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bellysoupset · 2 days

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I’d love a story with sick Angie (it doesn’t matter what it is) with the emphasis on Jonah as her caretaker. And I’d love it if you could write about what Jon said in that vertigo fic, were Luke was the only caretaker, about feeling like he doesn’t know Angie.

Hi there! I had a lot of fun typing this up, it's a bit more tender than my usual stuff, since Jonah's is slightly off his element!

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There were things Jonah knew how to do: read Leo like a book, feel Wendy’s annoyance from across a room, suture a wound with an eye closed. And then there were things that he didn’t…

Currently the issue was understanding what was going through his little sister’s mind.

It hurt to say out loud, but Angie was half family, half stranger. She had been only ten when Jonah left for college, however during five of those ten years they supposedly shared, he had been away in boarding school, coming home only three times a year. In sum, he had truly known Angie only for five of her seventeen years.

It had been a pleasant surprise to learn she didn’t think of him as some stranger, but as her brother, and that she wanted them to be close. Or, as Leo had put, “Jon, she worships you.”

Since Christmas last year, they had been chatting much more frequently and she had come over to Welton at the end of January, staying over at Jonah and Leo’s place for three days.

This time around she was supposed to stay all week, which Jon was equally nervous and excited about.

“I’m the one who should be nervous,” Leo had joked as they drove to pick Angie up at the airport, “not you.”

However Jonah was nervous, because despite never wanting to say this out loud — and not needing to, Leo knew it already — he was terribly invested into making this new relationship work out.

Normally Angelina was a bubbly, chatty teenager, never quite managing to contain her excitement. During her last visit, she had pestered JD so much that the cat had all but vanished during her last day over, hiding in Leo’s side of the closet.

Tonight she was sullen and Jonah was nearly crawling up the wall trying to figure out what had changed.

After picking her up at the airport, they had opted for having dinner in Portland instead of doing the full one hour and a half drive back to Welton without eating. Dinner had gone smoothly, Angie was a little quieter than usual, but Jonah had jolted this as her giving Leo time to gush about the proposal, something she seemed very interested in. Her whole face had lit up as she saw the engagement ring and she had pushed her chair closer in order to inspect it, pulling Leo into a hug that had the blonde’s face turning beet red, much to Jon’s amusement.

The drive back had been even more quiet.

“Why don’t you connect your phone with the radio, Angie?” Leo asked, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He was mortified of getting carsick in front of his future sister-in-law, so he had insisted on driving both ways, “pick some music for the ride.”

“No, it’s fine…” Angelina answered, curling up on the backseat, “I think I’m just gonna nap, if you don’t mind…”

“No, that’s alright,” Jonah turned on the passenger seat, “there must be a neck pillow stuffed behind my seat, is it there?”

“Yeah,” she retrieved it and kicked off her sneakers, spreading out in the back, “thanks, Jon.”

He turned back to face the road. Something was off and he wasn’t sure what.

“Relax,” Leo poked his side, a couple minutes later, whispering, “chill.”

“I am chill,” Jonah lied, not putting any effort behind it and once again looking over his shoulder, to where his sister had curled up in the backseat.

They got home without a hitch, Leo had put on one of his ultra romantic songs and was drumming along with Michael Bolton’s Missing You Now, much to Jonah’s eternal amusement. His fiance couldn’t keep up with the beat if they paid him.

“Baby I just can't wait! Till I see your face,” Leo leaned in to sing to him, as they parked, a cheeky smile on his face, “chase awaaay this loneliness insideee!”

Jonah snorted, shutting him up with a kiss, “oh God, shut up, Leo,” his cheeks heated up as the song ended and the initial lyrics of the When A Man Loves a Woman started playing, Leo getting ready to serenade him, pointing at Jon’s chest as he said, “When a man loves a woman. Can't keep his mind on nothin'else-”

“Leeeeo,” Jonah groaned, pushing his door open, but not getting out. Instead he turned on his seat to shake Angelina awake. He half expected her to be awake and giggling at the whisper concert Leo was making, but no, she was still sleeping soundly, “Angie. Angie, we’re here.”

It took him shaking her once more, before she woke up, looking completely lost for a minute.

“Where-”

“Let’s go inside so you can sleep in a proper bed,” Jonah circled the car, helping her out and raised his eyebrows, letting out a surprised noise when Angie collapsed against him and made no movement to pull away. He hesitantly lowered his arms around her in a makeshift hug, unsure of what to do.

Leo grinned at him, getting out of the car as well and going to retrieve Angie’s bags.

She barely let go of him, putting only enough distance that they were able to walk to the elevator, but snuggled back once they were inside. Jonah felt like his face was tingling and he couldn’t bring himself to meet Leo’s eyes, extremely embarrassed.

This time around, Angelina paid no mind to JD. The cat came running to greet them at the door, only to stop once she saw the girl and sniffling her suspiciously, serpentining between Angie’s legs and settling for meowing at Leo’s feet as if asking who this was.

Jonah fully expected his sister to grab JD like she had done last time, but instead she only yawned and waited patiently as he guided her to the guest room.

