are sweet I feel the pursued by nightly leave take it seem    tame. Dear of the boy’s present    that enchant-ship, or a gold. There are she same gaudy flown?

               7

She slothful times he sameness steps. And the real rain, so vertical it fuses    with silence of the    Poet’s soul, and Queen of light; yet, if ther we nat God displese.

               8

Them scarce knew; both to run likewise throne. But wise Oxenstiern. Some smarts, glad I    be goner? A teeming    water little boy upturn’d Love they talking him anymore.

               9

And I met, which sleeping. More the boat anyhow listence, nor an Indigestion,    cruel; for have the    coursing that sweet my door. And where? Thought would spot, no loved henchman!

               10

Just close merely forsaken up thered, looks when always might now the rose    Aylmer, or breaths. In all    too kind; the streams to myself more freshness! Rents’ simple in shade.

               11

My who are making so fame. His epic satiety with growing brow. Men.    Said, our sleep in that sad?    Grace might years, and that loue deepers, and strength my pregnant leper.

               12

And swell, be it were thing, marble shady bent it want to the nest. I mourn    for their turn out of her    the airy texture complace. Along by such fain hardly souls!

               13

Past hope next to point of this body rocking! On throng at little glisten’d    on the morning. Beneath    her, and her—she could never bled, lo! For it have spread to thee.

               14

And and again I turns, so calculators where must but true deem tame. But    when, hailed by the sang loudly    all they for plough ill spired. I saw something shutterly.

               15

Ere of unions he sands of Nineveh, may God’s glade of Things with chearful    army. All it seem’d a    petty well, started the blossom, to her yet a think the ground.

               16

How cheek when my heard, breast. She steps, with Nature to treat, yet it knew not keep    that some perfumed into    the large, a tale, these was her e’re. And lawless yclept in Vain!

               17

And bear to hunt history of years a rebuke! But still sag toward … this heir—and    Lip for the told, what close,    bound suppose I’ll not my heart. Tis not once a punk; proud fleece mad.

               18

The course, my Mine on me that dead; without to makes or error intend, the    Phrygian kind; I have    gold? An Ocean boy whenceforward there their head of hue, st.

               19

Their everythings of fearfulness, priest didn’t loved the gilding in my verdure    foresaw. Half in mine had    been a foolish godship, O Moon, and woman love is lost live.

               20

Has poured, fast food is fill’d at such a vile perfection, but too entail’d? Had    and keeps into you are    voice. Broken all bathe age, long the winked, seemed not stated in brass.

               21

This in the death is flew from a bell. Standing puzzle? And tears—was desk mere    she spect: their literally    ever-nearing bottom off herself to admired, and round.

               22

Just now Passing, ev’ry grant thou in midnight connects name. From the weak and    what interfered. Where is    budding to be left to double; she was t’other, these our eyes.

               23

Just not like Jewels polite that to fade for after; but confesse; tis but work.    Or heroes as he, came    is Shame, they could almost friend of the Rhine; some laid aside; there.

               24

And pleasure never song of the linger friends fled, but dirty. We’re against    my handless must in the    Book on a harvest. And sanguish was black-eyed embranche cable.

               25

Other, night; tis not because thinking- glass; no ridge his large, loving duct had    sees her solitary    infant it throught. Horse as many shade. The tidings beloved.

               26

As she told the other open eye is present foamy way. And feast way    the left. Pillows shone in    huge vessels lace. I reconciling westerfields, shy to rove!

               27

Beside; furthens, politician trample, but silver calves, and so no    easier embryos into    a foolish. Of passed, upon here made the day, and tossing.

               28

—This Phillis, only which he spots determine, a state world rush’d Clarinda    knew the combine, empty    sparkling stood and enterest you make a brief and others.

               29

By faintly with tended with the air. It was besidents I doubtle say,    Remember door. Kind to    do or henchman, where With the brights thro’; but ‘Damme’s’- the Throne.

               30

Studded dames for I have been a certain to me run, without ask the SATs,    down in her lane, and him.    A spare your pass, fine appear unveil and look so bonfires.

               31

With to lifted; strain in the elm-tree bring what avails that mostly. Sharp Eye    but now we’re all to tell    hint or maladies’ lucubration awaits fire ground support.

               32

Why repose, and never traps forgot. Mean. Likeness, but oh fie on’t! Scarcely    girl, who, seeing without    a flows away, a happy, for behind to her said the push.

               33

Be wish yours; o the deeper? Reconciled the lattering after an Instant    to under a rain,    in like sympathy: twere not Corydon, hailed his clumsy Will!

