#sometimes I wake up feeling like I'm gonna vomit immediately but I just swallow and it goes away

[yoshistory]

I feel like my body's like falling apart

[corneliathegreat]

Stomach's n life presents: 🧴Tummy therapy 🧺

• ◇SM◇

• "Tanya will be right with you, dear"

• The sweet old receptionist said. Seal nodded and took a seat on one of the velvet chairs. Despite him being known for breeze through every embarrassing situation, he was actually kinda nervous. This massage was gonna be on his stomach this time. A stomach full of partly digested food. It was bound to make noise. Hopefully, he can play it off. The door next to the reception desk opened.

• "Seal?"

• A tall blonde woman said. He stood up quickly, nearly falling off his chair. Nerves are messing up his chill persona! He cleared his throat.

• "In the flesh."

• The light haired guy removed his clothes silently, getting lost in his thoughts. Would the massage hurt? Would digestion pick up immediately, and make him use it here? And most importantly, will he finally feel better? He sighed. Who knows? Health stuff never works for him like it does other. This whole thing might just make his eternal stomach ache worse. His belly rumbled, voicing that breakfast was breaking down slowly.

• Grwwwlll...!

• He sighed again. He looked over at the door. What did he have to lose?

• "Tanya will be with you in sec, okay?"

• The blonde from earlier said.

• "So just sit tight."

• Seal smiled and nodded. The moment she left, the assistant snorted. The lady was having alot of trouble not looking at his body. He may not have huge biceps like Hayden or toned abs like Zee, but he has been working out. And apparently it's starting to show.

• Gurrrrglll...grwwlll...!

• Damn.

• He thought. His stomach was getting gurgly again. He hastily rubbed it, hoping to stop it's rebelling.

• "Settle down."

• Urrr...grroolll~!

• Gas boiled up in his gut, making everything else slosh around. Dang, which was it gonna come out of?

• Grrrlll~!

• The top. It's always the top. Saliva began to fill his mouth as stomach rolled aggressively. Seal groaned. Of course, he'd have to throw up here. At this beautiful massage parlour. He has the worst luck sometimes. A burp shook in his chest. And his belly gurgled under his hand. Slowly, the sick traveled up his throat. Welp, adios breakfast.

• "Seal?"

• A woman suddenly entered the room. Suddenly, he forgot all about his situation. (And swallowed the barf) She was short and had curly brown hair. Thick lips too. And the prettiest freckles that reminded him of chocolate chips. She must be Tanya.

• "Are you feeling alright?"

• She took his hand.

• "It's okay it you want to reschedule."

• Reschedule!? Please. Not after seeing her. (And because of up surprise near up-chuck)

• "I'm fine with today."

• He replied smoothly. His guts were still rumbling, but not loud enough to embarrass him. So far, so good.

• "So I heard you been having indigestion."

• He nodded.

• "And your most frequent symptoms are?"

• Most frequent, huh? Well, his stomach had a habit of growling loudly when he's on the phone with a client. And it wakes him up at six to hurl. And after meals, it feels like a pound of modeling clay is in there.

• "Vomiting, but only in the morning."

• Tanya looked up from her clipboard.

• "And that's all? Besides discomfort?"

• He bit the inside of his cheek. He really didn't wanna tell her about the pretty much everyday stomach talking. It's embarrassing.

• GrRRoowlll~!

• The office worker turned red as his belly growled. The masseuse snickered.

• "Audible attempted bowel movement..."

• "Okay!"

• She set her clipboard down.

• "Let's get started, shall we?"

• Seal laid on the counter, as Tanya grabbed her stuff. He felt SO nervous. Nervous cause a pretty woman was about to knead him like dough. And double nervous, cause he didn't know how his stomach would react. It's been pretty spontaneous today. It suddenly rumbled, making him burp in his throat. He's screwed. He turned to see the brunette walking towards him.

• "Ready?"

• He looked down. His belly said don't you dare. He locked eyes with Tanya.

• "Ready I'll ever be."

• It was actually alot more calming than he thought it'd be. She turned on a lofi playlist, and lit a few candles. And asked him about his day! Is he embarrassed about the BLATANT gurgles his stomach has emitted? Yes. But it's totally calmed down. Crazy right? This place is a 2 hour paradise. Suddenly, a phone rang. Tanya leaned down.