“You know where’s everything, right?” Jonah hung awkwardly at the door, once Leo put the bag inside and Angie sat down on the bed. She yawned again, nodding.

“Yeah…”

“There’s extra towels in the bathroom if you feel like taking a shower,” Jonah grimaced at his inability to sound as warm as he was supposed to, “and you don’t have to ask to go through the fridge…”

“I’m fine, Jon, thank you,” Angelina dismissed him easily, “I think I’m just gonna sleep, though.”

“Okay…” he glanced at the television, “there’s Netflix and Prime and Max-”

“Jon,” Leo grabbed his elbow, chuckling, “let the girl sleep. Goodnight Ange.”

“Goodnight,” Angie smiled at them, clearly agreeing with Leo and Jonah sighed, relenting and allowing the blonde to pull him out of the guest bedroom.

“It’s only nine o’clock,” Jonah complained as they entered their own bedroom, Leo already ahead of him in the bathroom, stripping for a shower. They were both still in work clothes, “what type of teenager falls asleep at nine?”

“Your sister’s type,” Leo shrugged, getting under the shower stream, “relax Jon, she’s probably just tired after the flight.”

Jonah didn’t quite believe that.

They ended up going to bed around eleven, so Jon was surprised when he woke up at only 6 AM, an hour before his alarm. He wasn’t sure why he was up. It was a Thursday, which meant Leo had court and would start working later, but would also be held up until whatever hour. The blonde was passed out next to him, head buried in the pillow.

Jon’s shift only started at 9…

He yawned, rubbing a hand over his face and getting up to pee. He was getting back in bed, when a noise down the hall caught his attention. Something falling?

It wasn’t JD, because the cat was happily asleep on Leo’s side.

Jonah got out of the bed to investigate and wasn’t surprised when he found the guest bedroom door open, or the guest bathroom door closed. He knocked on it softly, “Angie, you alright? I heard something falling…”

“Urgh…” was the pitiful answer he got, “Jon…”

Well, shit.

“Can I come in?” he asked nervously, biting the skin of his thumb, “Angie?”

“Hmmm…yeah…”

Jonah didn’t wait for an answer and pushed the door open.

Angelina was really skinny with long limbs, like a model, and currently she was folded like an origami project in front of the toilet. Her rich, dark skin looked damn near ashen, and she had a trembling hand on the porcelain, the other pressing to her lips.

“Don’t… I don’t feel good…”

“Oh darling,” Jonah sighed, feeling a selfish wave of relief wash over him at finally being able to pinpoint what was wrong and that it wasn’t him. He crouched down, “have you been sick yet?”

Angie shook her head, gulping down, “soon…” she leaned in, squeezing her eyes shut, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- To-” she got interrupted by a hiccup and Jonah scoffed, scooting closer so he could rub her back.

“Don’t apologize, it’s all right,” he cringed as he realized her really long, curly hair was getting near her mouth. They didn’t have a single scrunchie in their place.

At Bella’s advice, or rather, order, they had stocked the guest bathroom with pads, just in case — that had been an interesting little grocery trip, given neither of them had any idea of what they were doing and Leo looked positively mortified —, but the ginger hadn’t said anything about hair ties.

“Jon-” Angie whined, oblivious to his thoughts and leaning further over the toilet. Another sick hiccup shook her entire frame, this one turning into a gag at the end and Jonah cringed as he saw clear saliva hit the water.

“You’re okay,” he carefully pulled his sister’s hair back with one hand, the other staying firmly on her back, “just get it up, don’t fight it-”

She retched once more, before getting up to her knees, and burying her head in the bowl as vomit gushed out. The movement was so sudden that Jonah had to move as well, so he wouldn’t pull on her hair.

He gagged as he heard the horrible noise of his sister bringing up last night’s dinner, his stomach souring considerably as she pulled back, clumsily trying to flush, with vomit clinging to her bottom lip still.

“God-” Jonah pulled back the hand that was on her back, slapping it over his lips and biting down a retch of his own. Angelina let out a little hurt noise, much like JD did when they accidentally tripped on her.

“I’m sorry-” his voice came out husky, “shit, Angie, I’m sorry-”

“You’re sick too?” she managed to flush and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, causing Jonah to gag once more. He shook his head, gulping convulsively to keep his stomach in check.

He was so used to Leo, that someone else puking around him was news to his body. The routine was different, the noises too. Worse.

“No, I just-” Jonah cleared his throat, “I get sympathy sick.”

“Oh,” Angie’s big chocolate eyes were dazed and he suspected she was burning up a fever, “I’m sor-”

“Are you done?”

“I dunno,” she rubbed her stomach, uneasily, “don’t wanna risk going to bed and- And getting sick…”

“We can sit on the couch and watch TV,” Jonah offered, getting up to grab her a glass of water and Angie took it with her hands shaking. Jon took advantage of the fact her hands were busy, in order to feel his sister’s forehead.

Surprisingly, she didn’t flinch or pull back at the sudden touch, leaning completely on it. She was really warm.

“Not a high fever, but a fever,” he pulled back after a second, as Angie gulped down the water and hung over the toilet once more, letting out a sickly burp, “you’ll be okay on your own for a second?”

