A little place for my fanfiction ramblings. Some crossposts to my fanfiction.net and Ao3 accounts, but probably some other drabbles that I don't feel like uploading to the full accounts as well :).Â
Here is a compilation of places to donate (IF you can, simply reblogging and sharing this can help) and petition to sign. I found these websites and organizations on twitter.
DONATIONS
THE MINNESOTAÂ FREEDOM FUND: Donate to this to collect funds to pay jail bonds for the protesters who get arrested.
BLACK LIVES MATTER: An organization fighting for the BLM movement. Donate if you can.Â
BLACK VISIONS MN: an organization that is led by Black, Queer and Trans people. Donate if you can.
NAACP Legal Defense Fund: Fights for the overall equality fight. Donate if you can.
PETITIONS
Willie Simmons has spent 38 years in prison for a $9 robbery. He had two prior convictions similar to robbery that he served time for. He was prosecuted under the Alabama Habitual Offender law and was given a life sentence for his third strike - stealing 9 (NINE) dollars. Sign his petition.Â
Breonna Taylor was killed by police who were conducting an UNANNOUNCED drug raid, where they gave no request to enter. They bashed her door and entered, shooting her EIGHT times. They were in the WRONG HOUSE.Â
George Floyd was killed by a police officer who knelt on his neck and suffocated him to death, after George pleaded with the officer and told him he couldnât breathe. The officer had pulled him from where he sat in his car on an alleged FORGERY. You can also text âFLOYDâ to 55156
ARREST THE OFFICERS WHO KILLED GEORGE FLOYD: The main police officer who murdered George is being kept in PROTECTIVE CUSTODY. You probably have heard he was arrested, but this is NOT TRUE. He was placed under PROTECTIVE custody because of the riots and âthreatsâ on his life.Â
If you know of ANY other organizations or petitions, PLEASE ADD TO THIS LIST. The fight for justice doesnât end here, it will never end. Especially when the president of the United States calls white supremacists good people and protesters of a mans death THUGS. USE YOUR VOICE. NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE. FUCK COPS. FUCKÂ âBLUE LIVESâ. ALL BLACK LIVES MATTER!
the minnesota freedom fund is asking folks to donate to other organizations instead. the specific ones they listed are black visions, linked above, and these two:
northstar health collective, organized healthcare professionals working with anti-authoritarian groups
reclaim the block, a collective that aims to redistribute funding away from police and towards more community-oriented projects in minneapolis
these are the links i send to my facebook friends who keep running their mouths about âthe protests hurting the communityâ
minnehaha food shelf &Â calvary church food shelf are both centered in the south minneapolis area where the riots started. the grocery stores in the area have been decimated, so food shelves and food insecurity charities need a lot of love right now.
northside funders group is a philanthropic group in the twin cities thatâs using all its funds right now for helping local businesses
migizi is a native american media/history nonprofit whose office was destroyed in the riots
we love lake street is devoting funds specifically towards rebuilding the lake street area in south minneapolis
some more groups that could use your help
the healing justice foundation is a national nonprofit thatâs specifically focusing on mental health resources for bipoc right now
ctul is a nonprofit focused on low-wage workers and workers rights in minnesota
mpd 150 is focused on policing and specifically trying to reroute the conversation from âwe need to change police proceduresâ to âthe police need structural reformâ
the spiral collective is providing funds for supplies, medic kits, and other things that protesters will need on the ground
unicorn riot is a media collective that has had people on the ground filming every night in minneapolis
Miraculous Ladybug
Warnings: Vomit, emeto, panic attack
Pairing: Marc x Nathanial
Summary: Marc tries his best to keep up a brave face for his boyfriend so Alya can interview them for the Ladyblog, but it doesnât go very well.
This idea was brainstormed with @simplysickness and Iâve finally finished editing it! Sorry for the long wait. <3 Hope it was worth it.
Marc had never regretted a decision so much in his life. A block of lead had settled in his stomach while his heart battered against his ribs hard enough he could feel his whole body throbbing in time. He sank further into the couch he was sharing with Nathanial and his hoody fell further over his face.
âI...I donât know about this. I mean⌠I just write. No one cares about that. M-Maybe you just do the interview without me?â Marc stammered, clutching his notebook to his chest as if he could hide behind it and disappear.
He didnât know why heâd agreed to be part of the interview in the first place. If Nathanial hadnât been so keen on promoting their comic with the help of Alyaâs Ladyblog he definitely would have turned it down on the spot. But his boyfriend had looked so excited when Alya had brought up doing a segment on people inspired by Ladybug and Chat Noir that Marc could only smile nervously and nod. He told himself it would be fine. Nathanial would be with him. He wouldnât even have to talk! He could manage his stage fright. He was overthinking it like always.
He ignored the head-spinning, stomach-turning nerves wreaking havoc on his body with very little success. The pressure over his chest gripped tighter and tighter until he found himself purposefully thinking of each breath. His lungs screaming and fighting him with every inhale.
Was it just him or was the room spinning?
In. Out. In. Out.
He really couldnât do this!
A warm, familiar hand squeezed his knee and broke is hyper-focus on not panicking. He carefully peeked out of his hooded prison. The worn red fabric flopped pathetically over one panicked eye, just giving him enough sight through his bangs and the hoods frayed edges to see Nathanialâs smile closer to his face than heâd realized heâd been.
âOf course people want to hear from you. You write the stories that everyone loves. Youâre going to be fine, Marc. Everyone is going to love getting first-hand insight to how you write.â
Nathanialâs smile was kind, and Marc knew he meant well, but the words meant absolutely nothing to him just then. He wanted to be told he could hide in the corner and watch the interview from safely behind the camera. But Nathanial wanted this, didnât he? He was going to be letting him and Alya down if he backed out now.
He swallowed the sticky lump in his throat and sat up slowly. Pressing himself closer to Nathanialâs side for some sort of support. Heâd never once loosened the death grip on his notebook as he shook off his hood and quietly asked for some water. His voice barely squeaked out of his throat and Nathanial and Alya shared a worried look before she got up to get the drink.
âMarc. You donât have to do this if youâre that nervous. Itâs alright,â Alya said as she handed him the glass and he downed it in a few gulps. He was going paler by the minute and even Nat had to realize this wasnât normal.
âYeah⌠if itâs making you this scared itâs alright,â Nath said while rubbing Marcâs shoulder.
âYou need to decide, though. The stream is supposed to start in 10 minutes,â Alya said briskly.
âI-Iâll be okay. Sorry. Just⌠you can do more...talking?â He offered and loosened his grip on his notebook to grab Nathanielâs hand instead. He could ignore the swirling fire in his stomach for a little while. 15 minutes maybe? It was all going to be fine once Alya turned on the phone.
Nathaniel squeezed his hand back and for a moment Marc almost believed in himself. The tightness in his shoulders eased and a pleasant warmth traveled from his arm to the tips of his ears. The dizzy feeling lessened, and he took a deep breath while Alya adjusted the tripod. He could ignore the fine tremors running along his spine and try not to think about how flushed red his cheeks must be. He could do this. He could. Nath was right next to him. He could manage this. It was just a camera and his friends. It would be fine.
And then Alya counted down and hit the live stream button.
