anonymous asked:

Please, can you write a fic where Gou and Seijuro are on a road trip with Momo and Rin. Juro drives most of the way, but then is hit by a wild migraine and starts throwing up. Rin takes over the driving, while Gou dotes on her ailing boyfriend. Momo is worried about his brother and tries his best comforting him as well. I really admire your work. Your blog is truly awesome.... Thank you very much!

Thank you for saying so^-^ I’m a sucker for compliments


He had agreed to drive, even though his head was aching slightly. He figured it would go away after a while if he was distracted enough, but he was wrong.

Less than halfway through the drive, his headache got more intense and it started to effect his vision. He didn’t want to alarm anyone and he didn’t think there was cause for concern just yet, but the more his head pounded, the more disoriented he became.

Driving with cloudy vision made him dizzy in a sort of carsick way. He tried not to let on how terrible he felt but it was getting harder, as his condition declined along with his driving skills.

“Look out!” Rin shouted from the front seat as Seijuro nearly ran into a car in the opposite lane.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to pass your driving test.” Rin said, easing back into his seat with his arms crossed.

Seijuro remained worryingly quiet, this only increasing his passenger’s suspicion that something was wrong.

“Seijuro, honey, why don’t you pull over and let Rin drive?” Gou said from the back seat. Beside her was sitting Momo, who was fixated on a handheld video game.

“I’m fine dear, thanks for your concern.” Seijuro assured her.

But this was far from true. By this time, sharp pains were piercing his skull and his stomach was rebelling as his vision betrayed him.

He was so disoriented that his stomach lurched inside his mouth. He covered his fist over his mouth to play it off like the sound had been a burp, but Rin still gave him a concerned glance.

Seijuro tried to ignore him and kept driving but the nausea wouldn’t let up. His stomach lurched again, this time more forcefully and he felt his stomach contents shoot up his esophagus.

A loud sound emitted from his throat that nearly made Rin jump. “You okay?” He asked nervously.

“Yea-” Seijuro tried to say, but he was interrupted by powerful gag that ushered up a stream of liquid that overflowed over his bottom lip, traveling down his chin and staining his shirt.

Rin jumped in shock, trying not to panic. “Okay Seijuro, pull to the side. Now.”

“What’s wrong oniichan?” Gou was very worried.

“It’s okay, Gou. Everything’s fine.” Rin didn’t think it would do them any good to increase the panic among them.

Momo yanked out one of his headphones. “Hey what’s all the fuss about?” He wanted to know.

“Something’s wrong.” Gou said, angry that Rin wouldn’t explain what was going on.

“What?” Momo’s face fell in concerned. “Sei, you okay?”

Seijuro managed to pull over and Gou jumped out of the car. Her jaw dropped when she opened the driver’s side door and saw Seijuro dripping with vomit.

“Oh god, Seijuro.” She helped him as he clambered out of his seat dizzily. The moment he stepped foot outside he shot forward with a heave.

Rin had come around the other side to help. He cursed when he saw Seijuro’s condition. They moved him away from the car and Gou stroked his back as he leaned over the side of the road, breathing unevenly.

Momo started climbing out of the car and called out to them. “Hey! Someone tell me what’s going on!”

“Just stay in the car Momo-kun.” Gou insisted, knowing Seijuro would only feel worse knowing he was scaring his little brother.

Momo pouted and sat back in the car.

Seijuro clenched his eyelids in pain from the bright sunlight outside.

“He must have a migraine. He gets them sometimes.” Gou told Rin.

“Oh yeah.” Rin thought. “I remember he had to cancel practice a few times because of that. I had no idea they got so bad.”

Seijuro winced in pain and clutched his stomach with a cough. Then with another heave, he was puking onto the road.

“I think maybe we ought to find a hotel for the night?” Rin suggested.

Gou agreed, feeling sorry for Seijuro as he was covered in sick. “Rin, can you look for a napkin or something in the car?” She asked, and he raced over.

