#And we only had to swerve to the shoulder so I could be carsick once on the drive home!

[4rsyn]

Just got home from my eclipse road trip! My parents and I drove to Dayton OH to see it - about a 2hr drive for us. My sibling is up there, so we hung out at a mall near their work and they popped over to join us for the big event. There were a bunch of other groups hanging out in the parking lot with their chairs and picnics - when it reached totality everyone cheered :)

This was the best my phone camera could do of the eclipse itself :/

At least you can see it's a ring and not just a blurry dot?

My pics of the cool shadows were a little better tho!

I wasn't prepared for how quick it was - these two pics were taken just three minutes apart! Like, you could tell something was up with the light, but it didn't seem any less bright until it suddenly dark. The temp. also noticably dropped as it reached totality.

All the geese also had a little scream when it went dark, which was funny. Idk if they do that at dusk?

It was all very, very cool. I'm so glad I got to see a total eclipse! I don't know if we would have gone if it was more than just a days away with how uncertain the weather is this time of year.

Fun trip but now I'm so so tired

[whumperfect]

Wheels, Part 3

You can find part one here, part two here, and part four here! Coming soon. Written in collaboration with @99point9percentwhump, a wonderful whumper!

Blake was not one to break laws. Nor was his wife, Shirley. However, when it came to the safety of their son, there was a mutual agreement that any laws could be broken. Driving well over the speed limit, Blake just hoped that it was enough to get to the hospital on time. They lived at least two hours away, and the roads were tedious, even in the summer. It has been Shirley that had seen Roman’s collapse, an event that she wished never to witness again. The pain in her son’s eyes had broken her heart as he had crumpled to the floor. Upon investigation, she had found multiple scrapes and many bruises, including a large bump on his head. Wasn’t he wearing a helmet? She scolded him, stroking his hair with care.

It was still raining. The teardrops hit the windshield in a panic, mirroring the panic that the two parents felt for their child.

Shirley and Roman were in the back seat. Roman’s head was on Shirley’s lap, his legs sprawled over the rest of the back seat. His seat belt was fastened, safety first, and his eyes were closed. His face was screwed into a pained frown, as if he were suffering from a nightmare that he couldn’t wake from.

“Just hang in there,” Shirley whispered in his ear. Briefly, she regretted leaving Anna at home by herself but cleared the thought from her mind. She wouldn't worry about both children at once, it wouldn’t do anyone any good. Anna was old enough to take care of herself. She hoped. Outside, the green pine trees whizzed by. They were so still and serene. She wished that her life could be as simple as the ancient trees that stretched their branches up to the sky.

Roman moaned, his eyes fluttering like a butterfly’s. She stroked his hair more, leaning down to kiss his forehead. It was hot and sweaty, as if a fever had already started to set in. What had it been, a couple of hours? No way they could be infected yet. He had been fine this morning when she’d headed off to work. That was only a couple of hours ago; so much had happened between now and then.

His eyes. Why so much pain? What was wrong.

The events kept circling in her head over and over.

The pen was on the counter, where he had dropped it moments before. There was an ink stain on his hand. Blue. Smeared half an inch across the side of his hand. His hands were shaking. His knees were shaking. Something was wrong. His mouth moved but no words came out. He was staring at her across the counter. What was he trying to say? His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he was on the floor, crumpled in a pile, all twisted around himself. She called for Blake to start the car. He rushed into the kitchen, saw what was happening, and scooped the boy into his arms. He looked so small. So, so small. No longer the teenager he was, but the boy they had raised. His face was so fragile, his brows knitted together, forming a small mountain in between his eyes. His arms and legs swung limply, tapping each other with every footfall. She had yelled at Anna. Stay home! She had said. She had promised to call their neighbors later, ask them to take Anna for the night.

Then what had happened? Shirley thought back, consumed in the thunderstorm memories.

The car had started the third time. Each time the engine rolled over, lightning bolts of nervous energy had shot through her stomach. Tentacles of energy tingled through her arms, her shoulders, her back. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach as she held on to her son for dear life. The energy licked at her brain, illuminating every cell in her body. They were ultra-active, slowing time, capturing every moment in fine detail in the catastrophe of her thoughts.