“Uh-hu,” she nodded, gagging but not bringing up anything. Jonah rushed out before his stomach decided to join the party as well.

He put together a little nest in the living room, grabbing her a set of blankets and a pillow, a bowl, meds, water and thermometer. After a couple minutes he heard the bathroom flush and the tap running, Angelina brushing her teeth, then she stumbled in the living room.

“Come lie down,” he pulled her to the couch, unsure of what she liked when sick. To be left alone or dotted on? So far the dotting was proving successful, but Jon was scared at any minute she’d snap at him. Or worse, cry.

Instead of doing either, Angelina curled up on the little nest he had created for her, tugging on his arm so he’d sit alongside her and then scooting up, resting her pillow half on his leg, “I feel horrible, Jon…”

“I’m sorry, darling,” the nickname slipped out, as he stroked her hair back and Jonah froze for a second, but Angie didn’t seem bothered in the least. In fact, she cuddled up even more, turning on her side and shivering, “I need to take your temperature,” he said, leaning to grab the thermometer and passing it to her.

He was genuinely surprised by how easy of a patient Angie was, after dealing with Leo and their friends for years now. They were a crew of stubborn people, while his baby sister seemed to be the most docile person ever.

She took the thermometer without complaining and didn’t whine when he fed her medicine, barely paid any attention to the television, seeming content just cuddling and shivering like hell, no matter how many blankets she had.

“Jon,” Leo woke him up, pressing a kiss to his temple, and Jonah realized he had drifted back to sleep with Angie’s head resting on his lap. It was hard not to feel sleepy when she was a little furnace, “you okay?”

“Uhm?” he rubbed his eyes and frowned. Leo was almost finished dressing for the day, which meant it was nearly 9 already. His tie wasn’t done and Leo was holding a coffee mug.

“What happened…?” Leo gestured to their current situation and Jonah darted out a hand, so his fiance could help him slip from under Angie without waking her up. The young girl only stirred, grimacing and curling up even more.

“Woke up with her throwing up at 6 AM,” Jonah whispered, following Leo to the kitchen and sitting by the counter, while the blonde got the coffee maker working, “I’m gonna have to call in sick at work.”

He wasn’t happy about that, Jon was on a quest to not miss any more work days, since he’d take the month off for honeymoon, probably at the end of the year or as soon as they stopped to settle on a bloody date.

“I’ll do it for you,” Leo planted a mug of coffee in front of him, squeezing Jonah’s shoulder, “should I worry?”

“No,” Jonah yawned, leaning to rest his head on Leo’s shoulder, “she’s alright, it’s just a 24 hour bug.”

“I don’t like this,” Leo sighed, “I’m going to be offline all day, I have no way of knowing-”

“I’m the doctor,” Jonah said smugly, grabbing the blonde’s chin, “I can handle one sick teenager. Relax.”

“Look who’s talking,” Leo smiled at him, rolling his eyes, “text me updates anyway, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Jon’s tone was sassy, but he meant it. He yawned in his fist, pulling Leo closer by his tie and starting to do the knot for him, “you’re gonna be back for dinner?”

“I’ll try to,” Leo wrinkled his nose, “but I doubt. You think she’d like balloons? Popsicles?”

“She’s seventeen, not five,” Jonah snorted, lifting himself up on his seat enough to kiss him, “bring us something yummy for dessert.”

Once Leo had left, promising he’d not forget to call the hospital to let them know of Jonah's absence, Jon had nothing but time to dedicate to his sister. It was so weird.

He took a shower to get ready for the day and fixed her up with some soup — well, ordered some soup —, then crouched down in front of the couch, pushing a curl away from her forehead, “Angie. Ange,” he shook her gently, “Angelina.”

“Uhhm?” She still had a fever, he could tell. The previous round of meds had lowered it, but not eradicated it, “what time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” he helped her sit up, “how’s your tum- stomach?” he was going to kill Leo.

Angie frowned, yawning, “sore. Kinda queasy,” she blushed, “did you say tummy?”

“No,” Jonah scoffed, sitting on the foot of the couch, “I got you some soup, think you can handle it?”

She hesitated, before nodding. Jonah eagerly shot up, he hadn’t been expecting a positive answer, and put everything on a tray, the soup, bread, some water and juice because he didn’t know what she preferred…

“I’m sorry, I don’t know your favorite flavor, so I just ordered mine,” Jon grimaced, settling the tray down on Angie’s lap.

She squinted at it, “is it pumpkin?”

“Yeah, and some chia seeds,” Jonah looked away, “Leo hates it, so we have plain tomato soup if you do too-”

“No,” Angelina shook her head, “I like it. My favorite is onion cream, just so you know,” she curled up her feet, in an invitation for him to sit closer and stirred the warm meal, “but I don’t think I could handle it right now.”

“I don’t think so either,” Jonah mentally stashed the information in his growing file of facts about his sister. So far he knew she really loved anything artsy, that she was attracted to Wendy’s colorful clothes and style like a butterfly to a flower, that she adored cats and that she got quiet and withdrawn when sick, “uh- Do you like popsicles…?”

