#stress induced emeto

[secretobsessionstuff]

nawwwhh man you aint gotta feel bad about not doin sicktember. im bein real here, i thought i was and i did like 3, so i aint either. but if you really do want me to request one, i'd probably do psychogenic fever/stress induced illness with madix bein sickie bc itd relate to me personally the most (bc i always get stress sick and i'd love to see madix sick witb it too (bonis point if dakota take care of him GOD i loved the fic where dakote took care of him))

Hey man, thanks for always being there and loving my fics. I hope you like this one even though it's nearly two fucking years late I swear.

This fic is set in the past when Madix and Dakota are in school together.

CW: Graphic description of vomiting! It's seriously so gross I love it lol.

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

A flood of relieved students rushed past Dakota. He swam against the current looking for Madix among the test-takers. Since it was 2pm, they were no longer test-takers, but the sea of knowledge inside their brains would still be there until the PTSD of organic chemistry was washed away by time. 

Dakota knew how anxious Madix had been for this final. The dreaded Orgo Chem kept his roommate up for the past three nights. It was a known fact that this second-year course was a killer, and Madix’s prof was a distinguished serial killer. Many students retook Orgo in the summer, trying for that passing grade with perhaps a more lenient prof. 

With the hallway now empty—all the students having left—it was easy for Dakota to find Madix. He hadn’t expected his friend to stick around after the final was over, but there he was sitting on the floor by the large windows. Madix looked like a crab, trying to find safety in the shell of his hunched over back. He had his head in his hands and was rubbing his temples as if the trauma of the exam pooled behind his eyes. 

“Hey, how did it go?” It was a very pointless question given that Madix was curled into a question mark. 

“Fuck if I know,” Madix slurred as he slid his hands down his face. “I keep going over every question, doubting my answers.” 

“Well, it’s over now so you don’t need to think about it.” It worried Dakota how glassy and fragile Madix’s eyes looked, like he was about to cry or explode into flames. His cheeks were pale and sunken too. 

“I need a 73 to pass the class.” 

Dakota squinted. “Mmh sounds like you’re still thinking about it.” 

Madix dropped his hands to his side. “I can’t stop. That exam is all I’ve been thinking about for the last week. I haven’t even had time to study for Anatomy tomorrow.”

With a sigh, Dakota sat down on the floor next to his friend. “I brought you something to take your mind off studying.” From behind his back, Dakota revealed a fast-food bag from the student lounge. It was Madix’s favourite place to get comfort food because of the crispy fries, the juicy burger, and the creamy milkshake. Madix didn’t like to indulge that craving too often because it was a greasy cheat meal that often left him feeling bloated, but Dakota thought it would be a nice gesture since Madix had hardly eaten anything leading up to this exam. 

He was about to hand his friend the grease-wrapped gift, but hesitated. The heat coming off Madix’s body was alarming. Dakota could feel the waves just sitting next to him. A quick touch to Madix’s forehead with the back of his hand told Dakota that he’d been neglecting his roommate. 

“Shit, Mads, you’re burning up. I didn’t know you were sick all this time.” 

“I’m not sick.” Like a starving animal, Madix reached for the bag of food, but Dakota held it out of his reach. 

“Bullshit. You can deny it all you want, but your head’s on fire, buddy.” 

“I know.” 

Dakota couldn’t stop his lecture now, as if the two of them hadn’t heard enough lecturing the whole year. “You’re the one in pre-med, you should know—wait what?” 

Madix sighed at the theatrics of his friend. “I’ve had a fever for three days. It’s not going away.” He rubbed his own forehead, feeling the familiar yet puzzling temperature. “I don’t have any other symptoms. I think it’s from stress.” 

It was honestly the oddest feeling. Madix could feel himself cooking from the inside. His cells buzzed like the many diagrams of excited particles when submitted to heat. But there was nothing else to indicate a virus or infection. His throat was fine; his nose was clear. If anything, he was infected with school. Perhaps his nose was clogged with equations and his throat was sore from reciting textbook chapters. 

Dakota looked skeptical. “So, you gave yourself a fever from worrying?” 

“Yes, it’s a medical mystery. They should name a disease after me. Anyway, gimme burger.” Madix reached for the food like a child with grubby fingers. 

Dakota scooted away from his friend, taking the prize with him. “I don’t know, Mads. You really don’t look well. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to eat something so heavy.” 

“Come on. You know I’ve been surviving on goldfish crackers.” It was only now that he could smell the fries and beef that Madix realized how hungry he was. His stomach was aching for something substantial. “Besides, I need the energy to study for Anatomy. It’s tomorrow by the way.” 

“Tomorrow? But you just had orgo.” 

“I have a shit exam schedule this year.” Madix pouted. “Please, Kota. It will make me feel better.” 

Finally, Dakota relented. He had bought it for Madix after all. But now he was worried that it was the exact opposite of what the overworked boy needed. 

He watched Madix stuff his face with his first real meal in 72 hours. The burger disappeared in record time. Fatty juices glistened on Madix’s chin as he dug into the fries. His fingers were coated in grease and fry seasoning by the time he was done. In between each mouthful, he took longs slurps of the Oreo milkshake. 

“You wanna slow down there, bud?” Dakota asked incredulously. There wasn’t much more to eat at this point. 

Madix dragged his sleeve over his mouth and shook his head. “Have to start studying soon.” He swallowed the last bite of fries and sucked at the last remnants of the milkshake. Madix let out a long burp at the end and sighed. 

“I’m not gonna lie, that was impressive.” Dakota couldn’t believe his eyes. “You’re getting more colour in your cheeks.” Maybe the meal really had been a good thing. “But I’m still worried about this voodoo fever though.” 

“It won’t go away until the exams do.” 

‘Then neither will I.” Dakota stood firm in this decision. He wasn’t going to let Madix get burnt out…literally. His hardest exams were done, so he could keep a closer eye on Madix now. “I’ll study with you in the library.” 

“You don’t have to, Kota. I’ll be fine.” 

“I want to.” 

By the tone of Dakota’s voice, Madix could tell that he wasn’t going to win this one. “Fine, but we’re studying in the red zone.” 

“Not the red zone! Anything but that.” 

Madix shrugged. “You’re the one who insisted on babysitting.”

• • •

The red zone was the fourth circle of hell—also known as the library during exam season. 

It was the quietest level of the building, reserved exclusively for students to study in absolute silence. No talking, no phones, you couldn’t even sneeze without getting dirty looks. You could hear a pencil drop and then watch that pencil be escorted out of the red zone. 

As someone with ADHD, Dakota hated the red zone. He much preferred the orange or yellow zone. At least in the orange zone, you could whisper and cough without being shunned. The yellow zone allowed for conversation and anxious tapping. He admitted that the green zone was definitely not ideal for studying. That was the first level of the library were students could openly cry over their exams or practice for their theater final that involved a murder scene. 

Dakota pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from moving on their own. 

Madix on the other hand had no issue keeping his mouth shut. The nausea forced his lips together. 

The fast food was quickly catching up to him, staying true to its name even inside his stomach. It hadn’t taken long before the burger, fries, and milkshake resisted digestion. The meal churned in his belly like a wad of chewing gum. 

The red zone was popular during this time of year, so Madix and Dakota hunted for two chairs next to each other. They found a long table with many students already studying there, but luckily there were two empty spots across from each other. Madix was grateful to be sitting across from Dakota so that he could rub his upset stomach discreetly. 

Unfortunately, the red zone was not a good place to have a gurgly tummy. The girl next to Madix gave him the stink eye when the organ groaned, tossing chewed up cow inside his gut. He felt grease sticking to his throat and hot burps in his chest. He pushed down every belch lest he be escorted out of the level. 

The words of the anatomy textbook swam across the page. Madix felt his fever ignite with a vengeance. Now he was dizzy, disoriented, and disgustingly full. There was heat behind his eyes that turned his vision to soup. Everything he needed to know for the exam was right in front of him in the book, but the letters became alphabet stew on a white background. 

He dared not look up at his friend in fear that Dakota would see right through him. 

Dakota could not study in such an environment, so naturally he saw every twinge of nausea flash across Madix’s expression. His poor friend was not having a good time. Madix’s cheeks were now flushed bright red, and beads of sweat gathered on his brow. 

In the dead quiet of the library, he could hear Madix’s stomach struggle to digest the heavy meal. Dakota kicked himself for giving into Madix’s begging. The nausea was no doubt thwarting his efforts at studying which created a vicious cycle of stress and pain. 

Dakota did a quick doodle in his notebook and passed it to Madix. He was quite proud of his drawing and had to keep in a chuckle. 

Madix frowned at the drawing. Along the top were the words Green Zone Now? Below Dakota’s messy handwriting was a drawing of a green-faced emoji. Its cheeks were ballooned with vomit. It seemed he wasn’t hiding his ailment so well. 

On the same page, Madix wrote back I’m fine. Must study. Madix didn’t think he needed to go to the green zone, despite what his complexion said. He could control his stomach. The food would stay down; it had to. 

Dakota gave Madix a disappointed look when he got the note back. Why must he be so stubborn? Dakota had to drop the matter. Aside from physically picking up his friend, he didn’t see any other way of convincing Madix to take a break for the sake of his health. He wasn’t going to be making any compelling arguments in the red zone. 

Madix tried to ignore his blistering fever and his unhappy guts.

Systemic Anatomy was hard to study for when he was so keenly aware of his digestive system. He imagined partially digested fries mixing with the gastric juices in his belly. His body went through the steps with much difficulty. 

The muscular organ was literally in the process of contracting itself to squeeze all the nutrients out of the fast food. Madix did not like the squeezing. He hugged his aching middle and laid his head on the table in defeat. 

It didn’t seem likely that the food would continue on to his intestines. His stomach couldn’t handle the greasy meal after days of hardly anything to eat. On top of all this, his body was too busy fighting a made-up virus called stress. The stress was very real, but his immune system was taking it too literally. It was no wonder why he couldn’t keep the meal down. 

Madix couldn’t stop the burp from coming up. It burst from his mouth, splashing the back of his throat with acid. The girl next to him shushed him. Her expression was as sour as his stomach. He didn’t have the will to apologize for the noise. Regardless, he wouldn’t have had the chance to say sorry anyway because another burp filled his mouth with sticky saliva. 

Dakota looked up quickly to see Madix hunched over his chair and gagging into his hand. Another sickly belch bubbled up, draining the colour from Madix’s face. 

Before Dakota could do anything, he watched Madix lurch forward with a loud heave. Thick vomit spewed from his mouth and fell onto the table in front of him. The sick quickly spilled onto Madix’s lap. 

“Oh, shit Maddy,” Dakota cooed as he came to his friend’s side. He didn’t bother with the anti-social etiquette of the red zone, not that it mattered though because everyone in their vicinity bolted from the room. No one wanted to risk catching whatever Madix had during their exams. 

Madix coughed and sputtered. Scandalous! He could only moan miserably before the muscles in his belly contracted again, sending up another wave of mushy fries and curdled milkshake. Dark flecks of Oreo and beef dotted the sick. 

“Oh God…” Madix choked out. “I can’t stop.”

Dakota rubbed his friend’s back while trying not to look at the growing pool of vomit that was…everywhere. “It’s okay, buddy. Just let it out.” The same heat from before lived beneath Madix’s skin. Dakota could feel the fever through his clothes. “No one is here. You’re good. Do what you need to do.” 

Madix’s belly gave another deep lurch. The pressure forced the undigested food up his open esophagus. If this wasn’t the best way to study the digestive system, then Madix didn’t know what else to do besides open himself up like a cadaver. 

His fever made the room spin around him. If he had any sort of receptacle, he probably would have missed. Luckily, he had no issue catching his notebook, his lap, and his shoes in the process. 

“Good job,” Dakota encouraged. He patted Madix’s back firmly. “Get it all out. Get that stress out too while you’re at it.” 

Madix had to admit that there was something cathartic about this purge. He felt lighter with each bout that left his body. He gave over to his subconscious mind and let his body do what it needed to do. He probably should have listened to the hunger and sleep cues before this, but he was listening now to the Get Out cues. 

If stressed looked like a melted Oreo milkshake then it was certainly no longer in his body. He tried to imagine the pressure and the expectations and the need for validation leaving his body along with the vomit. 

When Madix caught a break, he couldn’t help but give a chuckle. “This is the red zone. I just puked in the red zone.” 

Dakota laughed with him. “All over it really.” He looked around at the empty room. “You scared everyone away. They must think you have the plague.” 