• "I gotta take this real quick."

• She whispered. Seal gave a sleepy grunt of acknowledgement and she left the room. He sighed, feeling content. So long, chronic discomfort!

• Rrrrmmbbblll...!

• "Son of a bitch."

• He grumbled. It would start tripping out the moment it wasn't being massaged anymore. He raised up slowly. His guts rumbled loudly, sloshing from the movement.

• RRRGG~! UrRrr~!

• "Geez, your a pain."

• The assistant put his hand on his rumbling stomach. He felt bubbles and his breakfast moving around in there. To think, once this massage is over, he'll never have to worry about this again. No more reflux. No more heaviness. No more nothing. Just a normal guy with a normal stomach.

• Grrr...rRrrr~! Rrrrrr...!

• He twitched and looked down. Don't tell him... Does he to take a sh-

• Grrrrggglll~!

• His belly growled angrily in his hand. Crap! He does! Was this because he didn't blow chunks earlier? Seal looked at the door. What if Tanya comes back and he's not here? Not to mention, it'd super be embarrassing to explain. As he was thinking, his stomach got impatient. And began to cramp up.

• Urrrrrggglll~!

• Oh for the love of- Seal hopped up and snagged on of the robes off the rack. He quickly fastened the ropes around him and sped walked out.

• 15 minutes later

• He trudged back to the room feeling exhausted. All that fuss for nothing. Man, his stomach was sore. Right before he could turn the doorknob, it opened itself. He was face to face with the gorgeous Tanya.

• "Oh, there you are."

• She tugged him inside.

• "Let's continue."

• Seal begrudgingly laid down. He could feel his stomach stirring. She looked back at him.

• "Is something wrong?"

• He shook his head vigorously and forced a laugh.

• "What makes you say that?"

• "You look sad."

• Damn, he does? Well, now that he thought about it, he did feel a little down.

• "Are you worried if this will work?"

• He nodded. (She read his mind) Tanya took his hand.

• "I know it's hard to put your faith in others people. Especially when your stomach's involved. But,"

• She looked into his eyes.

• "I've been doing this for years."

• "I can guarantee you'll be 100% satisfied."

• Seal blushed. That...was super reassuring.

• "Okay?"

• She said. He swallowed.

• "Okay."

• The masseuse smiled and pressed down on his stomach.

• GRRURRRGLLL~!

• "Hush."

• She said, sternly. His belly shut right up. Wow. How did she do that?

• "Thanks for your help, Tanya."

• Seal said, now fully dressed. She smiled, as she washed the oil off her hands.

• "Don't mention it,"

• "I like helping people."

• Now that his intestines are working properly again, he had approximately 20 minutes until he had to empty his guts. So, he had to make this quick and smooth. The assistant strolled over to the masseuse. He cleared his throat.

• "So, are you doing anything later?"

• She turned around.

• "Well, besides more appointments, I'm free."

• He cheered inside his head. Alright! Hopefully, she doesn't have a boyfriend.

• "So does that mean I can take you out tonight?"

• She looked shocked and smiled.

• "I'm sorry but,"

• "But, I'm married."

• And just like that, his good mood was gone. He chuckled awkwardly.

• "Ooh, I'm sorry."

• She smiled.

• "It's alright, I get that alot."

• No wonder. She's pretty AND has a great personality. Wait? Did she think he asked her because of the massage!?

• "I-it's because of your personality, just so you know!"

• He blurted out. This was even more awkward. Tanya, being her sweet self, just snickered and said she knows. After saying goodbyes, he walked out of the room. Her husband's a lucky one. She's quite a catch. He turned the keys in his car and opened the door.

• I wonder if Chantelle is free tonight?

• What? He had to celebrate. He's finally free from indigestion. Or maybe he could call Jen? Nah, she wouldn't go-

• Rrrrrlll...!

• He looked down. His stomach growled once again.

• Grrr...Rrrrggg~!

• The contents is his belly grumbled ferociously as they went down. He sighed as he got back out of his vehicle.

• "You just have to leave with a bang, don't you?"

This one was fun. Seal being a flirt and totally getting rejected made a silly ending. Maybe he'll see Tanya around again. And MAYBE he'll stay indigestion free.

(Credits to @benkeibear. These are wonderful.)