Angie giggled, rolling her eyes, “doesn’t everyone?”

Well shit, he’d have to apologize to Leo.

“I don’t,” Jon shrugged and she frowned, starting to eat very slowly.

“Are you a robot?” Angelina inspected him up and down, “no type of popsicles?”

“I’m partial to gelato,” Jon shrugged, “or frozen yogurt.”

She shook her head in a tired manner, reaching for the juice instead of the water, “you’re so very weird, Jon…” then she frowned, blinking slowly as if trying to process some information, “don’t you have work today?”

Originally, Angie had planned to visit the museums and the university, that was the guise behind her visit. At least to Jonah it was, he was pretty sure she had openly told Leo she just wanted to visit them.

“I called in sick,” Jon pointed at her bowl, “staying down?”

“Yeah,” she yawned, “but it’s a lot.”

“You don’t have to eat all of it. Get as much as you want, then we can watch something or you can go back to sleep-”

“Can we go out to the park? With JD?”

He paused, “aren’t you sick?”

“I’m not dying,” Angie pouted, “and I already won’t be able to do everything I had planned so…”

“Yeah, uh- Sure. I don’t know where Leo keeps her leash, he’s the one who walks her, I just- I have to look…” He felt so incredibly out of place, “yeah, lemme go look-”

JD let out an indignant meow at being trapped in her leash and swatted at his hand with all little kitty force, trying to draw blood. Jonah sighed, scratching the kitten behind her ears, “I’m sorry, but you’re gonna take one for the team and be a good kitty.”

The cat didn't feel like being nice and once they got outside, walking to one of the benches since Angie got breathless not even five minutes after they left, JD simply crawled up Jon’s lap and tried to hide in his coat.

“She’s not outdoorsy at all, is she?” Angie grinned, leaning on his shoulder and trying to pet the animal, JD pointedly ignoring her. Jonah shrugged, leaning back and enjoying the fresh air.

“She’s a bit of a prick just like me,” he answered truthfully, hissing as he felt JD’s claws sink through his sweater, “she’ll get used to you.”

“I hope so,” Angie sighed, leaning against his side and resting her face on his shoulder, uninvited. She was so… Tactile. Clingy, even. Jonah pressed his cheek to the top of her head, “I hope she’ll grow to love having me around.”

He had the distinct feeling she was no longer talking about the cat. Jonah rolled his eyes, kissing the top of Angie’s head, “I’m certain she will, darling.”

#sickfic #fever #emeto #mywriting #angelina banks #LOTS of jon/leo in this one

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my-emeto-resources · 2 days

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The long build up. The small burps. The spitting. The kneeling in front of the toilet. The waiting. The fruitless gags. The dry heaving.

The nausea, oh the nausea.

#emeto musings #emetophilia #emeto #emeto kink

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necbromancr · 2 days

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#art #digital art #doodle #south park #artist #south park fanart #stan marsh #stan sp #emeto #emetophobia

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boysbellyrubs · 20 hours

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Detectives

hello. so i’ve gotten into crime novels and detective stuff lately, and so i made these characters :)). i tried to give some little details and clues to their personalities and friendship, but i’m not the best with that lmao.

—-

Detective Inspector Jack Woods was not a stranger to gruesome and disgusting crime scenes, taking pride in never getting queasy over it. It was something he often boasted about it, foregoing his nonchalant attitude to actually brag about not getting sick over a few mangled bodies. This time, he wasn’t bragging. Staring at the body of a young man that had been shot and ran over in a hit and run was enough to get his stomach churning. It was dark and cold, but Jack was sweating.

The other officers were milling about, talking amongst themselves before one came right up to Woods’ face, expecting conversation. He tore his eyes away from the body, “Yes?”

She stiffened at his tone, “Body was found around half an hour ago, with no signs of any other persons on the premises. Do you want a closer look at the crime scene?”

Jack looked past her shoulder to the body again and shook his head quickly. He wasn’t about to go and puke in front of everyone. She gave him another strange look but left, going back to her partner. The police lights were disorienting so he turned away, breathing sharply through his nose. He could still feel his stomach twisting, his brain holding onto the picture of the boy's disfigured body. Jack stared at the ground. What was up with him tonight?

All day he had felt like he wasn’t really all there. With a tickle of a headache blooming behind his eyes and the smell of any and all food making his belly churn, he was worried he might be coming down with something. He couldn’t afford a week off work, with cases piling up left and right, and an upcoming court case, there was no way the Chief would be pleased with it. He tried to calm his thoughts when a hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Rough night, huh? Kid looks like he got shredded.”

Jack closed his eyes, “Shut up, Harry. That’s insensitive.” The hand left his shoulder and Harry skirted round to his front.

“Alright, sorry. What’s up with you today?” Normally Jack would join in on Harry’s banter. Something to take the pressure off the situation. He was in no right mind to do so tonight.

“It’s nothing. I’m just-” He didn’t know he was going to say. He didn’t know if he was sick, but he couldn’t just admit he was getting queasy from a body. What kind of detective would he be? He settled on, “Long day.”