“I think we’re all infected with it. This pressure—it’s an epidemic, man.” 

“Don’t go turning into a philosopher.” Dakota took a step back from his friend. It wasn’t a good view, but he was happy to see Madix’s shoulders relaxed. “Do you need anything? Water? Sleep?” 

“Both.” Madix slowly stood up from his chair, cringing at the wetness that made his shirt cling to his body. “But I think I better find someone who works here.” Madix rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I should have listened to you, huh?”  

“Let’s discuss my vast amount of wisdom when everything’s cleaned up, shall we?" 

[upsylvtummy]

I've got 3 sickfic ideas, which one would you guys prefer? A more detailed description:

Nico gets carsick during a drive to a match, most team members will be present. The caretakers will be mostly Lucien and maybe Courtney though

Nico manages to dislocate Lucien's shoulder during their first meeting lol Obviously Lucien should head to the doctor, but with his fear it's not really that easy. Stress-induced, vulnerable emeto

It will be the first week of Zheyuan and Dominic being roommates! When they weren't on such bad terms lol Zheyuan will be the sickie since his strawberry allergy will get triggered

[sickonthedancefloor]

Unexpected Dinner Company

Prompt: “And Suga called to ask if I was fine. I replied saying that I’m bored because I’m all alone and then after a while, Suga came to the dormitory with chicken in his hand! I was so touched at the time I fell for him without even realizing it. If I was a girl, I would definitely fall in love!”

That one time Hoseok got stress-induced enteritis and Yoongi took him to the hospital.

Sickie: Hoseok Caretakers: Yoongi Content: fevers, emeto, stomach aches

The music pauses again. Hoseok stands by the sound system in their little practice room, eyes holding an intense stare as he focuses on the device. It was the holidays, but seeing as his family lived so far from Seoul in Gwangju, he had opted to save his parents the train money and just spent the break at their small dorm. It had been rather peaceful, the entire dorm out for the two weeks break, save for the two who stood in the dance room. Originally, it had been only Hoseok, but his hyung—bless his heart, truly—had opted to stay a little later than planned and kept him company.

The other occupant? Yoongi. A year older then Hoseok but with far more wisdom in the industry than Hoseok would have ever guessed, with his sharp understanding of the choreography and his willingness to keep working with him.

“Seok-ah,” Yoongi calls from his spot on the ground. “Seok-ah, you didn’t make a mistake.”

“I did, hyung,” Hoseok insists. He’s breathing heavily, the strain of the practice pressing almost like a weight against his chest. He takes a sip of his water and lets the cool liquid rest in his mouth before swallowing it. But only one sip, he couldn’t weigh himself down with water until he felt like he’d accomplished the scene. Setting the bottle back down, Hoseok turns to the older rapper. “Can we try it again?”

Yoongi nods. “Start it from the end of the verse, we’ll launch into the chorus better.”

Hoseok answers with a nod of his own. He presses the forward button until the MP3 sped up to where they needed, then scurries back into his spot. The music begins again, and right at the beat, both boys jump and launch right into the choreography, checking their motions through the mirror before them. It was an intense song, lots of stomping and harsh moves while being quicker than it needed to be for the lyrics. But it was a cover; the band beforehand had put harsh, fast moves for effect. Their choreographer wanted to see if they could tackle it as rookies. The monthly trainee evaluation for January was delayed for the end of the month because of the holidays, so they had time to nail it. But they were determined to do well, and Yoongi noticed one of their hardest workers was his younger companion. Hoseok had a spirit about him that couldn’t be tampered. Truly, he finds it rather inspiring to work with him, even though the days are long and often tiring.

As the song trails to a stop, both boys just drop to sit on the scuffed wooden floor, breathing heavily as the song began to repeat itself through the speakers from the beginning. They’re already drenched with sweat, muscles burning from the intense movements they’ve been doing. And this is only after Yoongi had joined in; Hoseok, some strange form of early bird, had been to the studio for an hour or two already just dancing around, before he’d come back for breakfast.

Honestly, giving him a key to the dance studio was a bad idea. Hoseok spent half his life in that room, had already spent part of the holiday before Yoongi had even gotten out of bed.

It had been an hour and a half already, nearly two… Honestly, Yoongi wants to pass this evaluation but he wants lunch more. “Come on, Seok-ah, you’ve got this in the bag.”

Hoseok shakes his head, but something just looks off about him. He looks uncomfortable, like something was bothering him, and Yoongi doesn’t think it was just the choreography.

“One more time…”

Yoongi sighs. “I’m tired, Seok-ah… Come on, let’s get food and go home.”

Well, to the dorm. Their home away from home. The dancer affixes Yoongi with a disappointed look, teetering on the edge of asking to stay, but instead he sighs. “Okay. Let’s… let’s do cool-down and go back.”

Yoongi smiles, and he can see the younger one tries to return it. Hoseok slips a hand under his shirt and rubs his stomach; maybe it really is just hunger. Hopping to his feet, Yoongi goes to turn the music off, then heads over to help Hoseok to his feet. He feels his friend’s sweaty hand grip his and yanks him to his feet, only to have Hoseok stumble and tilt on edge. He almost drops to his knees but he catches himself with a step forward, both hands pressed on his thighs to keep him upright.

“Hoseok-ah!?”

“Hyung…” Hoseok grimaces. “Y-yeah?”

He’s sweating, and hard. Now, dancing for nearly four hours will do that to anyone, and there’s always times they find themselves in various states of undress from just dancing or working too hard. But something is definitely off. Hoseok’s breathing is rough, even with their short break.

“C’mon… let’s go sit down.”

Hoseok gives a shaky nod and lets Yoongi lead him to the plastic chairs shoved in the corner, dropping onto one of them. He leans forward again, propping one elbow against his knee, his other hand moving back to his stomach. Yoongi doesn’t sit just yet, instead choosing to bring Hoseok his water bottle, fanning him lightly with his own ballcap. Hoseok mumbles a small thanks, but he stays still and just tries to calm his breathing. He manages to calm down enough, but he looks uncomfortable as he sits back up.

“You okay?”

Hoseok nods. “I think breakfast just didn’t sit too well with me.”

Breakfast? But… all Yoongi could recall seeing him was some egg toast and soup. That usually sat well with everyone. Maybe their eggs were going bad. Yoongi reaches over to ruffle Hoseok’s hair, pointing to his jacket. “Let’s just hurry back. Maybe you just need something good for lunch.”

That earned a smile. “Cooking from hyung? I’m so lucky.”

Yoongi loved that smile. At least Hoseok seemed well enough to keep his spirit. And he immediately launched into a soft whine as he picked at his tee, completely damp with sweat, clinging to his chest. He decides he’s showering first, and honestly, it’s for the better; he smells sweaty. The whole room does, and often. Yoongi turns off the music and plugs in their scented dark light from the corner, hoping to take down some of the smell while they’re gone. Throwing on his cap, he leaves his jacket off and fishes for the keys to drive the two back to the dorm.

~*~

Hoseok still isn’t doing much better. Both are freshly showered and changed, and despite his tanned complexion, Hoseok just looks ashen. He says he’s okay, not one for much complaining (he called it professionalism, Yoongi called it being too brave sometimes), but Yoongi brings him a cup of tea when he notices Hoseok just holding his stomach. He figures it’s cramping, probably from too much work and not enough food, so he returns with a small bowl of seasoned rice and a spoon. Something to snack on while he finished the meat. By the time he finished, he finds the bowl of rice half eaten and Hoseok seems a little more relaxed. Yoongi sighs, placing their small row of banchan down before setting down the meat. He’s brought more rice for the two of them.

The way Hoseok’s eyes light up at the sagymeopsal just makes his day. It isn’t much, but Hoseok looks so happy he goes for a piece first instead of his usual kimchi. “Ahh hyung, this is really good!” he compliments, muffled by the meat.

Yoongi can’t help but grin back, nodding shyly as he waves the compliment off. He grabs his own piece and begins to eat. As dinner passes, Yoongi notices Hoseok seems more lively, definitely less uncomfortable than earlier. He eats a lot too, and both boys find themselves flopped on the floor in the living room, idly watching some reality dating show as they breathe through the food.

“I don’t think I can move to clean all this up,” Hoseok mumbles with a laugh. His hand finds his stomach again, bloated from probably eating so much, and he merely rubs up and down to soothe himself. But he looks happy, relaxed; and that’s all Yoongi really wanted. Perhaps today was just stressful from all the dancing. Yoongi makes a note to lecture him later, probably teasingly, but he figures right now, with how peaceful they both are, he doesn’t need to say anything. The two of them fall asleep right there on the rug, neither waking until one of the managers messaged them both late in the evening to check on them.

~*~

“Bored” with four frowny faces is the only text Yoongi receives when he checks on the dancer. His parents convinced him to come home for at least Christmas, and he agrees, especially seeing as he has some gifts for them that he afforded with his part-time job. Yoongi hasn’t spent a lot of time at home; his parents hadn’t been the most approving of his choice to join Bighit and become a trainee, and while they weren’t actively sabotaging him, it was hard to be around them with questioning remarks on if they’d debut and not have any real answers to give them. But he’s been making leaps and bounds in the rap world; he fought hard enough to make it into Bighit, he really isn’t worried. His parents had, thankfully, decided not to dwell and the few days were rather peaceful.

But every once in a while, his mind had drifted back to Hoseok. Hoseok who dragged himself out of bed early the day after their long studio morning to go right back to dancing, who had been putting on good faces up until it came time for Yoongi to head home. Hoseok who had been randomly spamming the chat just because he didn’t have company in their normally hectic noisy dorm. He must have been sad, spending another holiday up in Seoul instead of Gwangju with his family. But Hoseok said it was worth it; he didn’t want his parents to foot more roundtrip fare to get him home for Christmas when he’d only be gone for a few days, and his sister also hadn’t gone home; they could just video chat, he told them.

So Yoongi had decided that morning that he was leaving early. He tells his parents goodbye, kicks his brother playfully, and takes off back to the dorms.

As a bonus, with some extra cash his parents give him, he buys fried chicken. It’s a holiday tradition somewhere, he’s sure. Japan, he thinks? He’s not sure what the origin is but he knows it probably has to do with America. Whatever it is, he’s sure it’ll still be enjoyable.

Opening the door, Yoongi quickly shouts that he’s back, and finds Hoseok laying back on the floor in the living room watching a drama on their television, hand lazily fiddling with a tea bottle. The younger one grins at his arrival, attention immediately shifted. “Hyung! You’re back! Hey!”

Hoseok honestly doesn’t look good at all. Once again, just like he’d caught him in the practice room, he was pale and a little sweaty again, with a hand pressed against his stomach. Maybe it was just hunger again, but given how he was so pale… Yoongi was starting to doubt it.

“Brought chicken too.” Yoongi puts on a smile and sets it down on the table in front of him.

Hoseok’s eyes widen. “You came back early and brought food? Hyung, you must be an angel.”

The two laugh, and Hoseok clears a space on the table and hurries to his feet. He pauses, trying not to stagger; Yoongi’s quick to grab his arm to support him. “Hoseok-ah?”

The younger dancer grimaces, eyes shut as he takes a deep breath. He releases it with a shudder, his hand reaching up to rub at his head. “Sorry, hyung… I got dizzy for a second.”

“You don’t look well… here, sit. Let me get it for you.” Yoongi helps Hoseok back to the floor cushion, handing him his tea again, unscrewing the bottle for him. The bottle is still mostly full. “Drink some, okay?”

Hoseok nods, and goes to sip as Yoongi to the kitchen to grab a drink for himself. There’s not much in their little fridge, but he finds two colas and brings them out. It’s a special occasion; surely, whichever trainee had this will understand. He’s not sure if Hoseok will be up for the carbonation, but he wants to keep the offer there. As he returns, he finds Hoseok leaning forward, rubbing his stomach again.

Yoongi sighs. He’s glad he came when he did; Hoseok doesn’t need to be alone like this. They wait until Hoseok seems to feel a little better, whining as he sniffs the air. “Hyung… the chicken smells so good.”

“But do you think you can eat it?” Yoongi moves his hand to rub at the back of Hoseok’s neck, smiling as he watches his dongsaeng’s shoulders droop. “Is your stomach bothering you?”