“I’m so sorry.” Seinuro shook his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have been driving. I put you all in danger.”

“Shh.” Gou stroked his arm. “We’re all fine. Let’s just focus on getting you better.”

They tried to get Seijuro as cleaned up as possible before they had to get back on the road.

“Momo, you’ve been upgraded to front seat.” Rin told him.

“Wait, really? Sweet!” Mono said excitedly, until he saw Gou helping Seijuro back to the car. “Wait… why?”

“Just get up here.” Rin wasn’t in the mood to have to deal with a child.

Momo angrily moved to the front and Gou and Seijuro sat in the back.

“Here.” Rin handed Gou a plastic bag and she thanked him.

Momo’s jaw dropped when he turned around to see Seijuro looking sickly in his vomit stained shirt. “Niichan! What’s wrong?”

“He’ll be fine. Let’s just get back on the road.” Rin said, taking the wheel and getting them moving again.

The driving was killer for Seijuro. He was already dizzy, and sitting in the back only increased his nausea. He couldn’t help but moan as he curled himself up in the corner, clutching his stomach tightly.

“It’s okay love. We’re going to stop soon.” Gou promised.

Seijuro hunched over on himself, covering his mouth with his hand. “Gou-” He whimpered.

Gou held out the bag for him and he was quickly spewing his stomach contents into, the sound of it hitting the bag was sickening. Rin winced, and Momo’s eyes widened with horror at the sight of his brother.

“Hey, cut that out.” Rin grabbed Momo’s head and forcibly turned it back towards facing the road.

“Itaiee!” Momo squirmed. “That hurt!”

“I already told you, Seijuro will be fine. Leave him be would you?” Rin pleaded.

Momo crossed his arms and pouted in his seat. “I just wanted to help.” He said grumpily, every once and a while still glancing in the mirror to make sure Seijuro was okay.

“That’s it, it’s okay.” Gou coaxed, rubbing his back as Seijuo leaned over the bag. “How’s you’re head?”

“It’s killing me.” Seijuro said weakly. “But honestly- it’s not as bad as the nausea.” He leaned back over the bag, still gagging weakly between sentences.

Rin had to make a slight turn, he tried to do it as fluidly as he could, but the motion still sent Seijuro reeling.

He heaved over the bag, vomiting several times in a row.

Rin couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, wishing there was more he could do to help.

When they finally found a hotel, Rin checked them in and Gou helped Seijuro lay down in a bed.

“Hey, love?” He whispered.

“What is it dear?” She asked sweetly.

“Can you- just make sure that Momo knows I’m okay?” He requested.

Gou smiled. “Of course.”

The shit is bananas (B-A-N-A-N-A-S)

Last shift I worked: 5 admissions on my part of the unit in under 2 hours

Last night: full OB setup parked outside a patient room on standby for one of our traumas , complete with an L&D nurse; coding a patient in the hallway; traumatic intubations AND extubations, all of the patients puking; a level I trauma almost every hour; drunk family members; and a surprise vented patient rolling up from the OR who not a soul (including patient placement) knows about.

Needless to say I haven’t slept that hard after a shift in a loooooonnnnng time.

Fuck!  What am I going to do now, I wondered, my mind racing…

“Join the wrestling team, it’ll make a man out of you,“ winked my General Business teacher, who also happened to be the coach of the team.  I wasn’t even into sports – I was only a freshman – but as he took me into the locker room office he poured what he called his ‘ubermilk’ into a shotglass and asked me to take two shots of it.  I figured the car service was pretty neat so it couldn’t hurt to try it, what would that little bit of milky white substance possibly do to me, I figured.  Yeah I was health conscious but I trusted him – he was my teacher and my coach, for fuck’s sake!