She had eventually managed to call their neighbours, about an hour into the drive. They were halfway there, she comforted herself. And besides, Roman’s condition has not worsened at all since they had left. He was just… the same.

“How’s he doing?” Blake asked, glancing in his rearview mirror, his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were powdery white. He was driving over the speed limit, braking hard to swerve around the dangerous mountain turns. It made her carsick, but the faster they went, the sooner they would be there and the sooner Roman would be safe.

“He’s the same… I don’t understand how this happened. Doesn’t he know he has to wear a helmet?”

“It makes sense, honey. He’s a teenager. He’s hanging out with his friends, he-” Blake paused to rip them around a steep bend in the mountain. Shirley grabbed the overhead handle to steady herself. “-he wants to be cool. I understand, I used to do the same thing in that skate park when I was his age. He’ll learn-” another bend “-I just hope that he will learn his lesson from all this, after it’s over.”

They passed a sign, alerting them that the hospital was less than two miles away. Shirley sighed with relief, her fingers cold and clammy from anxiousness. They screeched to a halt in front of the hospital doors a couple of minutes later. Shirley unclipped both her seatbelt and her sons, then waited for Blake to come around and open the door. They hauled his limp body to the edge of the seat, and then Blake scooped the teen into his arms and carried him swiftly to the entrance.

Shirley, scrambling after him, followed him through the sliding glass doors and into the hospital lobby. Shirley went straight to the desk, asking for help. The nice young lady at the desk - a blonde with doe brown eyes - perked up at the sight of them and immediately jumped into action.

“What’s his condition?” She asked, her sweet melodic voice echoing.

“We don’t know. He was skating this morning, came home with lots of scrapes. He just collapsed in our kitchen two hours ago; that's how long it took us to get here. He’s been unconscious ever since.”

The assistant clacked away on the keyboards, a look of furious concentration glued to her innocent face. “Nurses are on their way, they’ll be right with you,” she said after a couple of seconds. I’ll need you to fill out some papers for us, please. It’s mandatory.”

“Uh, sure, um… now?”

“That would be best,” the assistant said, her melodic voice managing only to cool some of the nerves that were wracked up in a fiery panic. “Don’t worry, your son is safe now, he’s in the best of hands.” The assistant handed her an enormous stack of papers and a pen across the counter. She smiled. “Thank you.”

By then the nurses had come, wheeling in a squeaky blue hospital bed. One of them helped Blake lower Roman onto the bed while the other two checked his vitals and started making note of his AVPU scale. He was wheeled off, leaving Shirley, Blake, the assistant, and an overly sized stack of papers alone in the windowless hospital lobby.

[1heartfanfics]

Hii! Are your requests open? Could you please write a Hazel And Nathan one where Nathan gets really carsick and throws up in the car with hazel taking care of him. Thanks

Yes, ahhh thank you!! I am a sucker for carsickness fics. One of my fave tropes probably.

Nathan glanced over at Hazel, who was curled up in the passenger seat, reading her book. He shook his head fondly, wondering how she could get herself into such a position comfortably and how she could read while they were driving. Unfortunately, Nathan’s usual trick of being the one driving in order to stave off his carsickness, was not working. They had been stuck in traffic once they’d gotten on the interstate, and the stop/start motion was causing his stomach to do somersaults. 

“Man, this traffic sucks huh?” Hazel asked, having looked up from her book to check out the state of the situation.

“Yeah, there must have been an accident or something, it isn’t usually this bad,” Nathan agreed.

He pressed a hand to his stomach nonchalantly, rubbing gently for a second. Before he put his hand back on the steering wheel he pulled at his seat belt, feeling like it was suffocating his stomach, which was becoming more and more upset. 

They had been in Wichita for a concert and were now driving back to Lawrence. Unfortunately, the best way back was through Kansas City. But Nathan was right, they’d both driven through Kansas City tons of Sunday mornings and it was never stop and go traffic for quite this long. 

“Hopefully we get through it soon, I want to get home and take a shower, I feel gross,” Hazel said, putting her book down and unfolding from her odd position to sit like a normal person.

“Yeah,” Nathan said, realizing he actually felt kind of nauseous. That’s not good, they’ve still got at least 40 more minutes, probably more with the way things were looking. 