Hoseok sighs. “A little, yeah…” But both boys knew Hoseok was lying; he could barely tell a convincing lie on a good day, but he looks downright uncomfortable to be where he is. Still, to prove himself, he reaches over and pulls off a piece and takes a bite. Yoongi watches him closely as Hoseok chews and swallows… and immediately leans forward.

“A lot… come on, Seok-ah, can you stand?”

“I get dizzy… I’m already a little dizzy.”

Shit. Hoseok isn’t a short kid, either. Doesn’t weigh much thankfully, but it’s all muscle. Hoseok’s always been lean limbs and slim muscles, but that doesn’t make him the lightest. Yoongi isn’t going to let them stay there though, not while Hoseok seems to be struggling so hard. He closes the travel box, sure they can put it up later, and goes to help Hoseok to his feet. And Hoseok sways. His skin goes ashen almost immediately, his eyes unfocused, and he knees seem to refrain from shaking by sheer force of will. For a solid second, Yoongi doesn’t think he can catch him, but Hoseok stumbles a step forward just in time.

The young dancer sighs. “Sorry, hyung… I kind of want to sit down.”

Yoongi just moves to Hoseok’s side. “We’re gonna need to take you to a hospital. There’s no way you can do anything like this.”

What worries Yoongi next is the immediate lack of protesting that came after. Hoseok mulls over the idea, as another grimace of pain washes over his face, and Yoongi just wraps an arm around his waist. He really does not seem to be feeling good.

“Come on, Seok-ah, let’s go.”

It takes a little longer than Yoongi would like to walk Hoseok downstairs from their dorm, but Hoseok goes without complaint. Besides a hitch of breath or a pause to wince, he doesn’t utter a single complaint. But Yoongi can feel how strained Hoseok’s small answers to his questions are, the slight tremble from under his arms. Hoseok’s skin feels so hot under his touch. When they make it downstairs, Hoseok takes to sitting on the side stairs while Yoongi orders a taxi. They’d considered the subways for all of one minute before Hoseok’s footing had slipped, and Yoongi opted against it. A taxi ride wouldn’t be awful on the finances; Yoongi’s sure replacing the sodas will cost more.

~*~

“That was… the worst taxi ride,” Hoseok grumbles as he leans heavily on Yoongi. Yoongi can’t disagree; the drive was rough, the traffic stop-and-go, and he’d taken to holding Hoseok’s hand to keep the younger dancer calm. But Hoseok’s face had taken on a greenish tint, and they weren’t even in the doorway before Hoseok pushes away from Yoongi.

“Seok-ah—”

And… splat. Hoseok leans forward by the trash can at the entrance, eyes screwed shut as he vomits again. Yoongi sighs, moving over to hold him up by his shoulders. He rubs his back with his other arm, trying to keep him calm.

“It’s okay, Seok-ah, let it out. I know it hurts.”

His hand rubs slow circles on his back, grimacing as he feels Hoseok’s back tense as he vomits another mouthful. He’s feeling warmer, and Hoseok can feel the sweat soaking through his shirt. He’s shaking completely now, one hand holding onto the pillar in the front, the other gripping his knee with white knuckles. He looks so weak, so strange, and Yoongi hates it. Hoseok, to Yoongi, has always been a strong young man; he’s always been up to every challenge, takes every job seriously, tackles every challenge he’s faced with his chin up and head held high. He’d dealt with feeling this poorly without complaining about anything. It startles Yoongi to know his friend has been suffering without asking for help at all.

But hyung’s here now. Yoongi’s not going to let him suffer alone.

Once Hoseok finishes, Yoongi’s arm around his shoulders tightens to help him up before he stumbles. Hoseok feels unsteady on his feet and he looks completely grey, and exhausted.

“Think you can make it inside?” Yoongi asks softly. “Or do you want to wait here and I’ll get a nurse—”

The automatic doors open, and a nurse hurries out with a handful of tissues. He hurries over to the pair. “Is he okay? Drunk?”

Hoseok accepts the napkins with a small mumble of thanks, wiping his mouth with the paper.

Yoongi decides to take charge talking to the nurse. He swallows his annoyance that every adult thinks the youth are nothing but trouble, and figures being direct is the best way to solve the issue.

“He’s sick. He’s having really bad stomach pain and a fever now.” Yoongi’s frown grew. “The taxi ride up here was really bad.”

The nurse, thankfully, nods and looks at Hoseok, taking in an initial evaluation. Hoseok is still unsteady but Yoongi’s holding him closely, and the man holds up one finger and hurries inside. He comes back out with a wheelchair. “Come on, let your friend sit here, we can go inside and get him signed in.”

That brings a smile to Yoongi’s lips. Finally, Hoseok will get some help.

~*~

Curled on his side in the hospital’s open room, Hoseok yawns as he looks at Yoongi. “Sorry, hyung, I know this was a lot.”

Yoongi just reaches over to stroke his hair. “That’s stupid, don’t apologize for being sick. Do they need to give you more painkillers?”

Hoseok gives a rough laugh. Through an IV, he’s received some fantastic painkillers, antinausea medication, and antibiotics, and he is completely relaxed under the thick blanket. The hospital is warm, but the medication working through his veins felt cold enough to give him a chill. While he was being examined, Yoongi had called their manager to give him a heads up and the staff promised to reimburse Yoongi for all of his efforts. Feeling a little more appreciated by the staff, albeit a little bashful for the compliments, he’d hurried off the call to return to Hoseok’s bedside.

Hoseok is already looking a little better. He’s not as pale, his cheeks finally taking on a rosier tint rather than the ashen grey he had earlier. He also didn’t look as stressed, but his eyes blink almost more rapidly as he looks at the older rapper. Yoongi reaches a hand over, stroking Hoseok’s hair back.

“Yoongi-hyung?”

“Hm?” Yoongi smiles down, long fingers raking across Hoseok’s scalp. He watches as the younger dancer’s eyelids grow heavy, another yawn escaping; Hoseok brings the corner of the blanket to his mouth and yawns into it again. As he begins to drift off, he mumbles a soft but solid, “Thank you, hyung. You’re the best.”

That startles Yoongi. Looking away as his neck begins to feel hot, he just shrugs. “You’d do the same for me, so… It’s nothin’.”

The smile on Hoseok’s face is the only indicator he’s heard, but neither of them say more.

“Sleep well, Hob-ah.”

[butterfliesornauseous]

Listening to a tummy growling and not being able to tell if it’s hunger or nausea <3

I actually wrote this months ago when I couldn’t tell if I was in a hunger or emeto mood so I made this but felt too shy and embarrassed to post it but I guess it has a tiny bit (barely) similar vibe to the last couple of anons I posted so 

(Warning for nausea , hunger and mentions of skipping meals) 

A wasn’t expecting to hear B was heading off to bed so early, they hadn’t even been home for an hour and said practically nothing in said time. B had just returned from a long (probably used all the hot water up) shower with skin still tinted rosey from the water and their hair dripping onto the oversized shirt/hoodie that belonged to A. A asked worriedly if they were okay but B shrugged it off with a yawn claiming to be “Just tied.”

An hour passes, A themselves, is ready to call it a night after feeling lonely without B. When climbing into their shared bed they cannot help but smile at their s/o’s cute pout in their deep sleep and decides to snuggle into B’s tummy after having seen part of their shirt roll up (plus B normally sleeps on A’s stomach, maybe they should get to see what all the fuss is.) A flutters their eyes shut with content within the silence, just to shoot open again as a sharp sounding gurgle comes from B’s stomach, quickly followed by a smaller but powerful one that A can feel against their cheek. 

B squirms slightly in their sleep, their once peacefully pout has turned into a face of pain while their stomach starts to grumble again loudly. 

Thinking back to it now, B was indeed acting suspiciously the whole night.  A was sure they saw B touch their stomach a couple of times when they said they were going to be going to bed earlier and now that the added red tint from the shower has worn off, their skin looks much more ashy and worn out from the little light in the bedroom. Though A can definitely tell from the sounds that this isn’t digestion and something is clearly bothering their tummy, however from the variations of groans and growls, A can’t tell if it’s upset is induced by hunger or nausea.

A knows that B had been busy studying the last couple of days and when B is studying, breaks for them are extremely limited and eating anything (no matter how worried A gets about it) is pretty much avoid until after B has completed the test they were studying for. Maybe A should get up and force them to at least eat something small but the next gurgle that quietly churns from their stomach sounds wetter and sickly then a hunger noise and now A wonders if maybe B actually went and bought something to eat before coming home and didn’t realise it was bad, and now the food is swirling badly in their belly (or stress always triggers poor B’s tummy into a frenzy, so it would make sense if their stomach is feeling iffy.) Now A is concerned if maybe a bucket and heating pad would be more appropriate. 

Another quick but decently loud rumble, this time contradicts the wet gurgle and A sits up to place their palm onto B’s stomach. They rub gentle circles onto B’s stomach and feel frequent ripples across B’s tummy, but non feel like the normal deeps pangs of hunger or the twisting and churning of nausea. At least if they can’t tell what is the issue with their partner’s poor belly, they can try to do something soothing for them. 

B slightly shifts in their sleep again, they make a small noise that sounds more content than in pain and A thinks maybe the rubs are helping in someway though it doesn’t last long when the groans from B’s stomach start having smaller breaks and their face scrunches again.

They spend the next couple of minutes rubbing their stomach and trying to decipher what sounds B’s tummy is trying to tell, so they can properly care for them (because if they were to make food when B is queasy that would probably throw them over the edge but if they are hungry and got given a bucket who knows how B would react.) Still through the next couple of minutes of rubbing B’s stomach and occasionally hovering their head over it to try see if the quieter gurgles give anything away, all they can ponder is ‘Did B go to bed early because their tummy wasn’t feeling well, and they want to sleep it off or because they were so famished they didn’t have the energy to be up any longer?’ Because B’s stomach isn’t giving any clue, and they're too worried to go back to bed.

B suddenly sits up while clutching their stomach. They have tears in their eyes and their stomach gives one final long growl. Did their tummy wake them up because it can’t go on any longer without something to eat, and it won’t let B rest till they are fed or because their tummy can’t handle having what ever is making it churn so much in it anymore and B has 5 seconds before it starts sending it contents up and onto the bed? 

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Birdie’s Library of Sick

Here is a complete list of my OC fics. Regularly updated as I post.

List is organized alphabetically by AU, then chronologically by character timeline.  Fics marked *** are my favorite of the things I’ve written. My greatest hits, if you will. Those are the ones I come back to read time and again when I’m in certain moods. Please check those out if you haven’t before, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Also, I have even longer stuff posted on AO3 under the same name (PerfectPaperBluebirds) so head on over there for even more sickfic goodness.

My ask box is always open for prompts! I’m always up to try something new, so if there's any aesthetics you want to see, please send them my way :)

Fandom Library

Historical/Fantasy OCs

Cowboy ‘Verse:

***(SKT ‘22) Home remedy

(SKT ‘23) Persistent Fever 

DnD OCs (Filius, Gundor, Kandry, Lorellyn):

***(SKT ‘21) Blankets

(SKT ‘22) ‘Do You Know How To Take Care of a Sick Person?’ 

***(SKT ‘22) Sleepless Night/s 

(SKT ‘23) Quest for a Cure 

Navy Man OCs (Capt. Michael Ingram):

Tidings of Comfort (Holiday fic 2021) [emeto]

(SKT ‘22) Homesick 

(SKT ‘22) ‘I Might Be A Teeny Tiny Bit Sick, But It’s Fine.’ (Follow-up to Tidings of Comfort)

(SKT ‘23) Sick in an Inconvenient Place 

Roaring Twenties ‘Verse (Jesse Hamilton):

(SKT ‘21) Missing Out (Roaring Twenties, Holiday fic) [emeto]

(SKT ‘23) Terms of Endearment/Nicknames

Plague Doctor OCs (Alastair and Eliza):

***The Doctor Is In... the Inn 

(SKT ‘22) Soft Pajamas

(SKT ‘23) Confused/Disoriented 

Science Lovers OCs (Peter and Violet):

***Under the Willow 

(SKT ‘22) Sunburn

(SKT ‘23) Old Wives Tale

Sorcerer ‘Verse OCs (Elmrador Renata and Co.):

Spells and Sneezes

Powers and Flowers 

(SKT ‘22) ‘Blow Your Nose’ 

***Curses and Comforts (Follow-up to Powers and Flowers )

(SKT ‘23) Magical Remedy/Healing Potion [emeto]

Sprite Kingdom (Aleander the Healer):

Icing and Frosting (Sprite Kingdom)

(SKT ‘23) Side Effects/Adverse Reaction 

Vicar ‘Verse OCs (Nicholas and Lydia Lennox):

***A Virus for the Vicar

(SKT ‘22) ‘Get Back in Bed!’ 