I went back to my locker and started feeling dizzy, and slumped to the ground, trying not to puke.  Maybe I should have puked, gotten whatever was in that fluid out of my system before it acted!  I passed out instead and that was when I transformed.  I woke up and now look at me… I wish I could have at least watched it happen.  That’s a weird thought to have, but it’s just like damn, look at me now.  Why would he do this to me?  There’s gotta be a way to change it back, right?

"Coach?” I yell, startled and stopping for a moment when I hear my voice deeply rumble out of me.  I have to find him, maybe he can undo this, but would he?  He was big, bulky and hairy too, I thought randomly, although it seemed weird to consider… he had to be able to reverse this, I briefly hoped, although the idea seemed so unlikely that I almost felt dejected.  Maybe I’d get really angry at him if he couldn’t.  Maybe… I wasn’t sure what, I just knew he was the only one to talk to.  How would he feel if somebody had done this to him without his permission?  I have a right to be mad, I told myself.  But what if there’s probably no way to reverse it?  I’ll be stuck like this forever and won’t be normal ever again.  He must have given me that drink for some reason… what good is being mad going to do?  So many thoughts running through my head, I felt confused… why hadn’t I let myself puke when I wanted to… that was so damn stupid of me.  I can’t believe he even pushed that fluid at me, probably knowing that it would make me man up for him before I could even decide…  Fuck!  At the very least I was going to be able to confront him like a man, I wasn’t about to let him just get away with this… maybe I should pin him up against the wall, I thought, strangely kind of excited about the idea.  If he doesn’t give me a straight answer maybe I just will, I thought, kind of even hoping maybe he’d give me an excuse… it was weird to be thinking this way but I couldn’t help it so let’s just get to his office and see how it goes, I told myself.  "Coach…” I said, this time purposefully almost growling it like a predator just for the heck of it and to give myself the confidence I’d need to pin him… yeah, I was going to pin him, I thought…not sure why, but I’m feeling even more excited at the thought of that.

As a side note I really really really want someone’s SO to not believe them when they say they’re sick or not feeling well.

Eventually it gets so bad that they’re either so feverish they’re delirious and or huddled against the toilet unable to hold anything down.

Or maybe they just have an insanely high fever and throw up in public? Like they were complaining about a tummy ache and the SO doesn’t believe them tells the to stop faking to get out of some event. Only to find a few hours later they are in horrid shape as I said before or they find them puking their guts up in the middle of a crowded room with EVERYONE watching.

More Important

@feelingalittlesick, here I am writing one of your scenarios again! Surprise! (I can’t help it, they’re just too good.) This is set pre-series, with Yuri P. Still competing in the juniors.

An upset stomach is one of the most unpleasant things to wake up to, and Yuri knows that today is going to suck the minute Victor comes into his room.

“Yuri! It’s time to get up!” Victor calls out, way too cheerful for the early hour.

“Noooo,” Yuri moans softly, burying his head in the pillow. He’s generally not a morning person; this particular morning, he’s pretty sure that he’ll puke if he gets out of bed.

Victor’s face creases with concern as he takes in Yuri’s pale face and uncharacteristic listlessness. “Are you feeling okay? You don’t look very well.”

Normally, Yuri would lie and say that he’s fine, but he doesn’t think that he’d be able to pull it off today. Not with his stomach churning vengefully. He shuts his eyes and murmurs, “I’m not feeling too great.”

Victor’s concern spikes; it takes a lot for Yuri to admit that he might be sick. He really must be feeling bad today. “I can tell. Why don’t you sit up and let me check your temperature?” he suggests.

Yuri does as he’s told, sitting up and turning to face Victor. He’s horrified when he realizes that Victor is wearing his costume for the competition today and shoves away Victor’s outstretched hand. “Actually, I was exaggerating a little, it’s not that bad.” If Victor thinks that Yuri is sick then he might decide not to compete. Yuri refuses to be responsible for ruining Victor’s career.

“Are you sure?” Victor doesn’t look very convinced.