Harry seemed to agree, moving to stand beside him now but looking towards the crime scene. “Have you got any idea though? No leads or anything.” Jack heard him shuffle his feet, a nervous tick the other did whenever he complained. He faced him,

“I know. I think I’m gonna head back to the station, Harry. Clear my head.”

“Sure. You don’t mind if I tag along?” Harry was a little younger than Jack, and he seemed to like following him around. Jack didn’t mind much, he liked feeling useful. He often got paired with the younger detectives, although he was only 28 himself. Sometimes he wondered if the Chief thought he was older than he looked.

To answer Harry he shrugged and nodded, walking towards his car. Jack got in the drivers side although he was in no mood to drive with the way his head spun. He nearly pulled over and asked Harry to drive for him but they made it to the police station without any issues. Harry chatted his ear off the entire time, talking of his weekend and the possible suspects for the current murder. He was a good detective and Jack actually liked him. His past partners have been more often than not useless or assholes.

“What do you think Jack?”

Oh, he had been speaking? Jack was too focused on putting one foot in front of the other to even listen. He turned his head, “What?”

Harry’s face fell, “Have you not been listening? Something is up with you tonight. What is it?” He grabbed Jack’s arm, forcing him to stop. Before Jack even got a chance, a voice down the hall turned both of their heads.

“Woods, Lawrence! I hear you’ve got a pretty gnarly case on your hands.” Detective Parsons strode down the hall towards them. He was one of the older detectives and never really left the building. He was always trying to get involved, especially with them. Parsons happened to be Jack’s least favourite person in the entire bureau. He held down his groan.

“Yeah, it was bad.” Harry had still not learnt the art of short answers so Parsons was always given a reason to continue talking.

Parsons came right up to them, “Heard his head was pretty much destroyed. Got any leads?” Jack nearly puked at the reminder of the scene. Before Harry could answer, Jack quickly replied,

“No. But we’re busy so we’ll be seeing you Parsons.” He grabbed Harry’s shoulder and turned him around. Jack heard Parsons stupid mouth open again and stutter out a few words before giving up. He smiled a little to himself.

Harry chuckled a little, “You really don’t like him, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

They made it to their desks and dropped their notes (Harry’s notes) into a fresh manila folder, and decided that the night was over and that the case could wait until tomorrow. Jack sighed with relief, feeling his knees wobble a little as he picked up his coat draped over his chair. His eyes unfocused for a moment, and his ears filled with blood. He really needed to go home and lie down. Jack clocked out with Harry and they quickly left, not wanting anyone else to come up and talk to them.

Even though he was so close to being free, Jack felt his body degrading. Every step he took felt like it was plunged into glue, and pulling his leg up was impossible. He felt his shoulders slouching and his head felt like it was attached to a pogo stick. His stomach whined at him. Jack had been ignoring it all night, and now it seemed ready to give him payback. Harry had stopped talking beside him, finally recognising that his partner was not going to give him a response. As they entered the car park, Jack felt his stomach kick up a notch. He immediately stopped walking, placing a hand on his belly.

Harry turned, “Jack? You good?” His eyes flickered to the hand on his stomach and his eyebrows scrunched up. The air was suffocating him in the dingy underground car park, and Jack desperately needed a wall to lean against. He took a couple steps backwards and then spun around bent over, puke spilling through his mouth and onto the floor. He felt his body stagger and he finally hit a wall with his shoulder, stabilising him enough to continue vomiting. Jack’s mind produced HD quality images of the boy's body and he violently coughed up another round. He could barely hear Harry’s worried words next to him and the shy hand resting on his back as he heaved.

His stomach growled at him, pulling a groan from his lips. Jack bent forward more, spitting up rancid saliva and squeezing his middle. It was nearly impossible to open his eyes, knowing that when he did the concrete would be spinning. He coughed again and his stomach seemed to calm down, enough for him to twist himself around so his back was pressed against the wall. Jack let his head fall backwards.

Harry stood right in front of him, hands on his upper arms, “Hey, Jack? Jack, you with me?”

Jack groaned but gave a slight nod, one of his hands covering his aching eyes. His head felt like it was about to split open. Harry was muttering to himself about how ‘he knew something was wrong’ and ‘why didn’t he say anything?’. Jack smiled a little to himself,

“Didn’t realise you cared so much, rookie.” He mumbled. Slowly, he lowered his head and took his hand away from his eyes. Harry’s face swam into view,

“Of course. And I’m not a rookie anymore.” Harry grumbled. The other smiled a little more. God, he needed to get home. His eyes flickered to the pool of vomit beside him and he moaned at the sight, feeling like just a glance was going to send him puking all over again. He pushed off the wall, shrugging off Harry's arms lightly and took a step towards his car. Harry quickly caught up to him,

“Uh, do you need a hand or anything? Like getting home?”