“That was such a good concert though! Like oh my god. I’m so glad we went, it’s probably the best one I’ve been too,” Hazel droned on, “It was super hazy in there and so many people were smoking and stuff, like I can still smell it on me.”

Normally Nathan was calmed by the sound of his girlfriends voice, but right now it seemed too loud, echoing around the car and grating against his ears. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard, fighting back the queasiness that was swirling in his stomach. 

“Babe?” Hazel asked. Nathan hadn’t realized that she’d stopped talking.

“Hmm?” Nathan’s mouth was filling with saliva, his tongue felt heavy. 

“Are you alright?” she asked. 

Nathan didn’t answer. Instead he swerved the car off of the road and onto the shoulder, thanking his lucky stars that he’d been in the far right lane. Ignoring Hazel’s exclamations of confusion he fumbled with his seat belt with one hand and the door handle with the other, practically falling out of the car when both came free at the same time. He dropped down onto his knees and hung his head as his stomach lurched, sending his breakfast up his throat and out onto the pavement. 

“Oh sweetie,” Hazel said softly, sliding across the bench seat of his truck and moving to crouch behind him, a careful hand rubbing gently across his back as he continued to heave for a moment, gagging dryly. 

“Fuck,” Nathan coughed and spit, cringing at the bitter taste in his mouth. It made him feel nauseous all over again. And he knew it would ramp back up again as soon as they were back in the car.

“Easy Nath, just breath,” Hazel carded her fingers through his hair, pulling him back gently to lean against her, his head resting against her chest. 

“Don’t feel good,” Nathan moaned, feeling his stomach squeezing inside of him. 

“I know love, are you okay for now though?” Hazel asked softly, fingers trailing down his arm.

“Mmm,” he nodded, still afraid to open his mouth.

“Alright, let’s get you up and off the side of the road here,” she said, grabbing his elbow and carefully easing him to his feet, her other arm wrapped around his waist to support him on shaky legs. 

“I still feel nauseous,” he mumbled, dropping his head down onto her shoulder.

“Poor thing,” Hazel said, leading him slowly around to the passenger door, “You should’ve told me you weren’t feeling well,” she said as she helped him up into his truck. 

“I know,” he shrugged. He usually did, he’d just wanted to get home without it becoming an issue, but obviously that happened. 

“Will you be okay if I start driving? Traffic seems to be letting up a bit, and I’ll be as careful as I can, but it’ll still probably upset your tummy huh?” she asked.

“Yeah. Just get us home,” he groaned, slinking down in the seat as far as he could without falling off it seemed. 

Hazel reached into the tiny backseat, digging around for the plastic sack that had a few water bottles and granola bars in it. She dumped the contents out, handing the bag, and a bottle of water to her pale - even more so than usual - boyfriend. 

“Sip on that, it might help a little. And just in case,” she said, gesturing to the bag. 

“Thanks,” he said dryly, knowing that the bag would probably have to be used no matter how hard he tried to fight it. 

“Alright, ready?” she asked, putting the car into drive. 

Nathan nodded miserably, curling up in his seat, much as Hazel had done earlier, although for a much different reason. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, without applying too much pressure, to try and keep his nausea at bay, or maybe even fall asleep.

Unfortunately, he was not so lucky. He remained awake and queasy. It was only about another 15 minutes before the warm feeling started creeping up on him again. He knew what that meant. Nathan untangled himself and sat up, leaning against the window as his mouth began to water again, breathing shallowly through his nose, eyes shut tightly.

The truck approached a slowing car, making Hazel tap on the brakes. As careful as she was, the motion still caused the pair to lurch forward in their seats slightly. Nathan moaned, sliding a hand under his shirt to palm his tummy.

“I’m sorry! I’m trying to be as careful as I can,” Hazel said.

“I know,” Nathan groaned, letting out a queasy belch.

Hazel glanced over at him worriedly, knowing what was about to happen. She slid her hand onto his thigh, squeezing gently, “Just let it happen hon.”

He nodded, opening the plastic bag. Nathan moved slowly, scooting away from the window and sitting up to lean over the bag, breathing heavily now as he attempted to fight it. Hazel rubbed her thumb in circles on his leg, glancing over at him every few seconds.

“Do you want me to pull off?” she asked, cringing as she pressed on the brake again. 