Instantly his head swam. Heat rushed up the back of his neck and his whole body stiffened. He couldnât hear Alya introducing them to her viewers over the pounding of blood in his ears. No. No, he really couldnât do this! Not live. He wasnât ready!
Marc clutched to Nathanialâs hand and stared at the camera. He pictured all the people watching him. Expecting something amazing, and instead getting him. Boring, meek, pathetic little old him. Who cared what he had to say. Why should anyone care what he had to say? They were going to torment him for being so dull and sad at school the next day!
Was the room tilting?
The floor was falling out from underneath him and his stomach lurched sickeningly along with it. He couldnât control anything at the moment. His breathing picked up and the sticky lump formed in the back of his throat again. He couldnât swallow it. He had no saliva left in his mouth. He needed water. Darkness was filtering on the sides of his vision. Spotty, bright, TV static fuzz closed in all around him. He could hear the buzzing. He could only hear the buzzing. Only feel the vice around his chest and the nausea building with every heartbeat.
âMarc? Whatâs wrong?â
Nathanialâs voice felt so far away. Alya called out softly as well, nervous and smile faltering as Marc unraveled like a loose roll of yarn in front of how many people? What did they think of him? What would they think of this idiot panicking on live broadcast without so much as a question directed at him? He was a joke!
Suddenly his mouth was no longer dry and he snapped back to reality as a cold splash of water came back up his throat. He jerked into motion, but his paralyzed limbs tripped him up as he tried to bolt off the couch and instead went tumbling to the floor. He couldnât suppress the gag forcing itself from the pit of his tightened, quivering stomach muscles and felt a rush of burning water surge up his throat. He tried covering his mouth but couldnât think fast enough to also close it, and coughed up a mouthful of watery sick onto his hands, gloves, and Alyaâs poor floor.
The process felt so long to Marc but from fumble to heaving had only been a handful of seconds. Long enough for Nathanial and Alya to jump up in a frantic attempt to see if he was alright and kneel at his side in time for him to be sick. Alya fumbled around with the phone to end the stream quickly while yelling for her older sister to bring a trash can.
Marc was shuddering where he kneeled, hand still covered over his mouth and tears streaking down his face in absolute mortification. Nathanialâs hand was firmly rubbing Marcâs shoulders with one hand and supporting him with the other. Marc gagged again from the knots still twisting his stomach and barely held himself back until a bin was shoved under his chin and he moved his hand away, heaving up a thicker stream of undigested lunch than before.
âSorry. Iâm sorryâŚâ he panted when he could catch his breath. His heart was still battering against his ribs. His head still spun sickeningly and his stomach jumped and clenched menacingly, forcing him to hold himself over the bin.
The TV static slowly dimmed away until it was only the blood rushing in his ears and Nathanialâs guilty face in his vision.
âYou have nothing to apologize for. We shouldnât have pushed you,â Alya said gently, trying not to wince at the small puddle on the floor.
âCan you stand? Why don't I take you to the bathroom, so you can wash your hands?â Nathanial asked, studying his boyfriend's pale face and frowning at the heartbeat he could feel still racing under his palm. Marc could only nod weakly and lean on Nathaniel, afraid to so much as open his mouth.
He wobbled slightly as he hovered over the sink and peeled his soiled glove off. Tears still clung to the corners of his eyes at the thought of how much heâd just let his friends down. He hadnât even been asked a question! How could he let himself get so worked up for nothing? And now heâd even thrown up on a live stream. Everyone at school was going to know before the weekend was over. Heâd never hear the end of it.
His stomach flipped at the thought and he abandoned the glove to the sink so he could dive towards the toilet instead. A rush of bile dribbled past his lips with a heave and he clutched the rim of the bowl tightly, panting desperately as the iron vice squeezed across his chest again. There wasnât much to lose, but his body didnât care. This was the one thing it could do, and he gagged painfully again into the bowl, forcing him to give up precious breathing time.
âMarc? Babe, look at me. I know itâs hard, but you need to calm down. Take a slow breath. Câmon. Look at me and take as deep a breath as you can,â Nat encouraged, squeezing Marcâs arm and massaging the back of his neck gently.
Marc swallowed and peeked sideways at his boyfriend, trying to focus through the haze and follow his instructions. It took a few tries and another few heaves before Nath had him breathing calmer and his heart rate back down a few notches. His stomach settled down with the anxiety waning and he dared lean back into Nathanialâs waiting arms.
âI'm sorryâŚâ
âStop that. Do you think either of us wanted you to literally worry yourself sick about that interview? I should have seen how uncomfortable you were. Iâm sorry. I never should have made you do it. I know you hate talking in big crowds,â Nathanial sighed and wrapped his arms protectively around his boyfriend. Marc had settled between his legs, back to chest, in a pile of lanky limbs on Alyaâs bathroom floor. It was cold, but it was quiet. And private. Marc rested his head against Nathanialâs shoulder and nibbled on his lip, the gloss already long worn off by then, and frowned before speaking up.
âI did want to try, though,â he said softly and stared at his hands. âI wanted to do it for you but⌠I also sort of wanted. You know. To be...better? I didnât think I would go full-on anxiety attack over this,â he mumbled and closed his eyes.
The feel of Nathanialâs heartbeat thumping away steadily against his back gave Marcâs body no choice but to try and match it. He was thankful for the distraction. Every muscle in his body was sore and stretched thin, but he knew it would fade away soon enough. He didnât want to do anything but sit there and take a nap. Would Alya care if they just commandeered her floor for a couple of hours? Probably not. She was kind enough, but there would undoubtedly be pictures.
Nathanial stroked his hair gently, and Marc curled up closer to him when he spoke.
âThen maybe we can try again. What about something recorded ahead of time? Then we can do as many takes as we need and you wonât have to worry about messing up,â Nathanial suggested. Marc smiled and looked up at him.
âIâd kiss you right now if I didnât think that would be the most disgusting thing in the world,â he laughed quietly as Nath wrinkled his nose at the thought.
âAfter you brush your teeth, please,â he agreed but tilted his head to at least give Marc a light kiss on his cheek. âCâmon. Letâs get you home.â
I hope my question (about the time) wasnt rude. I just know some authors knock it out in like... a few days and others take weeks/months. I was curious to where you fell on that spectrum. I promise i wasnt trying to be rude ily
So like... if i drop a request how long may it be before content comes (im not rushing im just curious)
Depends on how detailed the prompt is and my RL time. I work a 9-5 with a 2 hour commute during the week so my time is usually limited to weekends ^^; if the prompt inspires I might knock it out in a couple days. If i dont have an idea it could take...a month...maybe. Lol
*busts through a window* *slams hands on nearest table* WAIT BUT SICK MARK OR SICK NAT. MY SHY GAY BOYS NEED LOVE AND ATTENTION. (And... puke and whump and suffering but-)
totally agree xD I just need to think of a good idea to actually write!
Not that ive ever seen. Im gonna have to think of a plot to make this work xD ive teased a few things on my comp before since mark made his debut but they just felt blah. Haha
*busts through a window* *slams hands on nearest table* WAIT BUT SICK MARK OR SICK NAT. MY SHY GAY BOYS NEED LOVE AND ATTENTION. (And... puke and whump and suffering but-)
totally agree xD I just need to think of a good idea to actually write!