Jack tried his best to unlock his vehicle, fiddling around with his keys. His hands were shaking violently and his bag weighed ten tons on his shoulder. He blew out a breath, handing the keys over to Harry as he leaned his hand on the roof of the car. The ground felt uneven and his mouth was filling with saliva again. Jack spat,

“Ugh, Jesus. Give me a sec, Ha-urp-rry.” Jack leant back, putting a few metres between himself and the car. He burped again. Just what he needed. Jack felt his belly curdle and suddenly he pitched forward and vomited up thin, yellow bile onto the concrete. It burned his throat immensely. He burped again, the rancid smell wafting into his face caused him to gag again and a little amount of foamy spit dribbled out of his mouth. He hoped Lawrence wasn’t watching this.

Jack straightened up, still clutching his abused stomach and tried his best to stabilise himself. It took staring at a random car’s license plate and a few short breathing exercises before he felt stable enough to turn around. Harry was sitting in the car, god bless, and was scrolling through his phone. Jack got into the other side, collapsing into the seat and (gingerly) threw his head back.

“Sounds like gastroenteritis. Stomach flu, duh. But uh, do you need anything before we start driving, I can probably find a bag or something just in case.” Harry rambled on. He looked over at Jack.

Jack gave him no response except for a snort. The kid meant well but if he didn’t start driving right now, Jack was going to throttle him and then probably puke on him. He mustered up some energy, “Just drive.”

—-

not much sick in this fic but just cause it’s the introduction. let me know if y’all wanna see them some more 😊😊

#i already love them lowkey #pls pls like them #emeto #stomach ache #sickfic #vomiting #emetophilia #oc's #Jack #Harry #belly kink #stomach flu

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twistcmyk · 6 months

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HELP

#emeto

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basementxdweller · 3 months

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puking as an act of submission <33333

#dolly gross posts #hard k1nk #heavy k1nk #emeto

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periwinkleowski · 7 days

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when the slender sickness is sicknessing

#i like it when he's miserable =w= ehueh... cute #plus his expressions are fun #tw emetophobia #emetophobia #emeto #emeto tw #fanart #marble hornets #tim wright #tw puke

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soppymilkgin · 4 months

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⚠️ emeto

#no decapitation this time #or is there 😳#switching up the vibe from my last art post hehe #gintama #sakata gintoki #emeto #art tag

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figurecollection · 9 months

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OMGkawaiiAngel Nendoroid by Good Smile Company, from Needy Streamer Overload

#omgkawaiiangel #kangel #k angel #emeto #emetophobia #needy streamer overload #nso #needy girl overdose #anime figure #anime figures #anime #figure #figures #figurine #figurines

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bellysoupset · 3 days

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Okay so this is what I thought of while reading the interactions with the kids.

I just remembered that Vince is lactose intolerant, right? So how would you feel about lactose intolerant Vince with (reluctant) caretaker Max for a change?

I mean I can imagine maybe a class party or something with a kid wanting to make sure that Mr. Monacelli (or Mr. Mo because that is freaking cute) is having fun too, so they keep bringing him snacks.

I can totally see Vin accepting anything and everything from a kid with doe eyes and not having any way to refuse because the kid is watching him and wants to see Vin eat it. (Let's be honest, Vince would never even speak up because he wouldn't want to hurt their feelings).

After that Vin is feeling gradually sicker and sicker until Max can't keep ignoring him anymore, so Vin has to spill the tea.

Then Max is like "why did you even accept?" While Vin, slightly offended, is like "did you really expect me to say no to that kid?"

I know it's really detailed, feel free to ignore it, I just couldn't get this little scenario out of my head.

- 💜

💜! I hope you like this one, I slightly twisted it and it's a little different from my usual... So let me know what you think!

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Max frowned, leaning on the doorway of the kindergarten. His hands were full with a large tupperware with baking soda, food coloring and vinegar, the usual science fair volcano mix.

What caused him to pause, though, was the sight inside the classroom. Mr. Monacelli, or Mr. Mo to the little ones, was standing, with a kid on his hip, a little girl… Livia, judging by how comfortable he seemed to be as he held her.

Liv’s dark wavy hair was up pigtails and she had face paint on, the tip of her nose painted black and whiskers on her cheek, a matching look that was mirrored on the other children. Cats, the Musical, kindergarten version? Max thought with a snort.

Vince also had face paint on and he was chewing something Livia had just pushed inside his mouth, out of a box. Across the room Max noticed a tall chocolate cake, with a glittery candle that said 7 on top.

That explained it.

Birthday parties were always the bane of his existence, so he was incredibly glad he barely taught kindergarten and the older kids would rather die than celebrate in class. As far as he could remember it, he had bad experiences under his belt. From his mom trying to throw him a fully vegan party that had been a flop with him and his friends, to his father getting drunk and forgetting about his birthday altogether, to the fact once he turned eighteen his birthday all but disappeared as celebratory day.

“Mr. Mo,” a kid ran across the room, with glitter face paint all the way to his scalp. Max snorted at the sight, the parents surely would be over the moon about that, “tell Jess she can’t play with my toy.”

Vince frowned, crouching down to look at the little boy and Max frowned, staring at the scene. He couldn’t figure out this dude. Monacelli gave off military vibes. Football star, with his little homophobic fit the other day, driving that ridiculous motorcycle everywhere… And there he was, covered in glittery paint, scolding a boy for not sharing his toys and being fed cake pops by his little sister and her group of friends.