“No,” Nathan shook his head, belching again, although this time it morphed into a gag. He spit into the bag, eyes watering as waves of nausea washed over him.

“Alright, easy love, just breathe,” Hazel said, keeping her eyes on the road. She knew that the best thing she could do right now was keep the car as steady as possible. Luckily, the traffic was dissipating. As long as she stayed in the slow lane and drove a little under the speed limit, she could mostly keep a constant speed, which she knew should help.

“Huulppp,” Nathan heaved, the rest of his stomach contents falling into the bag with a sickening splash. He gagged again, more liquid joining the mess. 

“We’re almost home love, hang in there,” Hazel said, reaching over blindly to pat his back, continuing to focus on the road ahead of her. 

Nathan moaned, swallowing down a dry heave as his stomach clenched. He took a few deep breaths to settle his stomach. Once he was confident that it would stay in place for a bit, he tied the bag and set it at his feet, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He could not wait to get out of this car. 

[princesstreaclefanfic]

We Meet Again Chapter Six

Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Splash of Colour

Luke watched as Penelope looked around the plane. He could see she wasn't a fan of the neutral colours. She expressed this and JJ got straight in her good books.

"What, you mean I'm the splash of colour… stop it." She made hand motions for JJ to continue. Luke smiled and chuckled. It was a good metaphor for his life with her in it. Before she came along, his life was boring and neutral and plain. And then she came in with her bright clothes and bold jewellery and amazing personality and he was swept away. She added colour to his otherwise quiet life. And he couldn't complain about that.

***

Penelope stood on the side of the road and watched as JJ spoke with the police officers at the scene. She couldn't understand why someone would do this, purposefully injure innocents? And in such a volatile way. Penelope was only too familiar with the damage that a car could do to a person's body and she hated the thought that these people were suffering.

Seeing her standing there, Luke wandered over and offered his hand to her.

She wasn't going to take it, honestly. Then the corners of her mouth quirked up and those dimples got her again.

She placed her smaller hand in his and tried to ignore the heat coming from his body.

Delicately, she stepped onto the road, aware that she probably should have worn heels that weren't as high. She didn't want to give him the wrong impression so once she was stable she shook his hand off, grimacing at him. Luke took it all in good humour though. He jokingly wiped his hands on his jeans as if he had touched something on her that he didn't want to. It was kind of funny seeing as only a few weeks ago he'd had his mouth on her pussy.

She kept her grimace on her face until she turned away but she couldn't hide the smile that spread across it when he wasn't looking.

***

Luke and Penelope were in the precinct, trying to work out what the unsub's next step was.

"There has to be some kind of connection between the unsub and Veronica Perotta. I mean, he targeted her outside her own home." Luke stepped closed to Penelope. "He had to have some knowledge of her daily routines. This-this was personal." This was the worst attack he had perpetrated. To have a woman run over in front of her own home whilst she unloaded her grocery shopping - it was diabolical. They needed to catch this guy before he hurt anyone else.

"I'm looking through Veronica's social media now," Penelope told him. Her fingers whizzed over the keys. "She was single, she had recently joined something called Amorous Intrigue."

"The dating website." The only reason Luke knew about it was because his friend had tried to set him a profile up. He wasn't interested though. He hadn't been interested in dating since he had spent the night with Penelope.

"Oh, is that what is it? Maybe I should join it, not that I'd want to join anything you know about… or I need a dating website… cause I don't." He was positive she didn't need a dating website.

As they delved into the website they learnt that Veronica had been pinged several times by a man called Jonathan Rhodes. He had contacted quite a few women and all of them had rejected him. That would have made things much worse.

"Here's somebody - Alyssa Miles." Penelope pulled up a picture. "Totally his type." Brown hair, brown eyes and slim build. She fit the victim profile. He could hear Penelope's breath speed up and she began to talk faster.

Luke knew. He just knew in his gut. "That's his next target. Can you pull up an address?" Silly question, he knew she could.

"Yep. Just sent it to your phone."

"Alright, grab your laptop hotshot, let's go." He turned away from her and headed out of the room. He needed to get his bulletproof vest and find Penelope one too.

"I don't go with… I do go with!" she shouted. "I'm precious cargo!" Even though he could hear the fear and hesitation in her voice, she still did as he asked.