               34

More soft is a fame on a worse emotion: interlace. Love hearts of death    than I kiddy upon    the door, and sleeps the tell meanwhile which a grey; I fell beat dead?

               35

Now blithe patricacies. Sets ferment, and now I said—indeed; but just painted    the phrase, when idle    look down in life their short were pass erection, and blood and thee.

               36

To changed, and at lead in thy stone, no azure’s tongue: at the moonlight wreathed    him kiss here is a    certain of such when in all love all profitable, do not.

               37

With murderous I leave one all it doth politeness it—and grass, and rumour    and you’ll round! Know very    vulgarit—’ which sublime to huntsman’s she rub—and brough then!

               38

To tell mimicking throught suffering, slowly child-bed. Them pitiles, her weathe    air, and in sleep without    love made a widow. Less rush on young, receipt with thee power?

               39

Generations of there—I do not even seem’d the charmer sun. The Fourthly    parties neck. But what    she wind. Of each the happy when sneer’d; and alone to describe.

               40

Especially ponder that’s o’er them clouts that particle’s easier to    Rome’s a finer moonlights    conspicuous past twig. Till God on the shy Thamis, Hail!

               41

Yet still enchant-ship, but I trust befalls me hid. Scarcely pale Virgin’s minute    slowly from a belt    only a melt into thy parting the Cupid girl with first.

[sgcairo]

Pantalone and Dottore Raise a Kid (The Headcanons)

First of all, this is like making one of those easy bake muffins or something- How hard can it be? Very hard. And these two would not get muffins, but would somehow get cheesecake. Here's your parenting headcanons, straight off the hot fic press:

-Pantalone is the walking credit card. If you think Targagle buying Zhongli anything the Archon touches was bad, wait until you see the predecessor to his antics: Pants. This man will go out of his way to get the finest of any item Babytorre wants. Even if it means spending thousands upon millions of mora. He is willing to go the distance.

-Overall, the two bicker like an old married couple. Sometimes it gets a little physical. Childe once made the mistake of popping in to check on Babytorre then found the two wildly in disarray, Pantalone with the Doctor shoved halfway up the wall, and a sleeping Babytorre in the other room. All while suspiciously close together. He just assumed they were about to get it on and left as speedy as possible.

-Just in general, they have a pact to not argue in front of the child, let alone speak of a past argument while he is in the vicinity. If they're going to fight, they take it outside. Babytorre cannot find out that they really don't like each other all that much. He cannot.

-Babytorre is not allowed to bathe alone, and it's become a habit that someone bathes with him (might as well take out two birds with one stone, it's not like you'll get time to do it later when you have an innocent child always accidentally running into danger all the time). Babytorre really likes having his hair scrubbed, and Pantalone has mastered the art of not getting soap in the child's eyes, all while knocking him out with head pats and scratches for a little while.

-Pantalone had to teach Dottore how to hold children because this man had no clue. At all. Zero. Zilch. Nada. He literally tried to pick up Babytorre by the wrist at one point and got a smack on the head for it. Pantalone had to awkwardly explain that yes, you have to actually support its main flesh vessel so it doesn't get hurt.

-Don't trust either of them to cook. There's a reason the Fatui have a whole fleet of cooks, okay. These two cannot be allowed to make anything other than hot chocolate for this child, or he might just die from indigestion.

-Dottore actually somewhat comes around, after notoriously hating on Babytorre. He finds that the clone is actually very different from him, and is not another disillusioned copy that wants only attention and fame. This leads to a tentative truce. After a while, Dottore considers him more as his "son-ish creature" rather than an annoying reminder.

-Now there's not just one of the Dottore species sneaking into Pantalone's bed in the middle of the night. There's two, and they are both very cold.

-Dottore's feet and hands- scratch that, his whole body is like an ice cube when he sleeps. Or just in general. Pantalone will not hesitate to whack him with a pillow in the middle of the night if Dottore puts his damn cold feet anywhere near him. Babytorre is okay though, his body is too tiny to really be a disturbance and he warms up quick. But Dottore has gotten shoved out of bed several times by a half asleep Pantalone because he's "too cold."

-I refuse to believe that Dottore even has a bed, he just has a fainting couch that he occasionally crashes on in the lab.

-Don't let these two drink together. Pantalone is very big on playing poker and wining, while Dottore keeps trying to convince him to play glorified Russian roulette. So now it's a high stakes poker game, while Babytorre just plays with the extra cards. Luckily no one's died yet.

-Whenever either of the two has a meeting, they just drop Babytorre off with the other. Though Babytorre now has a sectioned off part of Dottore's lab so he doesn't isn't in the way and doesn't get hurt. It's got a bunch of books with pretty pictures and Dottore's past journals to keep him entertained for a little while, and some of the new clones occasionally drop by to hang out with Babytorre. Turns out, their stress levels have decreased from the usual baseline, which is giving Dottore steady progress on his clones and something to look forward to.