Do you still take miraculous sick fic requests? If so what characters/ships are you open to?
Oh for sure. Just with the warning that i may take forever. Lol. As far as ladybug mostly surrounding adrien, mari and Luka. But i have a super soft spot for Nat/Mark too. Generally i like to focus on the guys over the girls.
So for my biggest project yet, I was lucky enough to be a part of @thelastpilotâs Miraculous 2019 Calendar. Honestly it was some of the most fun Iâve ever had. It pushed me to do things with my art that I never do of my own accord and I couldnât be happier to show you guys what we achieved.
The calendar is completely free to download here! So check it out, show your support and have a miraculous 2019!
Miraculous Ladybug
Warnings: Vomit, emeto
Pairing: Adrien x Marinette x Luka friendship
Summary: Marinette finds herself trapped with her two crushes on a boat in the throws of food poisoning, but the boys are there to take care of her. Even if she would rather die of embarrassment.
- FINALLY finished this request after months of playing around with it. Hopefully it satisfies for the amount of time it took. xD -
âOh⌠please settle down. Please,â Marinette moaned under her breath as the ginger ale from her sorry attempt at quelling the churning in her gut bubbled and sizzled away like acid. Julekaâs houseboat swayed gently beneath her feet and sent her stomach swirling ten-fold right along with it. All she could do was lean against the railing, arms wrapped around her middle, and hope that she could control her stomach long enough to plan a getaway before disaster could strike.
All of their friends were having the night of their lives dancing to Ninoâs DJing skills and Marinette had planned to be right alongside them. Adrien had even been allowed to come and secretly sheâd hoped that somehow she might be able to get a dance in for the night. She hadnât planned on her chicken salad coming back to challenge her shortly after the music had started. Only two hours in and sheâd had to slip away from the crowd on the front deck to hide in the darkness cast from the cabin at the back of the boat where no one could see her.
Her tainted lunch did a backflip on the next wave, followed by a paralyzing cramp in the center of her stomach and she couldnât help the whimper as she tightened her arms around her waist and slid down the railing wall. She tucked herself into as tight of a protective ball as she could in hopes of easing the cramp, but even once that faded the added nausea itâd brought on stayed. She could feel it clinging to the back of her throat like rotted syrup and no amount of swallowing was getting rid of it.
âMarinette? What are you doing over here?â
She didnât need to look up to know who that voice belonged to, but the arrival made her flinch back quickly which she instantly regretted as her stomach jostled and her throat tightened. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, using all of her will power to try and force her stomach to stay down.
âAre you alright? Youâre pale as a ghost,â he asked quietly, concern shinning bright behind emerald eyes. Marinette might have seen it if she hadnât been more concerned with pulling herself up as quickly as her trembling legs would let her. Another sway rocked her back to the railing edge and she gripped the bar as she leaned over. An audible gurgling hiss echoed over the sounds of the lapping waves from her stomach as the muscle constricted harshly, forcing her to gag over the water uselessly. Was she really going to throw up right when Adrien was there to see? Could it be any more humiliating?!
âWhoa!â Adrien gasped at the sudden movement and stood up to brace an arm behind the poor girls shoulders in an attempt to help her stay upright.
âAre you seasick? Try to take a breath. Youâll be alright,â he coached surprisingly calmly while all Marinette could do was shake her head and try not to watch the waves rocking up against the haul. The backflips from earlier were quickly turning into a full olympic gymnasts set of rolls and twirls and the most she could do was clutch the railing in a death grip and lean over further as she fought off another gag. She barely managed to swallow the sudden rush of hot bile splashing the back of her throat and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, all while Adrien rubbed her back and cooed empty little encouragements at her that it would be ok.
âIs Marinette ok?â Luka asked as he peaked around the cabin and caught the quickly devolving scene in front of him. He hurried over and Marinette whimpered again at the voice. Luka too!? Did everyone she found cute have to come and watch her throw up over the side of a boat?
âI think she might be seasick,â Adrien offered, but raised an eyebrow when Marinette shook her head again. She swallowed heavily and dared open her mouth.
âL-lunchâŚâ she managed to mumble before another gag sent the tainted meal surging back up her throat, the lingering sludge bringing on a second heave to finally send the contents of her stomach down to the water below. Her stomach cramped and seized as the muscle decided that was the perfect time to lose it. She barely had the time to cough and pull some much needed air back into her lungs before her stomach sloshed angrily again and brought on another wave of half digested chicken salad and a stream of tears.
âItâs ok. Youâre going to be fine. Donât fight it or youâll only feel worse,â Luka soothed, his mellow voice not doing as much as usual to calm Marinette down. Adrienâs hand was still stroking up her spine in long, slow strokes, no doubt feeling every time her body seized up in preparation for another potential expulsion.
âI-Iâm s-s-sorry. Iâm so - ugh - s-sorry,â she panted in the few minutes reprieve she was finally given, tear tracks still fresh down her cheeks and too embarrassed to lift her head up. Adrien pulled a tissue from his pocket to hand over once it seemed like the pause was finally going to last more than a few breaths.
âMaybe you should lay down for a bit,â Adrien suggested as Luka stood on Marinetteâs opposite side to loop an arm behind her waist.
âDo you think you can make it downstairs?â Luka asked.
Another cramp brought her to her knees before she could answer the question and she moaned, gripping the angry organ and sinking down against the railing helplessly. Her body was still trying to find anything left to bring up and wasnât satisfied at what it found. Once the pain finally eased again she nodded and let the boys help her down the stairs and away from the pounding music. She wasnât sure what sheâd expected but it wasnât being lead to Lukaâs bed.
âNo⌠no I donât want to get sick on your bed,â she protested weakly but the floating feeling in her limbs didnât give her much of a chance at pushing back as they sat her down, so she curled up over her knees instead with a pathetic whine. âThis is so embarrassing. Iâm sorry. Iâm so sorry,â she sniffled.
âNo more of that, Mari. You canât help food poisoning. Now try to get some rest and let us take care of you,â Luka said, his smile impossibly kind before moving to the other side of the room to bring over the trash can while Adrien sat next to her.
âYeah. Weâll take care of you, so donât worry about a thing. You donât need to feel embarrassed, so please stop crying,â he spoke softly and brushed away a tear. For someone whoâd had so little contact with other people his bedside manner took even Marinette by surprise. She wasnât graced with the time to ponder that thought anymore as her stomach lurched again, angry at being held at bay and she quickly pulled the trash bin to her chest and buried her face in it, sick splashing at the plastic lining disgustingly. The echoing gags and choking as her body struggled to bring up more vile sludge only made her feel worse. It sounded a million times louder to her than it probably was, but Adrien and Luka were both there to hear it.
This had to be the worst night of her entire life.
Luka moved the bin away once the moment of nausea had passed and offered her two tablets that she managed to choke down with a mouthful of water. She didnât have the energy to protest being pressed to lay down on the bed. Her stomach was still hanging in her throat but her head was spinning as much as the boat was rocking and she was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
When she woke up the room was dimly lit by a table lamp and there was something cool and wet draped over her forehead. A foggy haze drifted through her mind as she tried to process the quiet voices somewhere close, not sure where she was. Her limbs felt tied down to the bed but a sudden spike of nausea blew the fog away enough to tell her she needed to get up. That was about all it did as the most she could manage was sluggishly rolling over and heaving blindly over the side of the bed. She had no time to react as she slowly realized she was throwing up on Lukaâs floor and probably all over his bed and the tears were back, along with a gentle pair of hands roaming over her shoulders.