It just didn’t make any sense.

“Daniels, do you need anything?”

Max’s cheeks burned as he realized he had been caught staring and he shook his head, as five little heads looked at him, as well as Vince.

“No, just passing by.”

“Alright,” Vince waved him off, taking the boy’s hand and dragging him across the room to apologize.

It was a couple hours later when they met again. Max was smelling like bleach, after finishing up a biology class with the 10th graders, and ready to head home as he entered the staff’s lounge to retrieve his bag. He raised his eyebrows as he found Monacelli sitting on one of the couches, in the furthest corner, with his arms crossed to his chest and his head tipped back, as if he was asleep.

“Hey,” Max kicked Vince’s foot to wake him in case he was asleep, “day’s over.”

Vince wasn’t asleep — or maybe he was a really quiet sleeper? — because he sat up straight with a groan, moving his arms to wrap around his stomach, “what do you want?”

Max frowned at the lackluster response, so unlike the man who always seemed to have his energy up, “school’s over, are you planning on crashing here? Maurice is gonna be locking this room soon.”

Vince let out a sigh, using the couch to push himself up and the other man realized he was a horrible shade of white… Damn near green.

“You look horrible,” Max said, taking a step back as he noticed Vince swaying slightly on his feet. Instead of denying, Vince simply nodded, bringing up a shaky hand to wipe the sweat off his brow.

“Yeah, I know-” he interrupted himself with a soft, sickly burp. He didn’t bother finishing his sentence, ceasing every movement as he gulped down, only to let out another little burp and a groan.

“What’s wrong with you?” Max eyed him suspiciously. There was no way this man had caught another stomach bug after measly five weeks of having one, right?

Vince pressed his forehead to the metal locker in the teacher’s lounge, seemingly devoid of any energy to put in his combination and retrieve his bag. Most teachers didn’t even put in a combination, everyone used the standard 0000.

“Monacelli,” he stepped closer, despite wanting nothing to do with illness or this guy. It was just unnerving.

“I’m fine,” Vince breathed out, but it would have been a lot more convincing if he wasn’t swallowing in convulsively and clutching his stomach. Stomach, which by the way, was pressing against his work polo. The guy wasn’t small by any means and Max could’ve told he had a tummy to begin with, but now it was nearly poking out.

“Yeah, you look terrific,” Max rolled his eyes, walking to retrieve his own bag and deciding he was done with the whole scene, “feel better-”

He never quite finished his sentence, before Vince let out a little strangled noise and then rushed across the room, to the teacher’s bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and Max cringed in sympathy as he heard a muffled groan.

Now he couldn’t just leave the idiot, right? Not after he had driven him home?

Max carefully walked closer, tapping his knuckles against the door, “Monacelli, do you need anything? Meds? The nurse? Your mom?”

He expected to hear Vince telling him to go fuck himself, but instead there was a noise of liquid hitting liquid, followed by retching and more liquid.

Shit. Perhaps, even, literally.

Max chewed on his lip, looking around the room helplessly as if an older adult would appear and take over the situation, but he sadly was the only adult. He looked at his watch. 3:40 PM. Office hours were over, the janitor and the security would soon be finishing their rounds and closing up the school.

“Dude,” he sighed, knocking again, “you kinda need to leave, they’re gonna lock us here.”

“Go away…” Vince groaned, his voice raspy and choked up.

Max scoffed, “are you crying?” really? “Mona-”

“I said, go away,” Vince repeated, much harsher now and Max’s mouth snapped shut, his cheeks heating up as his temper got the best of him.

“Fine,” he said bitterly,loudly walking away, “drown there, see if I care.”

Sadly, much to Max’s displeasure, he had a guilty conscience and couldn’t make it even to the parking lot. He let out a sigh and glared at the now empty parking lot. Only four vehicles left, one of them being Vince’s stupid motorcycle.

There was no way the man could go home in a fucking bike.

“Moron,” Max groaned, walking back inside. He fully expected to find Vince back in the teacher’s lounge, so it was much to his surprise when they ran into each other in the hallway. Or rather, he ran, because Vince was frozen in place, an arm wrapped tightly around his belly and breathing through the nausea carefully.

“Oh there you are-”

“Thought I told you to leave,” Vince groaned, not looking up from the spot in the linoleum he was staring at, trying to keep his stomach in check, “careful, or I’ll believe you give a shit.”

“Fever must be through the roof, you’re delusional,” Max snarked, curiosity getting the best of him as he stepped closer and raised a hand to touch Vince’s forehead.

Monacelli was much taller, and bigger, so when he pushed Max’s hand away with an impatient huff, the other teacher stumbled on his feet.

“I don’t have a fever,” Vince scoffed, straightening up. He looked worse, more green and more drenched in sweat, “I’m lactose intolerant and I ate- I ate half a chocolate cake…” his gut let out an upset, whiny gurgle that was loud enough for Max to hear.

The blonde stared at him for a second, before cackling “are you fucking with me!?”

When he didn’t get an answer, except for Vince’s cheek ballooning with yet another burp that he muffled with a fist, Max’s laughter lessened down to a chuckle, his shoulders shaking, “oh… You’re serious? You’re in this shape because of some chocolate?”