(SKT ‘23) Anxious Stomach [emeto]

Wagon Train OCs (Dan and Ella):

Here Comes the Sun 

The Weather Outside Is Frightful

(SKT ‘23) Uncooperative Patient 

Historical/Fantasy OC one-offs (for now):

An Artist’s Study on Illness (Italian Artists)

To the Place I Belong (Vampire ‘Verse, Halloween 2022)

Modern OCs

CottageVersity OCs (Tenbusch family):

***Mess Is Mine (Thad & JB, JB sick)

***(SKT ‘22) Psychogenic Fever/Stress Induced Illness (Thad & JB, JB sick)

(SKT ‘22) Cold Sweat (Theo sick)

[CW: Homophobia] The Last Christmas (All, Thad & JB sick)

[the Meet-cute!] Pretty Girls and Starting Conversations (Thalia & Padma, Thalia sick)

(SKT ‘23) “The only place we’re going is the pharmacy.” (Thalia sick)

Holding Onto Me So Tight (Thad & JB, both sick) 

Sick of It (All, Theo/JB/Padma sick)

***Miserable At Best  (All sick)

(SKT ‘22) Cuddling on the Couch (Thalia & Padma, Padma sick)

Priest ‘Verse (Father Luc and Flora):

I Can Go No Longer (Sick priest)

Cheer My Wearied Spirit (Sick Flora)

***(SKT ‘22) Tickle in the Throat [Sick priest] (The Beginning Pt. 1)

Feel My Temperature Rising [Sick Priest] (The Beginning Pt. 2)

(SKT ‘23) Curled Up With a Pet (Sick priest) 

The In-Between (no one sick//backstory)

Rockstar ‘Verse (Vic and Addison):

(SKT ‘23) “You’re a jerk when you’re sick.”

***(SKT ‘22) Syncope/Fainting 

Shane and Molly (Shmolly):

[the Meet-cute!] Let Your Heart Be Light (Sick Shane)

Never Been (Shane still sick)

(SKT ‘22) ‘I Need You To Pull Over!’ (Sick Shane) [emeto]

***(SKT ‘21) Doctor’s Visit/Check Up (Sick Shane)

Under the Weather Pt. 1 (Sick Shane)

Under the Weather Pt. 2 (Both Sick)

***(SKT ‘22) Sick On Vacation (Sick Molly)

***Without You (Sick Shane)

We’ll Share A Cup of Kindness Yet (Both Sick)

***Never Gonna Leave This Bed (Both Sick)

(SKT ‘23) “I could really use a hug right about now.” (Sick Shane) 

Modern OC one-offs (for now):

Hospitality (Banquets and Events OCs)

Book Club (Business Boutique OCs)

Domestic Drabble #97 (In F [lu] Major)

[whats-k-popping]

Cravings

Summary: The pressure makes him gag, dry and grating against his already irritated throat. His back is fully arched in pain, tears mixing in with his saliva puddles on the floor. All the force eventually expels thin streams of bile into the mix as well. In these moments of sheer agony, Seokjin can only think about how Yoongi will be stuck cleaning the mess.

Pairing: YoonJin - Married AU. Pregnant Seokjin.

Words: 3969

Warnings: Emeto || MPreg || Romantic Relationship between Members || Graphic Descriptions of Illness || Mentions of Shame/Guilt || Morning Sickness

Inspiration: if you're accepting request, can i request something? a mpreg story for yoonjin with seokjin experiencing morning sickness .. stuff like that. i dont have any specific scenes in mind,i just love to read smth about that !

Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this work to the anon who made the request. Thank you so so much for the request. I meant to just write a scene or two and it turned into this. I'll admit, I got a bit carried away with it. I loved building and writing their relationship so much, I apologize if it takes away from the emeto experience. If you just want to read the emeto portion, skip to the second cut and read from there. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!! <3

"What do you want for dinner, Jagiya?" Yoongi asks, one hand scrolling through delivery menus on his phone and the other rubbing his husband's noticeably round bump. The local news is playing on the TV, but neither one is paying attention. Seokjin's been resting on Yoongi’s lap all afternoon. The younger's legs have been asleep for probably too long, he shakes them every so often just to make sure they still work.

Seokjin turns toward the question. He shoves his face into Yoongi's stomach, batting at the drawstrings of the younger's hoodie. "Just get whatever you want," He says, but Yoongi can tell by the tone it's not what he means. 

Yoongi wonders if Seokjin's upset with him. He knows he didn't do anything wrong, but those hormonal mood swings have been kicking Seokjin's ass since he entered the second trimester, and Yoongi gets the short end of the stick each time. He readies himself for another pointless and irrelevant lecture. He can't in good conscience be mad about it. The man he loves most in the world is carrying his first child. Literally, fifty percent of Yoongi is living inside of the older man. And Seokjin’s taking such good care to ensure the health of their first born. Yoongi would be a fool to let a few hormone-fueled lectures sway his admiration.

Still, he wants to tread lightly. Because even though Yoongi doesn't care about the mood swings and the tiny tantrums, Seokjin does. Despite how many times Yoongi assures him that he understands and that he's not upset, Seokjin always feels so guilty afterwards. Guilty to the point that he weeps and sobs and convinces himself that he's a terrible husband and he's sure he's going to be a terrible father. It's just another hormone induced mood swing, Yoongi knows, but that kind of stress is not good for the baby. So Yoongi aims to avoid it whenever possible. 

Yoongi moves his hand away from Seokjin's stomach and into his hair, threading gently through the tangled strands. "You don't have a preference?" He asks again, gently with no hints of judgment. He knows Seokjin's not usually a picky person. But he's never known Seokjin to not want input on dinner. 

"Nope. I'll eat whatever you eat." Seokjin latches himself onto Yoongi's waist. He's needy, clingy. He wants Yoongi's attention, but he's too shy to ask. It’s another type of mood swing. But Yoongi actually loves this one. 

Yoongi figures there's something on the tip of Seokjin's tongue. He wants to say something. He assumes it's a dinner recommendation. But Seokjin wants Yoongi to pry it out of him. They've played this game before. Yoongi's had more success prying open sealed clam shells than getting his hyung to ask for something. 

It's times like these that Yoongi falls back on reverse psychology. Seokjin has a diverse palette, he rarely ever turns down food. But Yoongi knows a few things that Seokjin prefers not to eat. "I'm in the mood for fried tofu," he starts. 

Seokjin pulls a face of disgust. He hates the texture of tofu. Even more so since the pregnancy has been messing with his taste buds. Yoongi sees Seokjin's displeasure and he's satisfied with the response. "Alright. So you don't want tofu. What do you want then?" 

Seokjin sits up to face Yoongi on the couch, he's fiddling with his hands in his lap like he's in trouble, like he's guilty of some high profile crime. The older man pouts as he explains, "I don't want anything…" 

Yoongi knows where this is going, "But…" He spares a small glance to Seokjin's belly urging him to continue. 

"But," Seokjin palms his lower belly, "Agi is hungry for a hot pot." Seokjin's made a habit of blaming their baby on all of his cravings. A hot pot in the middle of July isn't even the most out-there request he's made in the past few months.

Yoongi laughs out loud, bellowing laughter that makes Seokjin feel just a tad less guilty. "Jagiya, you know it's like 33 degrees today, right? We're in the middle of a heat wave." 

Seokjin's quick to defend himself, "I tried to tell her that. But she already doesn't listen to me." He jokes, keeping his palm over his bump. "She's really set on a hot pot." 

Yoongi takes one of Seokjin's hands and kisses the knuckles. They’d received the sex of the baby just a few days prior and Yoongi was over the moon at the confirmation. He secretly wanted a daughter. He wants a little princess to spoil. But he wouldn’t have been disappointed with a boy either. He’s just happy to be a father. But when Seokjin refers to the little one in his belly as their daughter, it activates some primal paternal instincts he's never needed before. He can’t help but give in.

"Then I guess we're having hot pot," he picks up his phone and goes back to scrolling through delivery options, "does Agi have somewhere specific in mind?" 

"Actually…" Seokjin's back to fiddling with his fingers and it pulls Yoongi's attention back, "Agi wants it homemade. And with beef. Please." 

"What a little diva she's becoming," Yoongi chuckles with a wide smile. He wants to keep the mood light, he wants Seokjin to know it's okay to have cravings and it's okay to ask for them. Even if he wants a boiling meal on a boiling day. 

But he's only ever cooked hot pot once before. And he doesn't remember it tasting that good. Nothing like his mother's homemade hot pot. Not to mention that he doesn't know if they have all the ingredients in the kitchen. Their schedules keep them plenty busy. When was the last time they were in a grocery store?

Seokjin seems to sense Yoongi's uneasiness, "You don't have to, Yoongi. I know you're tired. I'm really okay with whatever you want to order." He looks down like he's talking to the baby, "Maybe we can have a hot pot when the rainy season comes around. It's not too far away." Seokjin's already shame-spiraling for asking. Yoongi will absolutely not allow it.  

"Jagiya, love. Look at me," Yoongi lifts Seokjin's chin with a finger to meet his eyes. "If Agi wants a hot pot, then Agi gets a hot pot. Made from scratch by her second favorite appa. With the finest beef we probably have in the kitchen." 

Seokjin's floored by the suave charisma of the one and only Min Yoongi. He's seen it a handful of times, specifically since they found out he was pregnant. It’s a different kind of sentiment than the usual calm, cool, collected, little-rough-around-the-edges Min Yoongi. In these moments, there are no walls up between them. Yoongi has nothing to prove, nothing to hide. He knows this is Yoongi's most raw, most pure expression of love. He swoons. "Thank you, Jagi. I'll make it up to you." 

"No repayment necessary, love. Remember this is for Agi." He stands off the couch, ready to take on the task, "And what Agi wants, Agi gets. Every. Single. Time." 

"And if Agi wants kisses…" Seokjin puckers his lips while his cheeks flood pink. 

Yoongi smirks, taking a few steps to close the distance between them. He runs a knuckle against Seokjin's jaw line and leans in. He can feel Seokjin's nervous breath against his nose. He can see the rapid pulse in Seokjin's neck. "What Agi wants," he whispers, lips centimeters away from Seokjin's. The older man quivers in anticipation. 

Yoongi drops to his knees in one swift motion and lifts the hem of Seokjin's shirt, exposing the protruding bump. He presses a kiss just below Seokjin's belly button, "Agi gets." He finishes with his lips still pressed to Seokjin's flesh. Yoongi scatters a few more kisses just for good measure before Seokjin swats him away. 

"Min Yoongi, you are such a tease!" Seokjin's trying to pretend that wasn't the most adorable thing he's ever seen Yoongi do. Because he wants to be mad those kisses weren't his. But it's hard to be mad at Yoongi with his soft lips still tickling Seokjin's belly and his melodic laughter filling the air between them. 

Yoongi picks himself up and presses against Seokjin's side. The hot pot will have to wait just a few more minutes. He coos, nuzzling into Seokjin's broad shoulder. "What's the matter, baby? Jealous you didn't get any kisses?" If Seokjin's going to call him a tease, then he best play the part. He leans in and whispers into Seokjin's ear. "All hyung has to do is ask." 

Seokjin melts into a puddle like snow on a hot day. Yoongi's rough voice tickles his ear and he needs. He turns to face Yoongi with pouty lips and batted lashes. "Please." It's as close as he'll to get to begging. 

That's all Yoongi needs to continue. He grabs a fistful of Seokjin's hair from the base of his neck and pushes his face closer until their lips meet. Neither wants to be the first to pull away, so they stay pressed against each other. Making small movements just to take in air and give attention to every millimeter of each other's lips. They continue until Seokjin's stomach rumbles. It reminds them both of how their little moment started. 

Yoongi's first to back away, releasing Seokjin's hair and smoothing it out. He's still wearing a wide smile on his soft features. "Sounds like Agi's hungry. I better get cooking." He keeps Seokjin's hand in his as he walks away. Until he steps too far to reach and he disappears behind a bend in the wall. 

Seokjin's left wondering what exactly he did in his past life to deserve a man like Min Yoongi. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi's scrolling through recipes online. He's hung up on the cook time of the dish. He needs to marinade the meat for at least two hours. And they've already delayed the meal enough. He knows Seokjin is hungry now. And he doesn't want to keep his love waiting. Cravings can be fleeting. He doesn't want to go through all the effort just for Seokjin to change his mind. 