âEasy. Easy. Youâre alright,â Luka spoke next to her ear, far to calmly for someone who had someone currently vomiting on their floor. When the heaving finally stopped she realized not only had the small bin from earlier been replaced by a much larger bucket directly in the line of fire, but there were a handful of towels spread out underneath it. A smart choice, as even the large target hadnât managed to save the whole area. She was too tired to dissolve into any more tears at the mess and accepted the water Adrien offered her before collapsing back against the pillows with a groan.
âIâll clean thatâŚâ she mumbled, scrubbing at her face with one hand and wishing the bloated, cramping, nauseated feeling would lessen up for even a moment. The boys chuckled lightly at the delirious murmurings. Luka put the damp cloth back over Marinetteâs forehead and she looked up at them with hazy blue eyes. âWhat time is it?â she finally managed to ask the older boy hovering over her.
âNearly 11. You were out for a good few hours. You really needed the rest.â
âItâs that late?â she frowned and sat up slowly, her head spinning again at the motion and she closed her eyes, groaning. âOh no. I made you miss the whole party. Iâm sorry. And youâre dad finally let you come out, too,â she sniffled sadly.
âThereâll be other parties, Marinette. Are you feeling any better?â
âNo. Iâm really not,â she frowned and pulled her knees up to her chest, swallowing down the hollow, sick feeling still lingering. There was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to be curled up in the privacy of her own bathroom, suffering in solitude.
âLukaâs mom offered to let you spend the night, but if you want to go home, my driver and I can take you. Heâs waiting outside whenever youâre ready.â he offered as Luka started cleaning the towels on the floor away now that Marinette was awake. She watched him clean up and sighed, holding her stomach.
âI want to go home,â she moaned pathetically. âIâm sorry I ruined everything, but thank you for taking care of me like this. Iâm so sorry,â she apologized again. She was never going to be able to apologize enough. Luka just sighed and sat next to her, squeezing her knee.
âWhen youâre feeling better, weâre going to work on this compulsion for you to apologize for things out of your control,â he smiled and for the first time since the whole ordeal had started Marinette smiled back weakly.
ââŚSorry,â she quipped back.
Soon after she was slowly ushered off the houseboat, emergency trash bag in hand, and shuffled against Adrienâs side in the backseat of his car. The shared body heat of his arm draped around her shoulders was so good at easing the chills running along her spine that she couldnât pretend to not want to snuggle closer. She would have fallen asleep if the gentle curves of the Parisian roads werenât doing their best to set her stomach off again.
Adrienâs driver cast a worried glance in the rear-view mirror as she groaned and curled up tighter against Adrien, the color quickly draining from her face. She dared a glance outside the window to judge if she should ask the man to pull over or not, grateful that she didnât live far and that they were already pulling up to the bakery. She was pretty sure Adrien and his driver felt a similar surge of relief as the blonde helped her out and they made the painfully slow trek up the flights of stairs to her apartment.
It was midnight and the hallways were barely lit by the wall sconces. Marinette could hardly see straight as she dug through her purse, only finding her house keys with Tikiâs quiet help. Her stomach was swirling and that sickly rotten syrup coating was clinging to the back of her throat again. Her hand tightened around the trash bag, not sure if she could will her body to hold on long enough to get the door unlocked. Adrien took pity on her and swiftly took the keys from her hands to let them in. He excused the lack of thanks as Marinette hurried through the door lightening fast and threw herself into the bathroom in just enough time to heave up a fresh surge of stomach acid.
She was still hovering over the bowl, strings of sticky bile and saliva hanging from her lips when Adrien came in to join her. He flicked on the light forgotten light switch before kneeling next to her and resting his hand on her back as the other reached to brush her bangs from her forehead. Her body tightened again and Adrienâs hand was the only thing keeping her from leaning into the water as a weaker stream of bile dribbled past her lips.
It was like someone was try to wring her body of every last speck of food that could possibly be left behind. She spat into the dirty water, doing her best not to look at it as she panted over the surface, too afraid to pull away as her stomach quivered. Harsh chills shuddered along her body were forcing the already strained muscles of her abdomen dangerously taught. There couldnât possibly be anything left but somehow her body managed to keep finding something to bring up.
A handful of dry gags later and Adrien let his hand slip from her bangs, though the other never stopped rubbing her back.
âI think that might be it,â he said softly, wincing as Marinetteâs body challenged him by finding one last dribble of bile to add to the bowl. She moaned pathetically and reached up tiredly for the lever on the tank to flush the shame away.
âTell that to my stomach,â she rasped and wiped her mouth with a tissue before pulling back enough to rest her forehead against the rim of the toilet. The acid burned her throat as she tried to catch her breath and force the shaking to stop. She was so tired, and the aching in her stomach had only dulled slightly, replaced by the tired strain of an overworked muscle. It felt like sheâd just done 100 sit-ups.
She wasnât sure what time it was anymore or how much longer sheâd be stuck on the floor, worshiping her new god. Another cramp brought on a tired whimper and she only just caught the glass of water from the corner of her eye. She had no idea when Adrien had moved away to fill up the bathroom glass but the sight of it made her stomach lurch nervously all the same.
âN-no. I canât, Adrien. I canât,â she swallowed and closed her eyes as she tilted her head down as if that would help. âI just want this t-to st-stop,â she shivered and curled tighter into herself.
âYouâre getting dehydrated, you really need to drink something. Besides, it might feel better to have something in your stomach to⌠well⌠lose,â he said, wincing at the shudder the thought brought to Marinette as she shook her head again. He sighed and gently rubbed at her lower back.
âPlease? Just a sip? Get the taste out of your mouth at least.â
Marinette lifted tired eyes up to Adrien and the innocent glass of water, the pleading and concerned eyes meeting her exhausted gaze guilted her enough to slowly sit up and reach for the glass. Her shivering was so violent she couldnât hold onto the glass though and Adrien pulled it away, gently batting at her hand.
âLet me help,â he said tenderly and Marinette blushed despite herself as he pressed the rim of the glass against her parted lips. She managed a few swallows before pushing it away and shaking her head.
âThatâs enough,â she groaned as the water settled like ice in the pit of her stomach and gurgled away unhappily. She could almost image her insides folding in on themselves over the beverage, eager to have something more to toss around, but it had helped the stinging in her throat at least. Adrien didnât argue and promptly put the glass aside.
âCan I help you somewhere more comfortable? What about your bedroom?â
âNoâŚright here is good,â she whined and curled up closer to the bowl for emphasis. She held her breath against a hiccough and rested her hand against the slowly churning mass of her middle, praying that the worst was over. The room was spinning again and she closed her eyes against it for just a minute, but when she opened them Adrien had somehow shuffled his way to her bedroom for her blanket and gathered armfuls of pillows to lay on the floor.