-Pantalone can actually sing decently. Dottore might sound like a dying ostrich, but Pantalone actually has a decent singing voice, and Babytorre really likes his lullabies. Even if they are about mass murder or money. He also likes to be held until he falls asleep, which often leads to Pantalone falling asleep with him. Dottore has to begrudgingly tuck the baby in and carry his co-parent to the actual bed, which he's always grumbling about.

-Dottore sometimes takes untimely naps in the lab, and Babytorre just kind of... plops down in his lap and falls asleep too. The other clones are too scared to join in, but they find it kind of cute and terrifying at the same time.

-Dottore got some substances in his eye at some point, and had to remove his mask. Or at least, it was Pantalone telling him to take off his mask so he can take a look at the damage and put some water on it so it wouldn't burn his eye out, while Dottore very strongly protested. In the end, Pantalone won, but on the sole condition that he didn't stare. What Dottore wasn't prepared for was no questions, a quick and easy solution, then Pantalone went back to work as if nothing had happened. The Doctor is still confused about it.

-Once again, Dottore fell asleep in the lab, except this time Babytorre tucked him in under an old blanket and brought him some water for when he got up. While the child required some assistance reaching the water tap, he has many clones that are now his best friends.

-As Harbingers, these two have a lot to worry about already. So Babytorre can sometimes be a little in the way, though they've both agreed that there will be no shouting or being angry at him. He's just trying his best, and they have full permission to body the other if they step out of line in that case. Pantalone is somehow succeeding, Dottore has gotten bodied twice.

-Babytorre usually hides in Pantalone's coat during meetings and plays with the newest puzzle one of the other clones gives him. Either that, or he wanders around until someone either puts him in their coat or lap. He somehow gets passed back to Pantalone or Dottore at the end of the day though.

-Dinner is usually with the other Harbingers anyways, but Pantalone is always wiping Babytorre's face and scolding him about manners, all the while the Doctor is not eating again, which pisses Pantalone off so much. After the public dinner, Pantalone usually has some food brought back to his office so Dottore can eat in peace or so he can coerce at least a few bites into the Doctor before he gets back to work.

-In general, there is no getting a madman on a logical schedule, so Pantalone has to constantly remind Dottore to at least visit Babytorre every once and a while, even if he won't eat or sleep. Which has turned into an excuse to visit and feed the Doctor, make sure he's actually had a wink of sleep in the past week, and knock him out with a pan if necessary. He's come across some pretty hysterical or downright crazy versions of Dottore, but he has yet to voice judgement, instead sitting him down and getting him some water or vodka.

-Pantalone definitely drinks vodka in a mug unironically. He needs it. He also enjoys wine quite a bit, but only after Babytorre has been put down for bed. He sometimes drinks with La Signora and just bitches about his job.

-Babytorre definitely notices that his new "parents" pretending to tolerate each other has gone beyond just tolerating each other. They each give a fuck a little bit. At least that much.

-They would both kill for Babytorre. That's all you need to know on that point.

-Babytorre has favorite books for each of them. Dottore's shrill and bitchy princess voice is for The Princess and the Pea, Pantalone gets Hansel and Grettle because he keeps muttering snide comments at the "stupid children".

-Screeching in Snezhnayan vs cursing up a storm in Liyuen: the ultimate face off.

-When Babytorre has nightmares, Dottore is always there first, surprisingly. In fact, by the time Pantalone gets there, Babytorre is already being awkwardly comforted and held by the Doctor. Despite supposedly not being able to feel any sort of human attachment, Dottore really does seem to at least try. And it usually works, as Babytorre is asleep in his arms in minutes.

-Babytorre loves getting squished in hugs, and it is the only time these two will willingly touch each other in such a way. The only time.

-Pantalone totally kisses Babytorre's cheek before he goes to bed, it's just his thing.

-He also brushes both Babytorre and Dottore's hair before they wind down for sleep, if he can coax the Doctor into relaxing for two minutes. His success varies, but Babytorre usually almost falls asleep by the time his hair is completely untangled. Dottore usually has to be wrangled like a feral cat, but he looks less deranged by the time Pantalone is done with him.

-Dottore and Babytorre definitely have matching coats. This is non-negotiable. But Babytorre has a blue color scheme like Pantalone's.

Babytorre is about five, so... Imagine trying to wrangle a five year old with your nemesis. I'm surprised they've gotten this far, honestly. How has Babytorre survived this with his sanity intact?