Her words echoed through his head - she was definitely precious cargo to him.

***

Outside Alyssa Miles house, Penelope had to swallow her fear as she set her laptop up on the white car and began to furiously type.

Luke wasn't helping matters. "Stop staring at me when I'm searching engining, it's weird." The truth was his stare made her nervous and she needed all her nerves intact if she were to stop this maniac. Feeling his eyes on her made her heart beat faster and her palms sweat.

"Sorry," he apologised as she typed faster and faster.

"She managed to keep ahold of her phone - can you do something with that?"

Penelope turned to him and felt a sliver of relief and hope. Yes, she most certainly could.

"That's helpful, you're helpful sometimes." Luke might have just saved Alyssa Miles' life.

***

Luke was driving not as if his life depended on it but life someone else's life did - because it was true. He had to get to Alyssa Miles and he had to get to her now.

"I've got eyes on him up there, you see?" Luke told her, watching as the car swerved in and out of traffic. Damn those driving games - that is where he got his skills from. He was fearless and that was a terrifying thought.

"Do you have to be so lurchy? I get carsick," she told him. Once again, there was fear in her voice.

Luke reached across the small space and gently placed his hand on her arm.

As they followed the car, Penelope began to panic.

"He's just very good."

"He's not as good as you, okay?" For some reason, she couldn't see it, she couldn't see how amazing she was. Luke watched her day in and day out, the things she had to face and the places she had to go on the internet to find what they needed. As far as he was concerned (and yes, he may be slightly biased), she was the best of the best.

She shrieked about dying and Luke had to roll his eyes at her dramatics. He could handle a car.

"Nobody is going to die today!"

Penelope continued to type and he could feel the movement of her arm under his hand. Then she stopped.

"I'm in!" she shouted. Luke felt a small portion of relief flow through his body. This was half the battle won.

He watched as the car rolled to a stop in front of them, about two feet away from the wall. He jumped out of the SUV immediately, drew his gun and stalked towards the car.

"FBI! Show me your hands!" The guy didn't know what to do. He hauled him out of the car.

As he patted him down and cuffed him, he saw that Penelope had gotten out too. She had gone around to the driver's side and pulled the tape from her hands that the unsub had used to keep her at the wheel. Penelope wrapped her arms around the traumatised girl and comforted her.

Over her head, they shared a look. The case was done. It was solved.

***

Penelope's heart dropped out of her stomach as she and Luke shared a look before she rose to her feet immediately. As Reid was led from the courtroom she placed her hands on the partition separating them, trying to get as close as she could to him. She wanted to shout that it would all be alright, that'd they fix this mess, that'd the judge had got it wrong. But there were no words. None of them seemed strong enough or good enough.

Her heart broke as he disappeared through a door. A tear fell down her face and behind her, she heard Luke stand and then felt him place a hand on her shoulder.

Her breathing was ragged; this could not be happening.

As she felt herself falling apart, Luke's other hand came up and squeezed her arm. He was strong and brave and right now, his hands on her were quite literally keeping her together. If he took his hands from her she was sure she would fall apart.

Penelope didn't remember much after that but as she sat in the offices at the FBI as everyone went home, she couldn't move.

"Penelope?" Luke called, coming to stand in front of her. "Are you alright?"

She could lie and say yes but she wore her heart on her sleeve. "No." She shook her head.

Luke knelt at her feet and took her hands in his. "Listen to me. We are going to catch Scratch and this is all going to disappear. Reid is innocent - we all know that."

Tears formed in her eyes and her throat got tight.

"I can't promise that it's going to be easy because it's not but we are going to do everything in our power to help Reid."

She nodded because she knew that but right now it didn't feel like enough.

"Shall I walk you to your car?"

She shook her head again. "No. I don't want to go home. I don't want to be alone."

"You don't have to be alone, chica." Luke stood and brought her with him. "You drive to your apartment and I'll follow. We can have some tea and talk."

Penelope took her hands from his and swiped at her eyes. "What about Roxy?"

"She'll be fine for a few hours." She had food, water, plenty of toys and a doggy door so she could come and go as she pleased.

"Okay."