Owlishly bright eyes watched Adrien concoct a little nest of pillows before he wrapped the blanket around Marinetteâs shivering frame. A light tug on her arm was all she needed to be coaxed into joining Adrien in his pile of pillows and curl back against his chest. The body heat was pure bliss and slowly eased up the trembling from her chills so the strain wasnât as bad on her stomach.
âIf weâre staying here then I can at least try to make you comfortable,â he smiled and brushed the fallen strands of dark blue hair from the girls eyes to tuck them behind her ears. âNow try to get some rest, Marinette.â
âThank you, Adrien,â she blushed and curled up closer, letting her eyes drift shut in the moment of relaxation and dozed again, the nausea dulling. She might have thought the moment was romantic as Adrien stroked her arm and held her as she slept. But of course, Marinetteâs luck would never be that good.
Any fuzzy warmth from the moment was ripped away by the cycle of jolting awake, heaving some magically renewed amount of stomach acid and water into the toilet not an hour later, (and every hour on the hour after that), well until dawn. Even Adrienâs well meaning patience had dipped after the 4th wake up call, and the exhaustion in his voice as he stroked her hair back and pressed glasses of water to her between bouts of vomiting matched Marinetteâs own frazzled emotions. By dawn she was ready to end it all and welcome the sweet peace of death, because clearly this was how she was going to die. Â
Sabine and Tom werenât entirely sure what to think when they walked in a few hours after sunrise to find their daughter asleep in front of the toilet, half curled into her blanket and the blonde model sprawled on a bed of pillows against the bathroom wall. They quietly closed the door, deciding to wait for the pair to wake up on their own to tell them about the harrowing trials of the chicken salads revenge.
It was a long while before Marinette or Adrien went anywhere near another piece of chicken again.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
New story posted to my main writing account :) finally trying to finish some things. Not a sick fic, but if you like angsty little cats, enjoy ^_^
Summery: Christmas without his mother had been hard enough, but Adrien never expected New Years to feel even worse. When his dad won't speak to him he tries to close himself off, but Marinette reminds him that he can always rely on his friends for comfort and a shoulder to cry on when the world gets to be too much.
Click the link or read more below :)
Adrien sighed, lost in a fuzzy cloud of half-thoughts as he stared blankly at his ceiling. Even scrolling through the pictures in his phone was too much effort at the moment. The smiling face that normally comforted him only seemed to make the tightness in his chest worsen.
âCâmon, Adrien. Stop sulking. Youâll feel better if you do something!â Plagg coached, hovering around Adrienâs head. The blonde sighed and shrugged, rolling his eyes towards his kwami. He knew he could talk to the cat, but whatever he said Plagg wouldnât understand it. Instead Adrien rolled over, hugging his pillow and closing his eyes.
âCanât I just lay here for once? Youâre the one always telling me to be lazy. Well, here it is. Iâm being lazy,â he mumbled. Plaggâs ears drooped. He knew Adrien missed his mom and the Christmas holiday had been hard for him, but Plagg thought his friend would have been over it after how happy heâd been with his friends that night.
âWhat about that party Alyaâs having?â Plagg suggested hopefully. As if on queue Adrienâs phone buzzed with a text from Nino to make sure he was still going to the party that night. Adrien frowned and tossed the phone to the side, not able to make himself take the time to write back. He wanted to go, but the thought was exhausting. As much as he knew sitting in bed and wallowing wouldnât change anything, having to act all happy and cheery for the party was beyond him.Happy, party atmosphere. The normal perky guy he was but couldnât remember how to be. Thatâs what they would expect.
There was a fist gripping around his chest tighter and tighter as he watched the clock tick by, chastising him that he needed to answer his friend before he could think there was something wrong. Heâd excepted the invitation quickly in hopes the party would help distract him from his thoughts but heâd underestimated how badly New Yearâs Eve was going to affect him. He buried his face into his pillow further to hide away from reality for a few more minutes.
It didnât help that his dad had been holed away since that Christmas dinner with his friends. Adrien thought he might have opened up a little after that. Maybe they could have talked about his mom, or spent some time together for once. He knew his father had to be upset too, but for all their shared pain the man couldnât (or wouldnât ), express it to his son. That might have been the only reason Adrien sat up and texted Nino back.
Staying in the same house as his father while being ignored made things even worse. His mother would have been singing songs and getting a party of her own together. She would have decorated the house to the nines and then some. Thereâd be burnt cookies that sheâd giggle about before letting the chiefâs make a new batch, and warm arms pulling him close whenever he came within reach.
The emptiness of the house was palpable. A heavy black curtain hung about the home where bright lights and cheer should have been. Even the Christmas tree still sitting in their foyer that Adrien had so painstakingly decorated felt cold and lifeless in the stark entryway. The mansion could only drain every ounce of happiness away.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and swiped at his eyes before texting Nino to see if he was free to hang out before the party. He needed to get out of the house before it suffocated what life he had left in him.
An afternoon of video games with his best friend had mostly cheered him up. Being free from the stifling mansion and able to ignore the absence of his father helped dull the tightness in his chest; so long as his mind didnât wander. The sharp cold wind blowing at his cheeks while they made their way to Alyaâs for the evening helped as a distraction. Part of him wondered if Hawkmoth would sense the dark cloud hanging around him and send an akuma after him. Adrien wasnât entirely sure heâd be able to resist if he did.
âAdrien!â
âWhat?â Adrien was pulled out of his daze long enough to catch the concern ghosting across Ninoâs face before it brightened again and he was nudged in the arm .
âI asked if there was anyone you wanted to catch under the mistletoe tonight,â he grinned. The snow whipped around them and Adrien tucked his nose deeper into the fuzzy blue scarf heâd gotten for his birthday.
âNot really?â
âChloe?â Nino chuckled, amused by the screech he earned in reply.
âNo! You know I donât like her like that!â Adrien groaned, grateful for the conversation. Nino laughed loudly and shoved his hands in his pockets before side-eyeing the blonde.
âSo thereâs no one? Not even⌠I donât know⌠Marinette maybe?â he offered. Adrien couldnât explain the sudden skip of his heartbeat and shook his head.
âN-no. I mean, why?â he asked, glaring at Nino playfully. Nino shrugged and scratched his nose with a gloved finger.
âNo reason. Sheâs not dating anyone. And sheâs cute. Why wouldnât you want to kiss her? Besides, if you could sidetrack Marinette I might be able to get Alya alone.â
âOoooh. So thereâs the real reason!â Adrien laughed and shoved his friend lightly. âDude, sheâs youâre girlfriend. You really think she wonât kiss you?â
âWell, we havenât kissed yet! And I thought⌠I dunno⌠you know⌠a New Yearâs kiss under the  mistletoeâŚâ he mumbled.
âIâm sure youâll get a kiss. Donât worry about it too much.â
âWhoâs going to get a kiss?â Alyaâs voice pipped up loud and clear from behind the boys who froze and squawked in surprise.
âAlya! I didnât⌠Hi! We were just⌠why are you guys here?â Nino stuttered with a mad blush while his girlfriend giggled and looped her arm into Marinetteâs.
âI was helping with the pastry boxes. Marinetteâs dad baked us a regular feast tonight. Right, Marinette? Weâll hardly need dinner.â
Marinetteâs eyes glanced up to Adrien then down to the boxes in her arms.