He's relieved to find some sliced beef in the freezer and gets to work on defrosting it. He needs to be quick with that so he can get it marinating. What good is flavorless beef in the hot pot. At the same time, he’s preparing the marinade and setting a stock pot on the burner. He needs to get the homemade broth. He's following the recipe down to the T. He wants this to be a meal Seokjin will enjoy. 

With the meat marinating and the stock brewing, he takes a breather to finish reading through the recipe. He’s as caught up as he can be. He will soon need to start chopping the vegetables and soaking the noodles. But he has time for that later. Meanwhile, Seokjin is still hungry with no end in sight. Yoongi takes it upon himself to whip up some instant ramyeon. When it's finished, he walks a tray out to Seokjin. 

"It's still gonna be a bit before dinner's done. I made you this to hold you over in the meantime." He sets the tray down on Seokjin's lap. 

Before Seokjin can thank him, his stomach rumbles in anticipation. He giggles shyly when he thanks Yoongi and starts slurping up with noodles. The bowl is empty in minutes. Seokjin leans back on the couch, smiling with satisfaction now that his hunger has been quelled. “Aren’t you going to have a snack, too?” Seokjin asks, only now realizing that Yoongi sat beside him the whole time just watching. He feels a bit guilty not that he didn’t offer any to his husband. But he remembers that he’s technically already sharing every meal he eats with someone else. That fact eases his guilt. 

Yoongi just shakes his head. He starts collecting the used dishware and puts it back on the tray. “No, I can wait until dinner. But Agi sounded a little too impatient.” He rubs Seokjin’s stomach a bit. “I hope she’ll still be hungry for hot pot.” 

Seokjin’s mouth waters at the mention of the dish. “Yeah, I think she’ll still have some room,” he teases. Yoongi kills time entertaining Seokjin on the couch. He explains that the meat needs to marinate and the stock needs to settle and the whole process based on what he read on the internet. Really, making the hot pot isn’t difficult. It’s just time consuming. 

Yoongi presses a kiss to Seokjin’s forehead before heading back to the kitchen. The stock should be nice and rich, the meat marinated enough. He’s ready to move on to the next step. He begins the hunt for vegetables. After searching every drawer, cabinet, and container, he finds spinach, cabbage, peppers, carrots, mushrooms, onions, potatoes, and green beans. He’s actually surprised to see they had so many fresh vegetables available; he wonders how they got there. He doesn’t remember buying them. 

Regardless, he’s thankful he has them and starts chopping them into manageable bite size pieces. The recipe is easy to follow from there and in nearly no time at all, he’s got the simmering dish set up in the middle of their kitchen table. He sets out three places, just to build the habit, and calls Seokjin to the table. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seokjin can smell the meal from the living room. The savory, rich aroma of the juicy meat and hearty vegetables fills the air.  The combined fragrance of various spices adds flavor to the soup. It smells exactly like how Seokjin remembered. 

His mouth is watering as he takes in the scent. But it's not watering in anticipation of the meal. His mouth is filling with thick saliva in anticipation of sickness. 

The thing about Seokjin's morning sickness is that it never actually happens in the morning. He always wakes up feeling fine. He's able to get through most days without being sick. But he's not exempt from the miserable symptom in full. 

Actually, Seokjin would prefer a more scheduled experience. He'd prefer if he would just know what makes him feel sick. He'd rather vomit every morning for 9 months like clockwork over dealing with what his body is currently putting him through.

He's more sensitive to foods, both the tastes and the smells. And if he encounters a trigger, it's immediate nausea that always ends in misery. He'd avoid them if he could. But there's no rhyme or reason to it. No consistency in what kinds of foods are going to trigger it. 

Early in the pregnancy it was eggs. He could hardly stand to look at them without gagging. But after a few days, he ate a whole dish by himself and felt fine. Then it was Yoongi's coffee. Seafood. Onions. Pork. And now something in the hot pot is triggering him. 

The ramyeon he snacked on is sloshing around in his stomach, reminding him that there's food inside that wants out. He presses his palm into his stomach, begging the churning to stop. He doesn't want to be sick today. 

He thinks about Yoongi, who he can hear humming happily in the kitchen while preparing the meal. He thinks about how willing Yoongi was to satisfy his craving for hot pot. He thinks about how hard Yoongi's working to cook a meal he probably doesn't even want to eat. All because Seokjin asked him to. 

He's going to be devastated if Seokjin doesn't doesn't eat. He can hear the pride in Yoongi's voice when he calls for Seokjin from the kitchen. So he mutters as much baseless confidence as he can and forces the nausea away. He knows it's a temporary solution, but it's all he can think of with Yoongi waiting for him in the next room. 

"Your appa is going to kill us," Seokjin whispers down to his bump. He may also blame the bump for his current predicament. May curse her out for the poorly timed sensitivities. But he keeps those thoughts to himself.

Yoongi's smile is wide as he ladles a heaping portion into Seokjin's bowl. He makes sure to get a little bit of everything in the bowl so Seokjin can experience all the flavors. Once he's got Seokjin taken care of, he ladles himself a smaller portion.

Beads of sweat are forming on Seokjin's forehead but it's easy enough to blame the boiling pot between them combined with the heat of their apartment. But in reality, the sweat is a sign of Seokjin's nausea. A warning, a consequence for trying to ignore it. "Smells great Yoongi," He tries to distract himself while he swipes his hand across his forehead. He hopes Yoongi hasn't noticed he has yet to taste it.

Yoongi beams at the compliment. He's trying to be humble, but he thinks he did really well. And most importantly, he was able to satisfy Seokjin's craving. And that's worth more to him than the hours he spent working up a sweat in the hot kitchen. "Thanks, hyung. Agi's wish is my command. I hope it satisfies her." 

Seokjin raises the corners of his lips just a tad. He's reminded that Agi will not get the chance to taste it. If he's able to get any down at all, it likely won't stay there for long. He's got the nausea at bay for a moment and decides he's ready to take a bite.  

He picks up a chunk of carrot with his chopsticks, believing it's the safest option. The texture is soft and easy to chew, making it easy to swallow. And it likely didn't absorb as much flavor as the rest of the dish. He still doesn't know what specific element of the meal is making him so sick. The dish is filled with so many potential triggers. 

Choosing the carrot had been a mistake. The second the vegetable touches his tongue, his stomach bubbles and sloshes with rage. He's convinced the carrot is the trigger. Still, he's chewing, trying to convince Yoongi that everything is fine. He needs Yoongi to think he's enjoying the meal. Otherwise, he'll find himself on the spiraling train of thought that he's disappointed his husband. 

Seokjin's racing against his stomach. It's a competition to see if he can swallow the carrot piece before anything shoots up his esophagus. But sadly, as he continues to take slow and measured bites, his stomach rebels and he feels thick liquid climbing up his throat. 

He considers booking it to the bathroom, but the kitchen sink is so much closer and he knows he's out of time. So comfort and dignity be damned, he sprints to the kitchen sink and heaves up the undigested remains of ramyeon. 

He heaves again, and a third time before he notices Yoongi beside him. Though Seokjin thinks he's been there since the first wave. Of course, like the Saint he is, Yoongi is coddling him. Yoongi is encouraging him to get it out, easing him through wave after wave of what looks to be everything he's eaten since his last morning sickness episode the week before. 

After eight productive heaves and three dry ones, Seokjin relents. He throws himself onto Yoongi. Yoongi cradles him, guiding him back to his chair at the table. 

As soon as he's back at the table, his senses are bombarded with the stench of the hot pot again. He’s thrown immediately back to a nauseous mess. He falls off the chair onto all fours. His mouth is hanging open, droplets of saliva making small puddles on the floor. It feels like his stomach is being pressed into a juicer. But there's nothing left to push out, no matter how hard it's squeezed. It doesn’t know when to quit,

The pressure makes him gag, dry and grating against his already irritated throat. His back is fully arched in pain, tears mixing in with his saliva puddles on the floor. All the force eventually expels thin streams of bile into the mix as well. In these moments of sheer agony, Seokjin can only think about how Yoongi will be stuck cleaning the mess. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seokjin's memory is missing pieces, because next thing he knows he's in their bedroom, slouching against the mattress. Yoongi's beside him, running fingers through his hair and rubbing gentle patterns on his exposed stomach. He looks at his husband's soft, sympathetic smile and caring gaze. 

Yoongi swipes a hand across Seokjin's forehead. It's warm, but probably just from the effort. He accepts that it was just another bout of morning sickness. "Are you feeling better now?" There's no malice, only softly spoken words meant to help him be okay. 

Seokjin immediately starts crying anyway. In between hiccuping sobs, Yoongi can make out a few little phrases. "So sorry…you cooked…the smell…and Agi…belly hurt…the carrot…didn't mean it…good to me…I'm sorry…my fault." He can sort of paint a picture of what Seokjin’s so upset about. He scoops the older man into his lap with ease, resting Seokjin's head in the crook of his neck. Seokjin's using his shoulders as a tissue to wipe his leaky eyes and nose but Yoongi couldn't care any less. 

He shushes Seokjin, gently rocking side to side. He plants a kiss on every inch of skin he can reach without moving his husband too much. "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay. Everyone is okay. Everything's fine." Yoongi repeats the same gentle mantras until Seokjin stops shaking with sobs. When Seokjin seems calm enough to hold a conversation, Yoongi continues. "You don't need to apologize for anything, love. Something just didn't agree with you. That's no one's fault." 

Seokjin sniffles, "You worked so hard. And I couldn't even eat any of it." 

"If you don't feel well, you don't feel well." Yoongi states matter-of-factly, like it's obvious. Because to every extent it is. So he guides his nimble fingers along Seokjin's body for comfort. 

"You wanted to order out. Maybe this wouldn't have happened if we just ordered something." Seokjin rambles. 

"You had a craving, jagiya. You didn't know it would make you sick." Yoongi counters, "That's no one's fault either." But the reassurances all fall on deaf ears. 

"Please don't be mad, Yoongi. I'm sorry for wasting all that food. And for the mess in the kitchen. I'll clean it up.” Seokjin tries to pull away from Yoongi, but Yoongi tightens his grip. Seokjin abandons his efforts when he notices they’re not getting him anywhere. He settles back in before he’s hit with a blaring realization, “You didn’t get a chance to eat anything! You should get yourself something to eat." 

 "Jinnie-hyung. I don't care about the stupid hot pot. I don't care about the mess in the kitchen. I don't care about wasting food. I don't care about skipping dinner. I care about you,” Yoongi’s got both hands squishing Seokjin’s cheeks. He’s forcing Seokjin to look at him. He’s forcing Seokjin to hear him, “It’s you. You and Agi are all that I care about. Always.” Seokjin’s eyes well with tears again, but these aren’t guilty tears. No, tears of admiration for his husband. “Do you understand that?” Seokjin nods, nuzzling himself back into Yoongi’s chest. 

Yoongi hums in satisfaction, petting Seokjin’s head. “Good, now that that’s settled. Are you feeling better?” Seokjin hums an affirmation. “You’re all empty, Jagi. You and Agi need to eat. Think you can stomach something light, jook maybe?” 

Seokjin contemplates the question before agreeing. He looks up at Yoongi, “Can you order it from that cafe in Seongdong-gu? The one where every meal is named after a different fish. And can I get a soda. Please.” 

Yoongi chuckles fondly, pressing a long kiss to Seokjin’s forehead. “Anything for you, hyung.” 

A/N: As always, thanks for reading to the end! Feedback is always appreciated. And please let me know if I missed any tags or TWs. Please call me out for any errors you notice!

[soft-for-yoongi]

How did you know you were into emeto & what are your favorite scenarios to read/write 🤍?

Awe I love this question!!!! Thank you for asking!!