Together, they left the offices and went to the respective cars in the parking lot. Luke followed Penelope back to her apartment and when they got inside she made them some herbal tea.

They sat on the couch together, Simon rubbing himself all over Penelope before going to Luke and investigating his trousers.

"I've known Reid for years… he'd never do something like this." Luke listened because that's all he could do. "He loves his mom and that's the only thing he's guilty of. How could anyone think he'd murder someone?" She held back tears of frustration. "He works for the FBI, he'd know how to cover his tracks if he wanted." She sighed. "He is one of the sweetest men I have ever met and he's being treated like some kind of criminal."

"It's a process - they have to treat him like any other suspect."

"But this is Reid - he isn't just anybody! He's boy genius, he's the man who had looked after his mother from a young age, he's the man who can tell you the most boring facts about shrimp, he's the man who has such a big brain inside his head but also a big heart to match!"

"Penelope - I know." Those words. Luke said them so softly and he was right. He did know. He'd only know Reid for a short time but he knew all these things were true. There wasn't anybody else like Spencer Reid on the planet.

Her eyes felt gritty and tired so she took her glasses off and rubbed them roughly before putting them back on. She let her head rest against the back of the sofa she was facing Luke and he did the same.

Her eyes traced over his face and with a slight amount of hesitation, Penelope leaned forward and placed her lips on his.

When she pulled away, Luke was looking at her. He brought one hand up to her face and stroked her cheek. Then, he leaned in and kissed her again.

The passion that overcame Penelope at that moment was instant. She pushed Luke back against the couch quite aggressively and kissed his neck, sucking on the tan skin.

"Penelope… stop." Luke's voice shocked her and she sat back.

"You don't want me," her words were quiet and there was hurt in her voice.

Luke gave a humourless chuckle. "I want you all the time, chica." As if to prove his point, Luke brought her palm to his jeans where there was an obvious bulge.

Before she could do anything he pulled her hand away and helped her to stand.

"I want you but not like this - not on the tail end of all this sadness." His hands cradled her face. "So I'm going to put you to bed and then I'm going to go back to my house and I'll see you at work in the morning."

Penelope was silent as Luke took her hand and led her through her small apartment to her bedroom. He stopped her when she stood next to her and slowly turned her around.

With a smile on his face, he began to undress her. It wasn't sensual, it wasn't erotic… it was caring and tender.

He slowly pulled her cardigan from her shoulders, folding it neatly and laying it on the chair in the corner of the room. Then he was back at her side, spinning her gently around to access the zipper at the back of her dress. He pulled it down until the dress fell from her body. He helped her step out of it and then brought his hands to her shoulders. He slid the straps of her bra down her arms and moved his hands around her back to unclasp the bra. Luke did it with such ease but he never took his eyes from hers.

Penelope pulled the bra away from her chest and let it fall to the floor.

"Pyjamas?" Luke asked quietly.

"Behind you, top left-hand drawer." Her voice was just as quiet.

Luke gave her a small smile and turned. He opened the drawer and pulled out the first nightie he found. It was purple with cats dotted all over it. It was so her.

He returned to her and slipped the soft cotton material over her head, brushing her hair out from the neckline when it fell down her body.

"Turn," he requested quietly.

Penelope did and Luke unclasped the black necklace from around her neck, gently laying it on the vanity next to them. Then he began to take the pins out of her hair. He did it slowly, combing his fingers through her golden tresses as he went, making sure that it didn't tangle.

When he was done with that he placed a hand on her shoulder and spun her once more. Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulder and pushed her towards the bed. When she sat down on it, he crouched down and took her heels from her feet.

Taking a minute, he rubbed the soft skin of her feet, pressing his thumbs into her arches until she gave a small groan of satisfaction.

He stood up and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

She slid back on the bed and tucked herself under the covers.

Luke pulled them up to her chin and stroked her cheek.

"Sweet dreams, chica."

Penelope watched as he turned his back and left, shutting the lights off as he went. She heard him whisper goodnight to Simon and then leave. She strained her eyes to hear his footsteps on the stairs and then his car engine start up.

By the time he pulled out of the parking lot, she was fast asleep. Her mind free from the sadness of the day.

[elliotlikespuke]

Can you please write another skam sickfic?? I’m thinking of one where isak has a migraine or he’s on a road trip with the other guys and gets carsick. There is simply not enough, I love your work!!