“Yeah, I’m just a little tired, but I’m going to start getting ready now. Why don’t you just head over to the competition now? I can catch a ride with Yakov. I don’t want to make you late.” He shoos Victor from the room before he can protest and grabs his phone to dial his coach.

Normally, Yuri wouldn’t let anything keep him from watching Victor perform, but today he knows that his presence would just be a distraction. Yakov answers his call on the first ring. “Hey, Yakov,” he begins tentatively. “Victor just left for the competition, and I wanted to know if I could stay home today.”

“What?” shouts Yakov, cutting him off before he can explain. Yuri winces and holds the phone away from his ear. “You need to go to the competition today so you can see what you’re up against next season. I’ll pick you up in five minutes.”

Yakov hangs up without letting Yuri get a word in edgewise. He sighs heavily and starts getting dressed. The one time that he actually wants to rest when he’s sick and he’s not allowed to.

Yuri makes a beeline for the stands as soon as they’re at the competition. Sitting down will hopefully ease the pain in his stomach, plus, as long as he stays out of Victor’s sight, the older skater can’t worry about him. To his surprise (and great relief) Yuri actually manages to doze a little, curled up on one of the benches.

His respite doesn’t last long, unfortunately, and Victor is last in the lineup, so Yuri is in for a long day. The chill of the rink is starting to get to him, and the shivering is not helping his already uneasy stomach. Yuri closes his eyes and lets out a miserable little groan, before his eyes snap open again and he claps a hand to his mouth. The nausea has taken a turn for the worse, and Yuri scrambles to his feet and sprints to the bathroom, not daring to remove his hand from his mouth.

The bathroom is where Victor finds him half an hour later, still dry-heaving into the toilet. Yuri has already thrown up what seems like everything he’s eaten in the past week, but his angry stomach still insists on lashing out.

Victor rubs Yuri’s back soothingly and helps him to his feet when the gagging finally stops. “Let’s get you cleaned up and go home,” he says gently.

“But you haven’t competed yet,” Yuri gasps in protest. He’s still trying to catch his breath.

“I’ve decided not to compete in the Grand Prix this year,” Victor says nonchalantly.

“But Victor,” Yuri starts again, before Victor cuts him off.

“Some things are more important than winning gold. You’re clearly very sick. Let’s get you home.” Victor leaves no room for argument, and Yuri finds himself sighing and giving in.

“Okay, but you’d better still win the worlds! I don’t know if I can still hang out with you if you don’t.” Victor just laughs and ruffles Yuri’s hair.

Yuri doesn’t think he will ever be able to forget this. Victor thinks that he’s more important than gold? What a sap. But he can’t deny that it’s a nice feeling, being taken care of like this. He falls asleep on the car ride home with a small smile on his lips.

anonymous asked:

Ehe hey hey, longtime follower and fangirl (v.v) and I remember you posting about being sick! Did they ever find out what it was?


It’s still completely a mystery if it was environmental or stress. 

For those who weren’t around for that, back in 2011 I started having morning nausea/cramps that made me puke, and they progressively got worse over time to the point where i was waking up at 3am with convulsive dry-heaving that brought up stomach lining. I couldn’t stomach food other than saltines and water/gatorade, and even those were a gamble. A few ER trips and doctor visits gave me no information and a lot of shrugs, but whatever was affecting me was genuinely killing me. Like, I thought I had cancer. You can see in this pic how sick I was.

But, then I moved out here in December 2013. Around February 2014 I woke up one day and thought, “I want pizza”, and by god I ate that pizza with no trouble whatsoever.

And nobody’s really sure what happened. Three years of suffering came to an abrupt end. It may have been stress, or there may have been some kind of fungus in the walls of my old apartment. Who knows, but it hasn’t come back since.

It’s sad that one of my art teachers is worried about me.
I ended up running out of class to puke.
And I fell asleep in class bc of work I get no sleep.
But bless my teacher.
She has a good heart.