I wasn't always into emeto I don't think.. at first I just wrote little fanfics that are superr embarrassing and found out that I loveeedd when a character took care of another, it's just super sweet 🫶 and then I stumbled across emeto fanfics and read heaps of them and then thought "hmmm there's not enough of these.. maybe I should write some!" And lots and lots of practice later... here I am!!! Although I can't stand emeto in real life—it freaks me out 🤧😭

Okay and my favourite scenarios to read and write:

Stomach illnesses, motion sickness (usually carsickness), food poisoning, migraines, stress-induced sickness, fainting (paired with emeto) and indigestion!! (I think that's it lmao)

[softsnzstuff]

Sicktember 2022 Masterlist

Day 1: "Do you know how to take care of a sick person??" - Sick!Eddie and Caring!Wayne

Day 4: Hangover - King Steve tries to win his title back (cw: emeto)

Day 5: "Great, now I have your germs all over me" - Doctor Office AU, Sick Nurse!Steve

Day 6: Sick on Vacation - Streamer AU, Sick Streamer!Steve at a convention

Day 8: Intense Coddling - OFMD!!!, Blackbonnet fluff

Day 9: Home Remedy - Eddie/Wayne content

Day 10: Excessive use of tissues/blow your nose - Stucky

Day 12: Stress Induced Illness - Streamer AU, Steve at a con

Day 14: "I might be a teeny tiny bit sick, but it's fine." - Rockstar AU, Sick!Eddie on tour

Day 15: Frostbite/Sunburn - Lifeguard AU

Day 16: Care Package - Pre-Edissy content

Day 17: Fainting - Rockstar AU, Eddie on tour

Day 18: Nausea/Upset Stomach - Rockstar AU

Day 19: Whining/crying - Steddie, (NEW AU)

Day 22: Common cold/flu - Rockstar AU, Edissy

Day 25: Alt3 Cuddling on the Couch - Edissy

Day 28: Alt4 Taking a Sick Day - Doctor Office AU, Sick Doctor!Eddie

[justmeandmysickies]

Em, I'm here to request my favourite trope, and that is the ✨stress stomach ache✨ Maybe two of your boys are out on a date, but one of them is extremely anxious about something that's been happening at work; he tries his best to not let it ruin the evening, but racing thoughts and an upset stomach eventually overwhelm him and he admits to his partner that he's not doing so well (I'm imagining sick/stressed Naoko, but please choose whoever you think it'd work for!)

Flick, you are an angel, thanks for the request. This was my first time writing this trope and I'm not really satisfied with how it turned out but I hope you can still enjoy it somehow!

For reference: Marissa is Naoko's superior/boss

Stress

characters: Sevan and Naoko warnings: implied emeto, mention of food, slight angst (I think?)

“Babe? Babe! Are you listening?”

“Hm?” Naoko questioned as he finally looked up from his hands.

“So you weren’t listening.” Sevan sighed. “What’s going on with you today?”

Naoko jumped a little at the question. He thought he’d been subtle. The couple was currently out on their first date night in forever and both men had been looking forward to this evening. Unfortunately, Naoko was not enjoying himself as much as he’d liked.

“Nothing baby, really. Work was hard, that’s all.” Naoko tried to reason, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Sevan raised his eyebrows at that. His boyfriend was obviously keeping something from him. He also hadn’t missed the hand Naoko protectively kept on his stomach. “Work is always hard for you, babe but you never get like this.”

“Like what?”

“You’re fidgety, distracted and you seem uncomfortable. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” Sevan asked nervously.

“No! Baby, no. I just had a really hard day. I’m fine though, I promise.” Naoko was trying to sound reassuring, but Sevan could see right through his act. He also knew however, that his boyfriend was stubborn. Too stubborn to admit something was bothering him, so Sevan decided to drop the matter.

While Sevan went back to digging into his delicious meal, Naoko was barely picking at his. His stomach was in knots and it was starting to get really painful.

Due to Covid life at the hospital was upside down and today had been especially bad. Naoko had double as many patients to tend to and double as many shifts to cover. It was only a matter of time until a mistake was going to be made, and today might have been the day.

Nao winced as a cramp shot through his abdomen. What if he really had messed up today? What if he was going to lose his job? What was he supposed to do then? What if-

Naoko hadn’t even realized he’d spaced out again until Sevan gently nudged his arm.

“Baby, talk to me please. You look like you’re about to have a panic attack.” Sevan was getting really worried. His boyfriend was pale and sweating, his breathing was quick and shallow, and his hand was now clenching at his stomach.

“Today-“ Naoko trailed off, taking a deep breath, trying his best to collect himself. “I messed up today.”

“What do you mean you messed up?” Sevan asked, gently encouraging his boyfriend to keep talking.

“A guy came into the ER for stomach pain. He looked okay, so I told him to sit down and wait. It was full as always, so it took a while until we could get to him. He repeatedly asked me to speed things up and I was getting agitated at that because I was obviously busy as hell and he looked fine! I just figured he was being whiny. So I let him wait. Then suddenly the guy starts screaming out of nowhere. Turns out he had acute appendicitis and his appendix burst in the waiting room.” Naoko stopped talking, once again closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath.

“Okay and how is the guy now?” Sevan asked, not quite understanding the problem.

“He is fine. He’ll be discharged in a couple of days.”

“Alright but then what are you so worked up about?” Sevan wondered aloud.

Naoko’s eyes widened at the question. “What am I worked up about? The guy’s appendix burst because of me! I’m supposed to see stuff like that coming! It’s my job to evaluate the severity of a patient’s condition and to make sure they get the help they need! And today I failed! The guy could sue the hospital for that! I could lose my job and-“

“Okay baby, breathe. It’ll be okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. And I’m sure Marissa agrees with me on that. You’re a good and competent nurse. Very, very overworked but nonetheless competent.”

“Marissa said the same thing.” Nao mumbled. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he finally started to calm down after his little rant. Apparently getting this off his chest was much more helpful than he had anticipated.

“She also told me to stop worrying.” Now that he was calming down all his focus shifted to his stomach. It was hurting so much he was getting nauseous and the steak in front of him made an offending sight.

“Then what the hell are you still worried about? Jesus Christ, I thought you killed someone or something like that.” Sevan laughed, gently rubbing up and down Naoko’s shoulder.

Nao joined the laughter, suddenly feeling ridiculous about his outbreak. He didn’t know either what was bothering him so much. Maybe he really was simply overworked.

Then another wave of pain made it’s way through his stomach, so intense Naoko doubled over, panting slightly.

Sevan stopped laughing immediately. “Does it hurt bad?” He asked, noting the obvious pain his boyfriend was in. Naoko has always been prone to stress-induced stomach aches, but they rarely got this bad.

Nao nodded, straightening up slightly. “Yeah, it’s kinda bad. Guess I got myself pretty worked up.” He chuckled dryly.

Sevan bit his lip. “Do you feel like you’re gonna throw up?”

Naoko didn’t really want to think about that right now but the both of them knew there was a very real chance of exactly that happening.

“Maybe, I’m not quite sure.” He stopped, considering the way he was feeling at the moment. “I do feel pretty sick.”

“Alright.” Sevan stated, rubbing his hands together. “We’re leaving.”

“No! No, I’ll be fine! We are supposed to be enjoying tonight!”

“Baby, I won’t be enjoying myself knowing you are anxious and in pain. And judging by everything that happened tonight you desperately need some sleep. Let’s go home, I’ll rub your stomach for you and hopefully put you to sleep.” Sevan said, already getting up to leave.

“That actually sounds kind of nice.” Naoko sighed a little. He’d tried to keep up a façade all evening to make sure Sevan had a great night but going to bed honestly sounded like heaven right now.

And that is how they found themselves in their car on their way home.

“I’m sorry for ruining date night. It’s gonna be a while until we’ll be able to do this again.”

Sevan looked over at his boyfriend, who fortunately seemed to be doing slightly better already. He still had a careful hand on his stomach, but he luckily had some color back to his face.

“It’s alright, I just want you to feel better. You’ve been working way too much lately so a relaxing night at home is probably good for you. Besides, every night I spent with you is date night. I don’t need fancy restaurants and expensive food to enjoy your company.”

“Aw, that was the sweetest thing you ever said to me. Turns out you do love me after all.” Naoko joked, earning himself a half-hearted slap on the shoulder.

Yes, his boyfriend really did love him.

[kpopsickies]

Hey idk if you've done this headcanon before but please write jungwon emeto hc ~ thanks

As he is the leader, but also the second maknae, I feel like he wouldnt want the others to know when he was sick, but once he started to throw up, he wants the members with him.

stress induced stomach aches

hates throwing up

a bit more sensitive stomach

too much spicy food, or strong flavors set off his stomach

tends to refer camping out in the bathroom while sick, not wanting to have to move around a lot

heat packs for his stomach are necessary

[vantaestummy]

Hi I’m the one who did the ask ur getting outed and yes I mean in terms of sexuality? Like for example jungkook accidentally addresses his sexuality when the cameras are out and his worries so much about his mistake it makes him throw up? Sorry I should have been more specific

A/N: yes indeed! here you go friend! ❤︎ PS i know i said i was gonna write some more tomorrow but i got too excited and now i can’t sleep so enjoy lmao!

i hope you don’t mind that i made it take place after this fic? i thought it would tie in nicely! first part is here ❤︎

enjoy!

TW///// emeto

————————

Jungkook has known who he is for a while now.

Granted, there is always some growth that needs to happen. Jungkook might not fully know himself at the age of twenty-one but, he knows that he likes girls and boys, and he knows that his hyungs support him and his decision to love who he wants to love.

Still, after coming to this realization and upon knowing that his hyungs were okay with it, Jungkook became a bit freer when it came to voicing his tastes.

He wouldn’t try to hide his ogling when someone who was just his type walked by, (earning a few giggles from Jimin and Taehyung) and he even went as far as to go on a few dates with some idol friends of his, ones that he had always been quite interested in.

Things were going great for the maknae.

Until, he got too comfortable.

The boys were in the middle of an interview, a fun little segment where they were asked to play a game of would you rather. The company that is conducting the interview granted them a wonderful lunch that had Jungkook’s stomach full and satisfied.

Interestingly enough, when asked who they were more attracted to, Park Bogum or Park Hyungsik, both good friends of Taehyung’s, the boys laughed in tandem. The interviewer was about to move on, the joke having landed as they were on to the next question. They weren’t really expecting any of the boys to answer.

But Jungkook did.

“Park Bogum for sure. He has really pretty eyes, and nice lips too.” He says, not even thinking twice about his answer. He’s even smiling brightly, his brown orbs twinkling in delight.

It’s when the room goes utterly silent, that he realizes his mistake. The interviewer is staring at him, a frown etched into his features. In the seconds that follow, his expression morphs into one of disgust, making Jungkook’s stomach churn violently.

The maknae’s mouth begins to water, sickeningly, as the interviewer opens his own mouth to speak. Jungkook tries to swallow down his stress-induced nausea.

Big mistake.

There’s no coming back from this. The ‘pretty eyes’ part maybe but, nice lips?

Jungkook just outed himself.

To the entire world.

Namjoon laughs nervously, patting Jungkook’s knee roughly as the other boys join in with their forced bouts of laughter. “Yes, he’s just kidding. We’re good friends with both actors so, it’s all in good fun, isn’t that right Ggukie?” Namjoon asks. His tone is kind and soft but, loaded with hints of the road that Jungkook should take. He isn’t angry with the maknae by any means but, now was not the time to have an impromptu coming out to the public.

But Jungkook is too sick to laugh. Instead of a giggle that falls from his lips, it’s vomit.

Jungkook lurches forward, his undigested lunch spilling from his lips in a torrent of stomach acid and bile. He retches, Taehyung having immediately jumped in front of him to cover his hunched body from the frame. Jungkook hears a faint cut before his stomach revolts again, everything he ate only an hour before pulsing through his throat and pouring to the floor with a sickening splash.

Jimin holds back Jungkook’s hair as the others crowd around him, patting his back and ushering him to breathe. The interviewer is downright disgusted, on multiple accounts. Yoongi senses the man’s disdain and eyes him ruefully.

“This interview is over. Our company will be contacting you to retract everything we’ve said and to delete the footage you have. Failure to comply will result in a lawsuit so, I suggest you just do as our people say.”

With that, Jungkook is led out into the hallway, his cheeks flushed and his shirt covered in his own sick. Seokjin combs back the maknae’s hair with a level-headed sigh.

“Baby, you can’t keep stressing yourself out like this.” He says quietly. Yoongi nods.

“Gguk, if being bi makes you sick then, maybe it’s not the best idea.” The rapper teases gruffly which, although said amidst a very discerning situation, makes the boys giggle a bit. Even Jungkook who, is still coughing slightly at the rancid taste in his mouth.

“I’m sorry I… I’m sorry. It was an accident. I’ve just been so comfortable when talking about it with you guys that… I forgot where we were for a moment.” Jungkook’s heart is still ramming in his chest, tears prickling his now gloomy doe eyes at the thought of having let his band mates down.