âIâŚum.. I told him not to make so much butâŚâ
âLet me help,â Adrien smiled and took the top box out of Marinetteâs arms. She stuttered out a thank you and the four made their way up to the apartment. Adrien easily fell into step by Marinette with Ninoâs joking going to his head. What would Marinette do if he did try to kiss her under the mistletoe that night? Heâd never kissed anyone before. He wasnât even sure if heâd be good at it! Marinette probably wouldnât like it anyway, they were only friends after all. And she was so shy, he didnât want to put her on the spot. No, it was better left an idle thought.
Helping to set up for the party had been another blessed distraction for him. He found himself offering to do anything he could to keep himself busy and his thoughts clear. Once people had started showing up he tried to be as jovial as he could manage. It was his first New Yearâs party with friends and that much made it easier to bare.
The music was loud, the food was good, the company was warm and inviting and Adrien felt himself wishing it wouldnât end. But all to soon the count down started and everyone huddled off together. Rose and Juleka; Alya and Nino; Nat off drawing on the couch next to Alix; Myleen with Ivan. Marinette hovered between the couch and Adrien but Adrien hardly noticed. As the clock counted down the swirling darkness that heâd pushed away for so long was creeping back up to him.
His throat closed and his chest tightened as the ball dropped and the room burst out in cheering, hugs, and kisses. He didnât notice Alya pulling Nino in for their first kiss or the worried eyes from Marinette as he stared off into the void. Everything was going to come to a close soon and then heâd have to go back to his quiet room in his quiet house and sit in the dark. He swallowed and clenched his fists as the world teetered. It felt like everything was falling sideways and he wasnât sure which way was up anymore.
Suddenly a warm hand took his wrist and the world straightened again. Marinette was frowning gently and tugging his wrist discreetly to follow her out. Adrien didnât question her as he was led outside of the party and the noise was drowned out behind the door. He took a deep breath and the warmth around his wrist was gone.
âWhat⌠uh⌠did youâŚâ Adrien didnât know what to ask. His mind was still reeling, moments away from being swallowed by the pit heâd been running from for days. His thoughts were in chaos and his heart was hammering against his ribs, all while his body felt numb and lifeless. Â
âYou looked like you needed to get out of there. Are you alright?â she asked carefully. Adrien looked down and nodded, trying to force a smile on.
âY-Yeah. IâmâŚâ he felt the heat stinging behind his eyes and quickly looked up at the lights to stop himself from crying when one of Alyaâs neighbors came out of their apartment cheering. A few more joined them and Adrien stiffened. Everything was too overwhelming and he couldnât keep himself together.
âLetâs go somewhere quieter. Follow me,â Marinette spoke gently and took his hand again. Marinetteâs touch sent a comfortable warmth through him that magically pushed the darkness further and made breathing a little easier. She lead them up a staircase to the roof of the building and the blissful quiet enveloped them. The cold bit at his fingertips but Adrien didnât care.
âThanks,â he said softly and made his way over to the tall ledge. He leaned on it, looking out over the city lights sparkling brightly and the fireworks going up behind the Eiffel Tower. He felt Marinette join him, quietly gazing at the scenery by his side.
The tightness swelled in his chest again as he remembered watching these same fireworks from their rooftop with his mother. There special time together in the festivities as far back as he could remember. Sheâd pull him aside and take him to the roof so they could take in the New Year, just the two of them. The pressure was building and he was afraid even the slightest slip would send him spiraling, and yet he found himself speaking as if his mind had enough and couldnât keep in one more thought in silence.
âHave you ever felt completely alone?â Adrien asked, clenching his fists against the cement barrier. Marinette watched him carefully, trying to understand where Adrien was coming from. âHave you ever felt⌠completely numbâŚto everything?â he swallowed, not sure why he was suddenly saying this. He felt ready to burst, and Marinette always felt so safe to talk to.
He didnât expect her to answer with a quiet âyesâ, or for her to twine her warm fingers over his own ice cold ones. It jolted him enough to at least look up at her, eyes damp and warm and disbelieving.
âReally?â
âYes,â she spoke quietly and her eyes briefly darted to their hands and then the scenery. They skittered around for the least awkward point of focus she could manage as he waited patiently for her to continue. If she would continue. He could see the hesitation shimmering in her eyes and was ready to tell her she didnât need to continue. He shouldnât have asked. He didnât know why heâd said anything at all.
Her fingers tightened around his hand reassuringly and the hesitation melted away into determination. His breath caught in his throat as her soft blue eyes met his with such steadiness that all he could do was meet her gaze.
âI know what loneliness can feel like. But, even if it feels like it wonât, talking to people can help. Itâs hard sometimes, but if you donât let anyone know youâre hurting, no one can help you.â
His breath hitched quietly and he looked back down at their hands, watching them swim in his vision. He was going to break in two, he was sure of it. The pain in his chest would split him in half and that would be it.
âHow do you start?â he asked pitifully in a small, tight voice. Marinette saw the need for a gentle push, the hanging tears in Adrienâs eyes breaking her heart. She shifted to try to get in Adrienâs line of sight again.
âWherever you want to. What do you feel right now?â she prompted, a little shocked when the tears finally fell and Adrien clenched her hand back tightly.
âLike Iâm going to fall apart,â he spoke finally, voice quivering and quiet. âLikeâŚI canât breath,â he shuddered on a hitched breath and a short sob. âIt hurts so much,â he sobbed and pulled his hand away to pull his elbows up onto the wall and hide his face in his hands. âI didnât⌠I didnât think it c-could hurt s-so much.â His fingers tightened in his bangs as the pain grew sharper and holding back the sobs became impossible. He tried to rein himself in but it was too late to try. The reservoir of emotions was filled to the brim without him realizing it and the dam was cracking. He could feel his chest shattering along with it and completely embarrassed that he was losing control of himself like this in front of someone else.
Marinette watched the boy she loved fall apart in front of her helplessly but desperate to do something. She knew how painful that pit of darkness could be, and only wished sheâd known sooner how far Adrien had sunk into it. It didnât matter if she knew the cause at the moment or not, Adrien needed her. He needed to know he wasnât alone.
âIâm right here, Adrien. Iâm not going anywhere,â she said and stroked a hand bravely up Adrienâs quivering back. She stepped closer, continuing to stroke his back while squeezing his arm with the other hand. She didnât know how close she could be, but Adrien hadnât pushed her away and all she wanted to do was pull him against her and let him cry as long as he needed to. She brushed at his hair tenderly before untangling one of his hands from his bangs.
âYou donât need to hide from me. I wonât tell anyone anything. Nothing leaves this roof. Even if all you want to do is cry, Iâm here.â Her voice was firm and Adrien knew he could trust her. The quiet tears sliding down his cheeks froze in the winter air and all he wanted was to feel the warmth Marinette could give him. Slowly he closed the distance between them, his forehead thumping against her shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut and let the tears cascade down his cheeks; heavy sobs punctuated the silence of the night air.
She didnât say anything else as her arms wrapped around Adrienâs shoulders and he was grateful for the support as the wave of his emotions finally crashed and broke against the shore. He felt everything and nothing all at once and clutched to Marinette for dear life as the feeling threatened to break him to pieces. He didnât know how to handle it but Marinette held him together. Warm fingers in his hair. Soft words of comfort in his ear. A steady pillar to brace himself against. He hadnât had any of those things after his mother disappeared and had forgotten what it felt like for someone to be there without any expectations from him.