[thesummerfox]

so I have actually two prompts to ask (1) something happens to Karen and she ends up in the hospital (2) anything domestically fluffy PS: I'm sorry if this is to much to ask, so if you want to do just one I'm okay with that 😍💖 (but let it be the first one 😂). And thank you sooo much!!💖💖

Thank you for sending this in, oh my goodness! This has been a blast to write -- I decided to opt for 1 and add in sprinkles of 2, how about that? ;) Also, if this prompt is your jam I’ve got one other (older) fic of mine you might like! Though Death Be More Kind fits this bill perfectly, if you haven’t read it yet. ^^As for your prompt... I hope you’ll enjoy this!

Her ears are still ringing.

She winces at the high-pitched whining tone that has wormed its way into her eardrums. Wonders if the quiet in the room around her is setting it off even further, or if she just permanently suffered some damage to her eardrums from that explosion.

The fact that she’s more concerned about damage to her hearing than about the varying cuts and bruises on her body is probably a testament to how good hospital painkillers can be when they work.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” says a voice somewhere to her right as she cracks one eye open and lets out a groan at the harsh light overhead. There’s something familiar about its mellow-toned sound that’s buried deep in her subconscious. She tries to remember what it is by furrowing her brow and attempting to turn her head. Regrets the decision almost immediately when her stomach rolls uncomfortably and bile rises in the back of her throat. The voice sounds concerned about her wellbeing in the next few seconds. “Try not to move too much, okay?”

“M-Micro?” she breathes, finally remembering the name that eluded her before. Croaks out his name and winces at the rough quality of her own voice. Her throat feels like sandpaper. There’s a burn in it that doesn’t subside even after she swallows half a dozen times. She blinks both eyes open now. “W-what?”

“Well, at least your brain still works,” assesses the man. She thinks she detects a sliver of approval in his tone, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. “Rather a sticky situation you landed in. Big explosion, too. You got lucky.”

“Don’t remember.”

It’s only half a lie. There are some holes where her knowledge of last night is supposed to be. She remembers chasing a story. Remembers something about an arms deal going horribly wrong. Definitely remembers the explosion. Is a little hazy about the details. Certainly doesn’t recall how she wound up with needles in her arm and bandages wrapped around various body parts. Her head is swimming. Her stomach flips a somersault as she moves her eyes slowly to the right.

“You look ridiculous,” she croaks out when she gets her first good look at the man. “Seriously. Did you get dressed in the dark?”

Micro raises his piercing blue eyes from the bag he’s holding for a second to fix her with a half-smile. His curly hair is tucked haphazardly into an oversized beanie, he is wearing two scarves that clash horribly with one another in colour, and Karen is pretty sure that he is the only person in her life who’ll don a kimono and hoodie at the same time. He looks just a little too much on the side of kooky for anyone to take seriously. She supposes that’s the entirety of why he chooses to dress that way. If there’s one thing she’s learned about the man, it’s that he thrives off being underestimated.

There’s something else that’s bugging her.

“How did you..?” She gestures haphazardly, groaning as even the smallest movement makes her muscles ache in protest. “Hospital?”

“I’m listed as your first emergency contact,” he shares conversationally while throwing half the contents of her bedside table into the bag. She blinks at that. Huh. “I’m your doddering older brother, Dan Page. I do not trust medical professionals and it took one of the nurses five minutes to explain to me that you were not going to die.” He smirks at that. “I swiped her keycard and half a dozen pain medications while she was preoccupied.”

It hurts to smile, but Karen can’t help break out into a small grin at that.

“There you go.” Micro sounds almost relieved to see her smile, brittle and more teeth than feeling though it may be, and he pats her hand reassuringly. “Dan Page is here to bail you out.”

She frowns at that. “Bail me out?”

“Well, you’ve only got a concussion and three broken bones and a whole lot of stitches.” He shrugs as if all he’s done is announce the weather. “Nothing some rest back home can’t fix. I’ve commandeered a wheelchair. You’ll be fine.”

“Jesus,” she mutters, then, catching on to all the things Micro is not saying, “he’s going spare, isn’t he?”

Micro has the grace to wince. “Like one of my kids' fucking wind-up toys,” he affirms. “I have half a mind to knock him out and check if there’s some kind of battery removal function.”