But Namjoon is quick to kiss is forehead and pull him close.

“Ggukie, no one is mad at you for this. You just have to be careful. The world has proved itself to not really be ready for an lgbgq+ idol but, when it is, we’ll be here to shine.” Namjoon wipes away the tears that Jungkook didn’t even know had fallen. Seokjin pats the younger boy on the back.

“But until then, let’s keep gay panics to a minimum, okay?” Seokjin says with a smile, one that looks to be on the verge of a hysterical breakdown.

Jungkook chuckles sheepishly, his cheeks tinted pink as his skin returns to its natural color, his nausea dissipating. Hoseok gives him a soft hug, as to not disturb his bothered stomach.

“And bunny, if you want to come out one day, then that’s okay too. We can talk about it and figure out the best way to go about it.” Hoseok informs with a heartfelt smile. Jungkook nods, sniffling a bit as he wipes away his tears. He nods shakily.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Taehyung approaches him, an unreadable look on his face, one that makes Jungkook nervous all over again.

“Now, who would you rather, Park Bogum? Or Kim Taehyung?”

————————

A/N: sorry it was short. now for real lmao, goodnight. more to come tomorrow! ❤︎

[secretobsessionstuff]

Meeting Mateo's Parents

Here's a fic in which Shawn meets Mateo's parents. Trigger warning for mild homophobia (Basically his parents haven't come to terms yet with Mateo being gay).

There is emeto in this!

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

In a quiet corner of the restaurant, Mateo and Shawn sat on the same side of the table. It wasn’t to engage in PDA, which Mateo made perfectly clear to the waiter when he stammered out that they were waiting for other people to occupy the other side. He wasn’t about to make Shawn sit next to his dad, for god’s sake.

Yep, they were having dinner with Mateo’s parents. This was his parents’ first time meeting Shawn. Hell, this was they’re first time meeting one of Mateo’s serious partners. He didn’t have many of those before Shawn, probably because he only ever dated women.

Anyway, Mateo was terrified.

“Are you trying to make confetti?” Shawn asked.

“What?”

Shawn looked down, drawing Mateo’s eyes to his own lap where he was tearing up a napkin into a million little pieces. “Oh, oops.”

Shawn chuckled while grabbing his boyfriend’s hands so they wouldn’t find anything else to rip up. “You’re really nervous, aren’t you?”

“God, yes,” Mateo breathed out, tearing his hands away from Shawn’s to rub his palms on his thighs. He knew his mom was going to point out the pit stains on his shirts, and he knew his dad would turn red if he and Shawn even brushed up against each other.

Don’t misunderstand; his parents knew about his boyfriend. The relationship was already a year old, and his parents knew after three months. But now Mateo and Shawn were moving in together, so they decided it was time to meet the parents.

Shawn’s mothers were lovely. They were just as enthusiastic as their son. Their energy intimidated Mateo, and he found himself completely drained after the encounter, but they were welcoming. His mum, Ava, (not to be mistaken with his mom, Quinn) had a British accent. She was blond like him, and her arms were covered in tattoos. Mateo had never seen a surgeon with so many tattoos. It made Shawn look like an unfinished painting.

In comparison, Mateo’s parents got concerned when they learned that Shawn had tattoos at all. When Mateo told them about his first boyfriend, and subsequently being gay, they were surprised to say the least. It was an awkward exchange. Mateo could tell that his parents weren’t fully convinced that this was what Mateo wanted. They kept saying things like “As long as you’re happy, it doesn’t matter what we think” and “I thought this was something people discovered during puberty.” After seeing a picture of Shawn, with his tattoo snaking up his neck, they said: “At least he has normal coloured hair”. Afterwards, Mateo had to talk Shawn out of dying his hair pink.

So, yeah, Mateo was a little nervous. His stomach let out a long gurgle, which made him wrap his arms around his torso beneath the table. “Ugh, I feel sick to my stomach. I don’t know how I’m going to eat anything.”

“Baby, it’ll be fine. What makes you think it won’t go well?”

“I don’t know,” Mateo whined. “You have rather loud opinions, and my parents are rigid.”

“Um, I treat people with basic human decency. If that’s loud, then I guess I’ll scream until I lose my voice.”

“Thank you for proving my point.”

Shawn dropped his shoulders. He didn’t like seeing Mateo so nervous, but he didn’t like the way Mateo seemed to shrink into himself. “What do want me to do? Bite my tongue the whole night?”

“No, no, God no,” Mateo stuttered, “I just—I want them to like you.”

“Yeah? Which me?”

“The real you,” Mateo said, throwing his hands in the air.

They didn’t have any more time to discuss the matter because Mateo’s parents arrived at the table, directed by the waiter who took their drink orders. Mateo got a water. His stomach was already bubbly enough that he didn’t need to fill it with pop or anything else.

Mateo stood up to hug his parents. It was nice to see them after so many months a part. His mom covered his face in kisses while Shawn grinned at the affectionate display.

His mom’s name was Rosa, so of course Shawn made a ridiculous attempt at flattery by likening her to a rose. “Aren’t you charming,” Rosa said while shaking his hand. “It’s Shawn, right? You are Mateo’s friend.”

“Boyfriend, yes.” Shawn said, shaking with both hands. He nodded to Mateo’s dad, whose name was Sal. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.”

“Likewise,” Sal said, sitting down across from Shawn. “It’s been what? A year that you’ve known Mateo?”

“That’s right,” Shawn replied. “We met through mutual friends.”

“Oh yes,” said Rosa with a thin smile, “Mateo told us about the uh…blind set up.”

Shawn couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at the way Mateo’s parents tiptoed around their relationship, clearly avoiding words like ‘boyfriend’ and ‘date’. He knew that it took people some getting used to, especially if they’ve known a person a certain way their whole life. Still, they had well over nine months to get familiar with the idea. Mateo’s dad didn’t seem to think that was a long time.

“A year, huh?” Sal said while chewing a piece of bread. “You know, Rosa and I didn’t move in together for three years.”

Mateo rolled his eyes. “Dad, that’s because you were in different countries.”

“And it gave us time to think about the decisions we were making.” Sal turned his gaze back towards Shawn. “Until recently, I thought Mateo was like me in that manner, calculating, pensive.”

Mateo dropped the bread that was in his hands. The bread in his mouth suddenly felt like sticky dough that had yet to be cooked. He tried taking a sip of water to wash it down, but it didn’t work as well as he hoped. It left him coughing and clearing his throat while Shawn and his dad played ping-pong with their words. Mateo couldn’t interject.

“Well, children don’t have to be exactly like their parents.”

“No doubt,” Sal said. “But I raised him to make smart decisions. I taught him everything I know.”

“And now you have to trust that your teachings made him into a confident, determined man, capable of going after what he wants.”

Shawn and his dad went back and forth for a few more rounds, trying to get the other to see their point of view. Mateo was thankful that Shawn was at least being respectful, but he couldn’t shake the awful ache in the pit of his stomach. It was stupid, really. He couldn’t stop his parents from perceiving him, and there was no denying the fact that they now perceived him differently. His dad seemed awkward with the way he glanced at Mateo, as if this were their first meeting.

It was hard to explain, but Mateo felt like he was being rude to his parents by challenging the image that they held of their son. And he was taught to never be rude. Not to anyone.

He didn’t realize that maybe he was being rude to himself.

As the dinner dragged on, Mateo hadn’t touched his meal. Every new conversation topic made him nervous. There were so many things that Shawn and his parents could disagree on. His parents had this annoying habit of thinking their opinions were facts. It didn’t help that Shawn brought up Mateo’s siblings.

Sal beamed. “Mateo must have told you about his two older brothers.” Mateo had told Shawn about his brothers, and his younger sisters for that matter, but his dad never talked about his sisters because it wasn’t as fun to compare Mateo to them. It was his brothers who held up the bar for Mateo to reach.

“They have beautiful wives who gave us adorable grandchildren,” Rosa said.

“We had hoped that Mateo would do the same, just like he always said he would.” Sal smiled awkwardly at his son. The way his lips pressed into a thin line made Mateo think that he wasn’t really looking at him. His dad was trying to see the last version of his son that he recognized. There was no look of recognition in his eyes.

“Do you remember that, Téo?” his dad asked, reaching into the past for the nickname he used to call his son. Now Shawn occasionally used that nickname, but he didn’t have the Italian accent. Actually, his parents had an interesting accent that came from his dad being Italian and his mom being Spanish. After years of being together, their voices just melded into one. “You remember? You used to say that you would marry and have lots of kids just like your parents.”

“There’s nothing stopping him from doing that,” Shawn answered while shrugging his shoulders, “if that’s what he wants. But people do change.” By the looks of Sal and Rosa’s faces, they didn’t seem convince that Mateo wasn’t going to destroy their dream of having a million grandkids. Shawn shifted gears. “Did you know I have two mothers?”

“Oh, that’s nice,” said Rosa weakly, “Is one of them your biological mother?”

Shawn leaned forward with a large smile, “You know, Mrs. Melendez, it really doesn’t fucking matter.”

Mateo coughed harshly, still choking on water and the words he wanted to say. But no one at the table stopped talking longer enough for him to cut in. He felt like he was drowning, like the water and food in his belly was rising to block his throat.

Shawn carried on. “Mateo can have a husband, and kids, and a picket fence if he wants. But only he can decide these things.”

There was silence at the table when Shawn finished talking. Well, it was quiet save for Mateo’s ragged breathing. He might as well have been dying because no one paid him much mind. Now he was suffocating from the thick tension that seemed to squeeze his neck and his belly. God, he was hot and sweaty. And nauseous.

Sal sat with his arms crossed, his face getting redder. Surprisingly, he exhaled slowly from his nose and turned to Mateo. “Speaking of decisions, I was going to wait until after dinner to make up my mind, but I don’t have to.” He shot a glance at his wife. “We think it’s too soon for you to be moving in with this…boy.”

“Dad…” Mateo said weakly. He could hardly get any words out of mouth. It suddenly felt like a lot more than just words would come out. It didn’t matter because his dad held up his hand to say he wasn’t finished speaking. Mateo clamped his mouth shut. He mustn’t be rude.

“This isn’t like you, Mateo,” Sal carried on. “I think you need to take step back and slow down. Take a break from whatever this is, and—”

“It’s a relationship!” Shawn shouted as his fist came down hard on the table. “Mr. Melendez, I don’t know if you know this, but I’m dating your son, and he likes it.” Shawn’s heart was beating fast when he closed his mouth. It had taken all of his strength not to blurt out in this busy restaurant that he was fucking Mateo.

Sal’s face got even redder. He balled his hands up, but did nothing with them. It looked like it took all of his strength not to smash his fists on the table. “I’m not insisting that—Look, I know…I know—” Sal gave up trying to put his thoughts into words. He turned to his awfully quiet son. “Mateo are you going to say anything? Your boyfriend is making quite the scene.”

“I—I,” Mateo mumbled with a hand over his mouth. He couldn’t get further than that because his stomach was in his throat. His father’s tight face turned blurry, becoming an angry blob of red that he was too afraid to look at. The whole restaurant soon turned blurry.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” his mother asked, reaching a hand out to her son.

Mateo pulled away from her as his stomach heaved. “I think I’m going to be sick,” he mumbled before gagging into hand and running away from the table.

Rosa made a move to chase after her son, but Shawn held up his hand. “Don’t. You both already make him feel terrible about himself as it is.” Shawn looked to Mateo’s father and spoke calmly. “He worried himself sick, just hoping that you would like me. But I fucked it up by not sitting back while you wished for a different son.”

With that, Shawn left in the direction that Mateo ran, no doubt towards the bathroom.

He found his boyfriend on the floor, retching over the toilet. The water was already brown with vomit, and it sounded like Mateo was no where near empty.

“I’m here, babe,” Shawn said as he settled next to his boyfriend. “I’m so sorry. Just let it all out.”

Mateo let it all out. The sick. The tears. The snot. With every heave, he felt like he was retching up tissue from his heart. It was just mucus mixed with bile, but it hurt his chest so bad that he swore pieces of his body now floated in the toilet.

His tears dripped into the dirty water. It was more than tears of exertion. It was tears for the boy that his parents wanted him to be. The tears were of grief for the son that never really existed. He thought they would try. Mateo thought his parents would get used to the idea, especially when they saw how happy he was with Shawn.