He wasnât sure how long they stood there before the pain eased from his chest and the tears slowed down. The fireworks had ended long ago and his fingers were frozen. He was sure Marinette must have been cold as ice but she didnât complain. She only brushed at his damp cheek with a handkerchief (self monogrammed, he noticed), and helped him sit down to catch his breath and steady his shaking limbs. Her touch had lessened and Adrien almost wanted to ask her to hold his hand again, if only for the tie to the here-and-now.
âIâm sorry,â he sniffled quietly, âI didnât know I would get like this.â
âAdrienâŚâ she started softly, trying to decide if it was better to pry or leave things alone. Adrien decided to save her the struggle.
âMy mom⌠disappeared one year ago today.â he admitted quietly, surprised at the weight removed from his chest simply by speaking those words. Theyâd been as heavy as lead on his tongue. Heâd hardly spoken about it since. Heâd never been given the chance and he felt awkward now that he did, but the dam had shattered and his head was fuzzy from the rush of it.
âI didnât know it was today. Iâm so sorry.â
âMy dad doesnât talk about it. I havenât even seen him since Christmas!â Adrien growled, surprising himself by the sudden burst of anger. âHe thinks by not talking about it it will make it seem like she never disappeared but⌠but it doesnât. It makes it worse. Heâs never there. She left and nothingâs been right since. I just miss her so much. Every day. This time last year we were together. We watched the fireworks together. She hugged me.â Adrien sniffled and wiped at his eyes again. He pulled his knees to his chest, feeling so small and helpless.
Marinette shifted closer, brushing their shoulders together and waiting for Adrien to add any more to the story. It was clear these feelings had only peaked because of the anniversary, but had been brewing behind his warm facade for a while. She didnât have words to make him feel better and she knew it. There wasnât any magic word or phrase. Adrien didnât need her to tell him it would âget betterâ. None of that mattered so she kept close instead.
Adrien felt the slight shiver from the girl next to him and straightened up, leaning closer to her and enjoying the comfort. He knew they should go inside, but he was a mess still and didnât want to face the crowd asking what happened. He was afraid to be that vulnerable to so many people at once. Even speaking to Marinette the emotions felt too raw and painful and he was thankful for the silent support. He didnât think he could handle any real conversation about it. Not yet. But there was something left he felt compelled to ask.
âYou said⌠youâve felt alone like this before?â he ventured carefully, eyeing Marinette and feeling strangely like it was something he shouldnât ask. It was hard to believe the bright, energetic girl he knew could ever have gotten so low.
âNothing leaves this roof, right?â she asked with a curious glance to Adrien who nodded solemnly. She sighed and looked back at her hands.
âI havenât even told Alya,â she started, feeling exposed but like she had to share after prying herself. âI think it was at its worst last year. Iâve always been shy and clumsy. I didnât make many real friends before Alya. I never felt part of it all. I couldnât find a way to connect to anyone. It all felt so fake and like no one really needed me there or wanted me there and all I could do was smile and pretend everything was fine.â she sighed and concentrated on a snowflake as it drifted down and melted on her hand.
âIt felt like I had no one. Sometimes I couldnât sleep. I couldnât breath. It felt like there was a crushing darkness pressing down on me and I couldnât show it. And then it just got worse knowing that I only had myself to blame for it.â
âI had no idea. Youâre so happy all the time.â Adrien blinked and Marinette smiled wryly.
âI tried so hard to change that this year. I needed to change it and no one could do it but me. And then I met Alya and someâŚâ she paused to smile to herself, âSome miraculous things changed in my life and the clouds finally started to part.â Marinette took a breath and finally looked back up at Adrien kindly.
âSo I know what itâs like to feel alone, but you have friends now. Weâre all here to help you and listen when you feel like you canât take it anymore. We care about you. If youâre sad or angry or happy, you can tell us. Always. We might not understand how much it hurts, but if we can make it even a little bit easier, thatâs enough. Itâs a moment youâre not alone. And trust me, it helps so much when you finally let people in.â
For the first time that night Adrien didnât feel alone. He wasnât alone in his feelings, and he wasnât by himself. He knew he could talk to his friends, but somehow he hadnât been able to. He still didnât think he could open up like this to Nino or Alya, but Marinette was different. Maybe because they were so alike. Maybe that was why he felt so at ease around her? He smiled and took her hand into his, trying to warm it up.
âThank you, Marinette. I really needed to hear that tonight.â He smiled sadly and they sat in silence a moment as the snow started drifting down more heavily and the chill in the air sharpened. Â
âI guess we should go back inside. Youâre going to get sick,â he finally said, squeezing Marinetteâs frozen fingers for emphasis.
âMe? I think youâre shivering more,â she giggled and stood up, blushing brightly as Adrien didnât let go of her hand. She turned towards the door but a gentle tug pulled her back.
âMarinette?â Adrien started, stopped, then looked up from his feet and tried again, âYou know youâre not alone anymore either, right? Not just Alya, you have me, too. And Nino. Youâre not just smiling anymore, are you?â he asked and Marinette smiled brightly, shaking her head.
âNo. Itâs real now. Sometimes they come back, but my dark clouds passed. Yourâs will too, eventually.â
They made their way back down the stairwell quietly. The heaviness that had settled around them earlier had lifted completely. Adrien felt so much lighter, even if the pain of knowing his mother was gone still lingered. If he couldnât have his fatherâs comfort, at least he could have his friends. When they opened Alyaâs door the rest of their classmates had left already. Alya and Nino were the only ones sitting on the couch waiting for them.
âDude! Where did you go?â
âSeriously, Marinette! We were worried. You were gone for like, an hour. You left your phones. We couldnât find you,â Alya glared at her friends, then saw how red Adrienâs eyes were. Adrien caught her stare and stiffened, rubbing at his eyes and trying to look away too late. Â Anger forgotten she cast a wide-eyed glance between the two and then Nino who also hadnât missed the obvious signs that Adrien had been crying.
âHey, what happened? Are you alright?â
âYeah, Iâmââ Adrien stopped and shook his head. âNo, I really wasnât. But Iâm better now. Itâs just the anniversary of the day⌠my momâŚâ
Nino didnât need Adrien to finish but before Adrien could look up his friend had him in a tight hug.
âWhy didnât you say something? I knew something was up today, but I had no idea,â He pulled back and Adrien smiled. âIâm here for you, man. Any time. Thatâs what best buds are for, right?â
âRight. Thanks. Sorry I didnât tell you.â
âOh and uh, by the way,â Nino grinned and pointed at the doorway above Adrien And Marinette. A bundle of Mistletoe hung from the frame and the pair blushed. Alya grinned smartly and crossed her arms.
âCâmon. Itâs tradition. And youâve been standing there for 5 minutes!â
âN-no! Itâs ok! You donât have to! I mean if you want⌠but⌠no! Iâ Alya!â Marinette waved frantically but stood stock still when a gentle pair of lips pressed lightly against hers. Her brain stopped working as she looked into the red-tinged eyes of the boy sheâd held moments ago. He pulled away and smiled shyly, scratching his neck as he looked away.