The laugh that bubbles up in her belly has her wincing in pain. White-hot agony shoots through her as the laugh escapes her lungs and stabs the air around her haltingly. She hisses as her throat clamps down on the bile that keeps on threatening to spew forth from her. Micro’s cool hand finds her brow seconds later. She moans in contentment as his hand stays on her feverish skin. Closes her eyes and lets the dark sink back in.

*

Karen Page sometimes wonders when exactly her life got to this point. She thinks even her longstanding bad luck charm for trouble must one day just.. run out. It has to. Keeps thinking that maybe it will as she gets older, but is somehow left dodging bullets and running away from danger more often than she can count.

Not that she’ll be doing any running any time soon.

A whimper escapes her as she inhales a little too noisily and her ribcage beats a steady protest against the motion. Oh, she’s going to kill Micro once she’s able to sit up without wanting to vomit. Vows to do some serious damage to the man so he can find out for himself that half the painkillers he swiped from the hospital don’t work well enough. She moans out a curse as the ceiling finally coalesces into a familiar sight. Doesn’t know what exactly she expected from the word ‘home’, but is pretty certain that a dingy basement that somehow always smells like lightning does not fit that bill completely.

“Hey, hey, don’t move.”

“Please tell me this is your bed and not his,” she groans out in reply, praying that she won’t throw up a third time as she shifts into a more comfortable position. “I don’t trust that Micro knows the meaning of the word clean.”

“Oh, he knows,” comes the answering chuckle, “but he likes upsetting you more. He did think it would be smarter to put you on my bed, though, I’ll give him that.”

“He’s weird.” She wrinkles her nose at that. Resigns herself to the pile of pillows and blankets she’s surrounded by. Tries to smile. Almost falters in her bravery. “Thanks.”

“How’re you holding up?” His voice may be gruff, but the gentle hand on her belly and the even gentler hand that brushes her hair back out of her face speak louder than his words. “Micro said you were pretty out of it when he transported you..”

She snorts derisively. “I puked all over him when he picked me up to put me in the wheelchair. I passed out after that.” Heat rises to her cheeks when she remembers Micro’s soft curses and the icky smell in her hair. “When I came to, again, we were in the van and he was hollering ‘I have a permit!’ at some irate hospital security guard who kept repeating he should not park in the ambulance’s spot.” She grins fully now, despite the fact that her face still throbs with pain. “Micro flipping everybody in the vicinity off was something I didn’t know I needed until I got it.”

It’s this that finally draws out a full laugh from Frank Castle, as she knew it would. “I’m pretty certain that permit just said ‘I can do whatever the hell I want’,” remarks the man good-naturedly as he settles down beside her on the bed. “You still queasy?”

“Less. But still.” She wrinkles her nose again. Wonders why her hair smells like bubblegum. “Did you.. uh..” She hedges the words carefully. Doesn’t want to presume. “Did you wash my hair?”

“Yeah. Micro’s idea. Said it’d make you feel better to wake up with clean hair and stuff.” His hand hovers nervously over the blankets she’s buried under. She raises her head slowly. Meets his furtive gaze head-on. “Are you.. uh..?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” She smiles, more real this time, and folds her hand around his own. “I’m sorry I made such a mess of things. Didn’t expect it’d go that badly.”

Frank looks like he swallowed a good-sized chunk of lemon. His breathing goes irregular for a moment, as if he is no longer in the room with her but somewhere else entirely. She curls her fingers around his. Weighs him down and waits him out. When he finally does speak, his voice is scratchy. Rough with disuse, as though he’s only ever said these words in his head before. She senses the need that drives them. The worry. The fear.

“Thought you were.. weren’t gonna make it. Thought that night would be it. I’d never get to..” He lets out a shuddering breath. “You.. uh.. you..”

“I scared you.” Her voice is just as soft as his. “I’m here now. I’m okay. That’s what counts.”

It has to count. They both don’t voice the fear that one day they won’t be in the same place. If there’s one thing her life has taught her, it’s that everything is a fleeting series of moments. She just tries to hold on to the good.

Thinks she succeeds at a part of that when he sweeps his legs up on the bed and comes to lay beside her. Knows she succeeds at some of it when she wakes again to soft lips brushing against her brow and the smell of chicken soup wafting into her nostrils.

In these moments, fleeting in her life as they may be, Karen Page thinks she’s going to be just fine.