This was so much fun. I hope it lives up to expectations!

Vomit and PDA

Isak’s eyes were squeezed so tightly shut that colours were exploding behind them. The watercolours only proved to make him more nauseous. It was still better than trying to keep his eyes open.

The other four boys assumed he was asleep, and he was happy about that. If they thought he was sleeping, they wouldn’t say anything about the small noises he was making, except maybe to tease him when he woke up. The truth is, his stomach was trying to crawl into his throat. His head rested on Even’s shoulder, which really wasn’t that comfortable but he was happy for the physical comfort. One of the bones in Even’s shoulder was pressing into Isak’s temple, relieving a bit of the headache. He rubbed his head slowly up and down, massaging his pounding head.

Even sighed, and kissed Isak on the forehead. The other boys made fun, and Isak was glad they thought he was asleep. The car hit a bump which travelled right to his stomach. He groaned tiredly.

“You okay baby?” Even whispered to  him. Isak tried to shake his head, which consisted of smushing his cheek against Even’s arm. “Carsick?” Isak tried to nod. Even offered him water, but he shook his head. He was swallowing so much drool he may never need water again.

Isak had always gotten carsick, and Even knew it. Just two hours into a four-day car trip to Bergen, he was already ready to sob. The last time they had tried something like this, he had spent four hours spewing in the back of Even’s mom’s car. Why did he think this would be a good idea?

Even grabbed a bottle of water anyway, and held it on his lap just in case the need seized Isak.

“Are you going to throw up?” Even tried to keep his voice a whisper as not to alarm the other three boys. For teenage boys, they were surprisingly squeamish.

“You’re going to throw up?!” Magnus scrambled away as best he could despite being strapped in by an unforgiving seatbelt. Isak tried to shake his head, but was afraid to irritate his stomach anew.

“No,” he mumbled, heat rising to his cheeks with no relation to his nausea. His stomach fucking hurt and now Magnus was making a big thing of it. He hugged his arms around himself and tried to tuck his feet up onto the seat, curling into a ball. He swallowed back his embarrassment and leaned on Even again. He whimpered quietly, so only Even could hear. His boyfriend wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in close. It wouldn’t be the first time Isak had puked on him, if he didn’t make it to a bag on time. You can’t constantly get drunk with someone without accidentally puking on them once or twice.

It didn’t help that Isak had to piss. The pressure in his bladder had been building from his constant sips of water, trying to quell the rising nausea.

“Deep breaths,” Even whispered to him. Jonas and Mahdi were having their own conversation about music in the front seat and had remained blissfully ignorant of the conversation happening in the back. Still, Isak didn’t think Mahdi would take kindly to him spewing all over the backseat of his dad’s van.

Isak’s eyes shot open when the back of his throat went cold.

“Pull over,” he said as loudly as he dared.

Pulled out of his conversation about music, Jonas said, “You’re not serious.”

“Pull. Over.” Jonas swerved off the highway, barely remembering to put on his signal. Even opened his sliding door, getting stuck on the seatbelt he forgot to undo. He undid Isak’s seatbelt for him, preventing his fumbling boyfriend from getting stuck as well. Magnus was swearing excessively and loudly. Mahdi was complaining under his breath. Neither Even nor Isak paid them any attention, as Isak was already starting to heave.

Isak was determined not to fall to his knees. Puking in front of his friends was bad enough, he didn’t need to collapse. He braced his hands on his bent knees, holding himself up desperately. Even was behind him as soon as he started to gag, holding him by the chest to prevent him from toppling forward and rubbing his back with a practiced hand. The first stream was water, regurgitated after all his attempts to soothe his twisting stomach. The second had much more substance. The boys in the van, watching in fascination, revolted at the sight of it. Isak wished they would just shut up.

Even continued to soothe him, listening to the wet splatters on the shoulder of the road. He heard Isak choke a few times, and gently patted his back. His boyfriend made a horrible snorting sound, and a thin stream of vomit was expelled from his nose. Even’s heart ached, even as his stomach lurched. He would never get used to the sight of Isak puking. Somehow he was messier than anyone else he’d ever seen puke.