He really was the one to judge, Max thought with a snort, remembering he’d be hurling much sooner if he ate half a chocolate cake. But then again, he wouldn’t be stumbling around cradling his tummy and whining.

“What do you want, Daniels?” Vince groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t fucking get you. I helped you, not once, not twice, but three times by now, and you’re still a dick.”

Max’s chuckle died immediately, his cheeks burning, “sorry, should I’ve been bowing and kissing your feet? What do you want, cuddles and kisses because your tummy hurts?”

Vince raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “I’m really sorry you weren’t hugged enough as a child,” he said coldly, “but yeah, actually, I do have people who take care of me when I feel ill, because I’m not a fucking jackass.”

“Says you,” Max snorted, rolling his eyes and gesturing to the empty hallway, “where’s the queue to cuddle you? I don’t see it.”

“I know what your problem with me is,” Vince scoffed, pressing his back to the wall behind him and huffing. He was shaking, which was not a good sign and Max bit down the urge to ask if the guy was okay.

“Enlighten me,” he said instead and Vince folded in half, planting his hands on his knees and breathing through a cramp.

“You’re jealous,” he said through his teeth and Max glared daggers at him, his stomach dropping to his feet.

He wasn’t jealous, he was… He just didn’t think Vince was anything special. Surely he was allowed this opinion?

For example, if Vince was so great, why was he about to hurl all over the floor that Maurice had probably already cleaned? That was asshole behavior.

Max mentally patted himself on the back, before saying loudly, “here, Mr. Moron, don’t hurl all over the floor,” and pushing a garbage bin in front of the guy. He didn’t expect Vince to make immediate use of it, falling to his knees and grabbing the metal bin with his hands, hugging it to his chest as a huge gush of projectile vomit fell inside of it.

He jumped back, startled, then tip-toed closer, feeling a new shade of shitty as he heard Vince let out a whimper and bury his head in, burping wetly once more and continuing to convulse and cough.

“If you’re such hot shit, why didn’t you not eat the thing you’re aware makes you super ill?” Max asked, mostly to himself, hesitantly moving closer to plant a hand in the middle of the guy’s back. Even down on his knees, Vince was still pretty freaking tall.

Max patted his back in a hesitant manner, then cringed as he heard footsteps down the hallway. Curse both their lucks, Vince’s because he was about to be caught hurling his brains out, and Max’s because now he’d have to look out for the prick.

He braced for Fernanda, the principal, or Maurice, the janitor, but raised his brows as the person who rounded the corner was no one he knew. The man was well into his mid fifties or early sixties, with wavy light brown hair and blue eyes… And he was really tall.

Max cringed as suddenly he realized he knew Mr. Monacelli from parent-teacher meetings and that the old guy would be expecting him to act like a lovable guy, the same lovable teacher he was when talking about Sophia or Livia. Fuck.

“Mr. Mona-”

“Dad,” Vince croaked, lifting his head for a slight second, “fuck- Fuck, it hurts.”

Mr. Monacelli all but ignored Max as he crouched down next to his son, planting a wrinkly hand on his back and rubbing in wide circles, “I got you, I got you. Get it up and then I’m taking you home.”

Max bit the inside of his cheek so as not to chuckle at that, “Uh- Hi…?”

“Mr. Daniels,” Giuseppe zeroed him, opening a small smile, “thank you for keeping him company.”

Sure. That was what he was doing.

“Yeah, uhm- Of course,” Max scratched at his beard, as Vince let out another sickly belch, bringing up a bit more watery vomit, and then leaned back, his head hitting the lockers, chest heaving, drenched in sweat.

“Babbo, I’m dying.”

“You should be,” Giuseppe glared at him, “what a stupida idea was that?” he softly thumped on his son’s forehead, “I couldn’t believe my ears when Livia told me. Cazzo, you’re an adult, Vincenzo!”

Vince frowned, looking pathetically close to tears, “babbo,” he breathed out, wiping at his mouth and clutching his bloated belly, “later?”

“Idiota,” his father scoffed, grabbing his arm and helping him get up, “Non pensi?”

“Dad,” Vince said a little harsher and his father stopped scolding him continuously, glaring at his son.

“Let’s go home- Thank you for helping him, Mr. Daniels,” Giuseppe said, still oblivious to the role, or lack of one, Max had played.

“Of course,” Max said cheekily, following them out, “any time, Vince. I hope your tummy feels better.”

“Go fuck yourself, Danie- Babbo!” Vince cried out, as his father slapped the back of his hand, dragging him out of the school and towards his car.

“Don’t swear at the boy, he helped you,” Mr. Monacelli glared at Vince, “get in the car.”

“What am I, five?” Vince groaned, stumbling to the car and bracing against it, breathing deeply through the nausea.

Max bit down a smirk, “Bye Mr. Monacelli,” he said happily, “bye Vinny.”

Behind his father’s back, Vince raised a middle finger at him.

#sickfic #mywriting #vince monacelli #lactose intolerance #emeto #emetophilia #nausea #stomach ache #loads of bantering in this one

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