Another heave took him by surprised, forcing his shoulders forward as he gave up the contents of his stomach. “Ugh, Shawn it hurts.”

“I know, baby, it hurts so bad.” Shawn cooed while rubbing his boyfriend’s quivering back.

“I thought,” he began but was cut off by an empty gag. “I thought they could live with it.”

“Maybe they still can. They see now how much pain they cause you.”

“No,” Mateo cried. “Not now. Not now that you….” He sniffled and spat into the toilet. “…Why did you have to provoke him like that?”

“I’m sorry, Mateo,” Shawn said, lifting his hand from the boy’s back. “but you deserve more than parents who will live with it. I won’t apologize for standing up for you. I don’t care if they hate me.”

“But I care if they hate me.”

“We don’t hate you, son.”

Mateo and Shawn froze. Mateo was still on his hands and knees in the stall, but he recognized the sound of his father’s voice. He coughed up a string of saliva before wiping his mouth. Then he and Shawn slowly emerged from the stall. Mateo sure as hell never thought his father would see that.

Sal stood awkwardly in the bathroom with his hands in his pockets. He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. “We don’t hate you, Mateo. We just don’t…know you anymore.”

Shawn opened his mouth to say something, but Mateo put his hand on his chest to stop him.

Mateo approached his dad. He tried channeling Shawn’s passion and conviction, hoping that his voice wouldn’t shake. “That’s bullshit.” He never thought he’d say that to his father with his opinions made of gold. “I’m still the same person. I’ve just grown and matured, and I figured out what I want. I’m sorry that you can’t get let go of the kid you made up in your head.”

His father tapped his foot like a child trying to pluck up the courage to confess. “And what you want—”

“Is Shawn. That’s what I want, and I know it for a fact. But I want you both in my life.”

“Your mother and I want that too,” his dad said sadly. “You’re changing so much.”

“Yeah, I’m going to do that.” Mateo swung his arms by his side as if to say that this was who he was. “If you actually acknowledge the good changes in my life”—he looked back at Shawn—“and don’t just ignore the changes, then it won’t feel so jarring. You might actually see that I’m happy.”

Sal sighed deeply. “That’s all we want. Truly.”

“Good, then maybe we can try this again.” Mateo walked backed to Shawn. He grabbed his hand and pulled him into the conversation with his father. “Let me introduce you to my boyfriend, Shawn.”

Mateo watched as his father and boyfriend shook hands awkwardly. What do you expect? They had never met before this exact moment.

[secretobsessionstuff]

Request Status

*** None of these lists are in order***

Written and in line to be posted

Sick Madix, stress induced illness. Dakota caretaker (Just Posted)

Currently being Written (or trying to anyway)

TBD

In line to be Written

Sick Blair, overeating at fancy event

Sick Shawn, emeto alone on drive home

*many more to be updated later

Where did the Masterlist go??

It's right here: LINK

(If link doesn't work, try link in blog description)

[angstyaches]

I’d also love to know your take on numbers 1-5 for “emeto this or that”! And numbers 7 and 13. 😊

Thank you, Maddie!

Ask Game

1. Stomach flu or food poisoning?

Although I am slowly moving past my issues with food-related stuff, I'd still have to go with stomach flu. 2. More focus on nausea or the actual vomiting?

The nausea! The more detail about what is going on with their stomach during the build-up and uncertainty, the better. 3. Sickie telling caretaker from the get go that they feel nauseous or hiding it until the last possible minute? Ooh, this one's hard, because on the one hand, I love a sickie who's miserable but doing their best not to bother anyone. But the absolute vulnerability of a sickie giving voice to their pain/nausea? That's also so lovely 🥺 If I had to choose, think I have to go with hiding it, though.

4. Sickie throwing up on themselves or throwing up on the caretaker?

On themselves. The secondhand embarrassment/guilt of them throwing up on their caretaker would take me out of the story in this case.

5. Shy flustered sickie or shy flustered caretaker?

Shy, flustered sickie. Especially if they're confused about why someone would bother to take care of them 🖤

7. Extremely long build up of nausea or sickie has a minute of nausea and make a big mess because they didn’t have enough time to find a bin?

Hmm. For the same reasons as number 2., I have to go with long build up. Stomach aches are my absolute favourite, and I'd happily read stomach ache fics even knowing there was no emeto coming. It's the details and the sickie's prolonged suffering for me.

13. Only being able to throw up a little every couple of hours or getting it all up at once?

Another close one; a little every couple of hours is good for drawn-out suffering, especially if the sickie can barely get any sleep because of it. But since stress and panic-induced vomiting is my number one, I guess all-up-at-once would win out.

[angstyaches]

Swallow the World: Requests and One-shots (3)

Occurring during the Thicker Than Blood arc:

Capable With Felix AWOL from the townhouse, Elliott struggles to take care of Shayne and himself. (Starvation mention, emeto)

Penny for Your Thoughts Elliott throws up outside the Mulberry house, and the only available caretaker is Charlie. (Emeto)

Blanket Burrito As his transformation to full vamp becomes more intense, Elliott accepts a little help from Shayne. (Emeto, quite fluffy)

Stress Eating On the eve of receiving their college offers, Charlie, Shayne, and Rin hang out at the Mulberry house. Charlie uses food as a coping mechanism. (Overeating, emeto)

Londis Food poisoning hits Rin as she’s driving home from Charlie’s house. Shayne tries to comfort her. (Food poisoning, emeto)

Party Tricks Elliott is sincerely cheered up as his supernatural abilities begin to manifest. Shayne has... hmm, mixed feelings about it. (Emeto, kind of fluffy)

A Year of Your Life Charlie makes a proposal that Shayne finds hard to swallow. (Stress, emeto)

Emotional Motion Sickness Shayne has an anxiety attack and throws up while Charlie tries to calm him down. (Anxiety, emeto)

Occurring after the Thicker Than Blood arc:

The Strong One After holding it together for Felix’s sake, Elliott finally breaks down under stress. (Stress, emeto)

Video Call Charlie calls Shayne after a bad nightmare. (Emeto)

Another Video Call This time, Charlie’s been skipping meals like a big old silly head. (hunger, slight stress)

Overheard Felix is sick on a car journey, and Shayne tries not to interrupt Elliott as he comforts him. (Car sickness, emeto)

Human Bodies Make No Sense A bad headache leaves Charlie nauseous and barely able to move. (Migraine, emeto)

Nearby A queasy Elliott attempts to make it through movie night.

On Edge Shayne doesn’t feel great, which leads to him and Charlie having a misunderstanding. (Stomach ache)

Rubs and Kisses Shayne wakes up with a stomach ache, and gets lots of attention from Charlie. (Stomach ache)

Garlic It might not kill vampires as the legends say, but an ill-advised kiss leaves Ryan battling nausea and losing. (Emeto)

In the Room | Hold Me Together Charlie is going through some family stuff. Luckily, he’s not alone. (Stress, hunger)

Drunk Crying A silly night out takes a downward turn. (Alcohol, crying)

Feverish Nightmare Shayne’s not having a good night, and Charlie’s too busy to notice. (Nightmare, crying, emeto)

Fight Shayne (almost) suffers alone after a misunderstanding with Charlie (anxiety, emeto)

Ice Cubes Charlie’s down with another headache, and it’s a bad one. (Migraine)

 “My Bed?” Rin’s just moved into her new room - and she’s suddenly not feeling so good. (Stomach bug, emeto)

The Missing Formula Rin’s trip to the Fresher’s Tent is setting up to be a disappointment - until it isn’t. (No warnings)

Again Charlie can’t quite help himself once he finds out that he’s been giving Shayne butterflies (kissing, kink indulgence)

Everything Right | Part Two - Elliott tries to reconnect with a friend, and ends up making himself sick in the process. (Stomach ache, emeto, induced)

Isolated - Kazu’s isolating at his new, empty apartment. (Hunger)

Stood Up | Part Two A lonely, hungry Asher heads home to some frozen waffles and his best friend. (Hunger)

Transformed Elliott’s transformation sickness hits its peak. (Emeto, stomach ache)

Your Best Nancy is stressed about a situation with one of her students (crying)

Your Old Self Elliott’s getting back into the swing of things. (Stomach ache)

 Bad Bug Charlie pushes himself too hard. (Fever, fainting, emeto)

What I’m For Shayne goes through one of his worst bouts of demon sickness since he left the Devines. (Stomach ache, emeto)

Adequately Scary Elliott overdoes it on a hunt (overindulgence, emetophobia, stomach pain)

Hay There Charlie and Shayne try a haunted hay ride (emeto) - moodboard

The Cape Shayne and Charlie are getting ready for a Halloween party when Felix starts to realise that Shayne’s shirt looks familiar (fluff)

Seven Bedrooms (Sick or Treat 2023) Charlie needs the downstairs bathroom, but finds it... occupied (fluff, emeto)

___

In His Element Elliott tests out his new abilities (body horror, emetophobia, emeto)

Not Well A stressed Felix comes down with a bug (anxiety, emeto)

Sick-sick | Part Two Charlie’s brought home a bug - and has been dealing with some demon-related nightmares. Part Three Shayne gets sick too, and Charlie starts to panic (nausea, exhaustion, nightmares, emeto)

Burning Shayne swallows a new kind of demon (stomach pain, emeto, angst)

Weirdo Shayne indulges his curiosity about Charlie’s... fascination (fluff, kink mention)

Pull the Tuna into the Boat Shayne takes care of a nauseous, feverish Charlie (nightmares, fever, emeto, anxiety)

The Exact Right Person Shayne’s stomach hurts, but Charlie’s panicking about meeting his niece (anxiety, stomach ache, angst/comfort)

The Snack Void A hungry and annoyed Charlie can’t keep his feelings bottled up for long (hunger, stomach pain, burping)

Cherry Coke (Sick or Treat 2023) Shayne and Charlie spend Halloween with Charlie’s niece (fluff, mentioned emeto)

Friday the 13th (Sick or Treat 2023) Charlie’s drunk, Elliott tries to wind him up (emeto) 

[secretobsessionstuff]

Madix as Sickee

Madix Comes Home Sick (Emeto/Unspecified) 

Bloated and Burpy Madix with Dakota (Emeto/Overeating)

Good Samaritan (Emeto/Stomach flu)

Made a Mess (Emeto/Unspecified) 

“Do You Have a Bag or Something?” (Emeto/Motion Sickness)

Sick at Riley’s Birthday Dinner (Emeto/Stomach Flu)

Indigestion at the Movies (Emeto/Indigestion)

Sick at the Airport (Emeto/Food Poisoning) 

Sick at the Amusement Park (Emeto/Heat Exhaustion) 

Madix’s Nauseous Thoughts (Emeto/Unspecified) 

Burpy and Pukey (Emeto/Stomach Flu)

Madix and Riley Both Get Food Poisoning (Emeto + Scat + Multiple Sickees/Food Poisoning)  

Horrible Stomach Flu (Emeto/Stomach Flu)

Nighttime Nausea (Emeto/Unspecified) 

Sick at Work (Emeto/Stomach Flu)

Subtly Sick (Emeto/Stomach Flu)

Sick in Crowded Car (Emeto/Motion Sickness) 

Snowed-in (Emeto/Stomach Flu)

Thanksgiving Food Poisoning (Emeto + Multiple Sickees/Food Poisoning) 

Throwing Up on the Floor (Emeto/Stomach Flu)

Stress-Induced Puke (Emeto/Stress) 

Winter Fever (No Emeto/Flu)

Madix Throws Up on Riley (Emeto/Stomach Flu)

Micah and Alexi to the Rescue (Emeto/Stomach Flu)

Call In Backup (Emeto + Multiple Sickees/Stomach Flu) 

Ad Nauseum (Emeto/Unspecified) 

Traffic Jam (Emeto/Food Poisoning) 

Madix’s Appendix (Emeto/Appendicitis)

Christmas Shopping Flop (Emeto/Food Poisoning) 

Make It All Better (Emeto/Stomach Flu)

Suffering in Silence (Emeto/Anxiety Attack)

“It's Happening Again” (Emeto/Anxiety Attack) 

First Time Sick with Riley (Emeto/Food Poisoning) 

Don’t Want To Do This Anymore (Emeto/Anxiety Attack)

Talk to Me (Emeto/Anxiety Attack)

Sick Sleepover (Emeto/Stomach Flu)

The Red Zone (Emeto/Stress)

Scenic Trip (Emeto/Motion Sickness)