Title: Worst House Guest
Series: Hikaru no Go
Characters: Shindou Hikaru x Touya Akira
Warnings: Vomit
Short little fic. Touya and Hikaruâs usual game gets interrupted by the return of some not-so-agreeable fast food.
It wasnât often that Touya came over to Hikaruâs to play Go. Usually theyâd meet at the Go salon his father owned. Or when Touyaâs family would leave for China for one of his fathers matches, Hikaru would spend the weekend and theyâd study their game as much as they could without interruption. This time though, Touya had come over to Hikaruâs.
It was a treat that Hikaruâs family had gone out the day before to stay with his grandfather after heâd slipped and hurt his back. They would be away a few days to help take care of him, and that left the pair all alone to play to their hearts content! Except, the game wasnât really going the way it usually did. Hikaru frowned as he studied the board, picking out moves that he knew Touya would never play on a normal day.
âTouya, are you alright?â
The other teenager looked up from the Go board at the question, face pale and fingers trembling over the bowl of stones.
âOf course,â he said and pulled his hand back to curl it over his knee. Hikaru didnât miss the subtle way his throat bobbed with an uneasy swallow, or the stiffness in his shoulders that had slowly developed over the last hour as they played. Hikaru hummed in disbelief and sat back, eyeing his friend up and down closely.
Touya shifted under the stare with a blush, tilting his head to let the curtain of straight-cut raven bangs hide his face.
âTouya,â Hikaru urged again, finally getting a sigh from the other boy as he let his hand drift over his stomach.
âAlright. Maybe I am feeling a little off,â he admitted quietly. He shifted again, his guard faltering as he took a shallow breath and carefully moved away to lean against the side of Hikaruâs bed. The blonde-banged boy frowned more and moved over to his friend, sitting next to him and reaching out to check for a fever. Nothing.
âYou seemed alright earlier. Is it just your stomach?â he asked, noting the way both of Touyaâs arms had migrated around his stomach as he pulled his knees up defensively.
âI donât know whatâs wrong with me. Maybe lunch didnât settle well,â he admitted and Hikaru thought it was more than ânot settledâ. Touya was looking paler by the second, the normal healthy pink hue turning a dull gray. It was like watching someone slowly turning down the saturation on an old TV set.
âMaybe. I had the same thing and Iâm fine,â he shrugged, frowning as Touya bent over his knees more, shrinking into a smaller ball. He reached a hand out to stroke along his friends back a few times, wishing he could do more. Almost on cue Touyaâs stomach let out a nauseas gurgle and they both flushed pink; Hikaru from nerves and Touya from embarrassment at his bodies disgusting sounds.
âIâll find you some medicine. Try to relax for a bit,â Hikaru offered, hurrying out of the room. If his parents were around he was sure his mom would know what to do, but Hikaru felt clueless. He dug around the cabinet in the kitchen where they kept all of the medicine, grabbing all of the medicine that even mentioned upset stomachs. If it really was food poisoning his poor friend was in for a rough night away from home.
When Hikaru got back to his room with the promised medicine and glass of water Touya was missing. He blinked at the empty spot Hikaru had left him in before a quiet gagging echoed down the hall. He bristled at the sound, dreading the sight heâd find in the bathroom as he tiptoed closer. The door was still ajar and he took a steadying breath.
âTouya? Are you ok?â he asked as he pushed the door open slowly, peaking in first just in case Touya would rather be alone. The sight of his friend huddled next to the toilet, body trembling and hair curtaining his face was heartbreaking. Hikaru swallowed his nerves and set the items heâd brought on the counter before kneeling next to Touya and brushing his hair back.
âThis looks like you feel more than just âa little offâ you know,â he teased gently and tucked the otherâs hair behind his ears. From the looks of it he hadnât been sick yet, but Hikaru had a feeling it wasnât far off. Touya just moaned pathetically and curled up around his stomach more. Hikaru wished Touya had said something sooner. He might have been able to take some medicine to settle his stomach before it reached this point.
Hikaru didnât think it was possible, but somehow Touyaâs face paled more. He was nearly bone white as he shuddered and hurried to lean over the toilet again, heaving weakly and clutching the rim. Hikaru felt a shiver go down his spine but he sucked it up, reaching to pull back his friendâs hair and resting a hand on his quivering shoulders.
âItâs ok. Youâll feel better once itâs out of your system,â he tried to encourage but Touya still seemed to be fighting the inevitable. He gasped for breath, eyes closed.
âYou donât have to sit here,â he choked out, pressing a hand over his mouth. âThis isâŚdisgusting,â he groaned. Hikaru couldnât argue that, but he couldnât just leave Touya like this either.
âDonât worry about it. What are friends for besides holding your hair back?â he laughed lightly, rubbing Touyaâs shoulders. âI think itâs supposed to be when youâre drunk, but whoâs keeping track?â
If Touya had anything else to add it was lost in another body tightening heave, finally bringing up a mouthful of half digested lunch into the toilet with a sickening splash. Hikaruâs hair stood on end at the sound and he felt heat rush to his face before he looked away, focusing on rubbing Touyaâs back and keeping his hair from his face.
âThere. Not so bad, right?â he said shakily, only earning another heave in response. The tension in Touyaâs shoulders was unbelievable and Hikaru did his best to try and ease the stiffness but it was useless. Just when he thought Touya might be done another convulsion of his stomach brought on a new wave of sick.
âIâm never taking you to McDonalds again,â Hikaru frowned, adjusting his hold on the smooth dark locks starting to slip through his fingers. Touya was panting over the water, spitting the remains of acid from his mouth.
âGood. Because Iâm ne -â he paused to gag fruitlessly but painfully, âNever eating there again,â he finished and propped himself up on his elbows against the toilet seat, resting his forehead in his palm. Hikaru continued rubbing his back until Touyaâs breathing began to even and the deathly white pallor of his skin began to fade back to something more human and peachy.
Eventually Touya pried himself away from the bowl to curl back up against the wall. Hikaru flushed away the evidence and grabbed the water and medicine from the counter, holding them out to the slowly recovering boy.
âFeeling any better? Think you could keep down some medicine?â he asked, only earning a tired nod. Hikaru measured out a dose in the little cup and handed it over. Akira braced himself to put anything else in his system but downed it in one quick gulp. He shuddered but otherwise managed to keep it down.
âIâm sorry,â he spoke quietly, voice crackling from the last half hour of vomiting. He cleared his throat, âNot a very good house guest,â he smiled half heartedly, resting his forehead back on his knees.
âDonât worry about it. Do you want to lay down?â Hikaru offered, âWe have tomorrow to play all the Go we want if youâre feeling better,â he smiled. Touya nodded and let Hikaru help him up and take him back to the bedroom to lay down. Hikaru frowned when Touya immediately curled up but otherwise closed his eyes without any other argument. Hikaru shuffled around his room quietly and placed the trashcan near the bed just in case before clearing away the goban.
âShindou,â Touya breathed from the bed, cracking his eyes open, a soft blush on his cheeks. Hikaru paused and looked up, âThank you.â
âNo problem,â he said before pausing and grinning widely, Â âSo, what do you want for dinner?â Hikaru asked cheekily before receiving a pillow promptly to the face. Touya was well on the road to recovery.
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