“Does anyone have any napkins?” Even called to the boys in the van. Reluctantly, Mahdi rolled down his window and leaned out, forking over the last of the napkins from their fast food feast. That definitely hadn’t helped Isak’s stomach. “Water too.”

Magnus pressed a bottle of water into his hand that wasn’t holding up his boyfriend.

Isak straightened, albeit gingerly. His stomach still felt tight, and his whole face felt on fire. His throat burned, not the pleasant burn from alcohol or weed, but the sickening, acidic burn of stomach acid. The burning spread through his mouth and sinuses, effectively roughening his voice and bringing tears to his eyes.

Even leaned forward and wiped at Isak’s dripping face with the brightly coloured napkins. The vomit stained them an awful brownish colour. The boys in the van, grossed out by both the display of vomiting and the display of affection, began to coo softly. Anything to bring levity back to the situation, Isak supposed.

Tears stung his eyes still, and he whined low in his throat, desperate to clear it of the acid. Even uncapped the water bottle with one hand, and gave it forth with a steady grip. Isak took it greedily, trying to limit himself to small sips. When small sips did nothing, he took a big gulp.

Being out of the car certainly helped, until Jonas called, “Can we get back on the road please? We’re already so behind.”

Isak sighed heavily, and with Even’s help sat back down in his middle seat. He rested his head on Even’s shoulder again.

“I’m just saying that if you puke on me, we’re not friends anymore.” To his credit, Magnus sounded serious.

[stomachflu]

03. request for @hold-my-hair-back. reed tries to ignore their illness during a special date night. tons of build-up and copious public vomiting ensues.

“Do I gotta dress up?”

“You should,” Maria said, adjusting the fabric of her dress around her shoulders. “It’s not that fancy of a place, but it’s, like... sit-down? Just wear a nice sweater, you’ll be fine.”

Reed groaned, shutting the door on their girlfriend. They’d been looking forward to this evening all week, but now that it was here, they just wanted to take the night off, maybe go to bed early. They’d been feeling... off all day, just kinda tired and overfull.

Maybe I ate too much for lunch, Reed thought, pulling their shirt off over their head. They looked like shit, their face pale and white, eyes red-rimmed. In the mirror, their belly was visibly distended, and they rested a hand on it, shivering as it gurgled and churned.

The full feeling didn’t go away, so Reed pulled a sweater on over a button-up, hoping that the layers would help hide how shitty they felt. They felt warmer, at least.

“Reed, come on! We’re gonna be late!” Lynn was knocking on the bedroom door, and Reed sighed, heading into the bathroom.

“Just a minute, jeez!”

Halfway through brushing their teeth, nausea surged in their belly, and they gagged around the toothbrush. Reed leaned over the counter for a long moment, muscles tense, but nothing came up, just thick strands of saliva that they spit into the sink.

Reed took a shaky breath, splashing water on their face and rinsing out their mouth. They couldn’t be sick, not now, not with a date to go on. The cold water did help, at least, because they didn’t feel quite as awful when they stepped out the door.

“You look great, hon,” Maria said, pulling them into a kiss. Lynn hugged them from behind, wrapping their arms around Reed’s sensitive stomach. A soft gag rose in their throat and they tamped it down, breaking off the kiss before they felt any worse.

“Is everything okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Just a little warm, that’s all.” Reed forced a smile as they headed out to the car and started up the engine. 

“You shouldn’t have worn so many layers,” Lynn said, smiling as she bucked her seatbelt. Reed knew she loved their sweater.

They pulled the car out of the driveway, flipping on their blinker. “Well, too late to change now!”

Driving took up most of Reed’s concentration, which was good, because they didn’t have to fake a smile or participate in the animated conversation happening behind them. The seatbelt put too much pressure on their middle, and the queasy feeling wasn’t going away. If anything, it was getting worse, their stomach rising in their throat several times on sharp turns. What the fuck was up with that? They never got carsick.

In that manner, arriving at the restaurant was somewhat of a relief. They were seated shortly, which meant that Reed could hunch over the table, resting their cheek on their hand. Maybe I’m just hungry, they thought as their nausea flared up again at the smell of food, their stomach gurgling uncomfortably. That was probably it.

"You're awful quiet," Lynn remarked, and Reed glanced up to realize that she was staring at them.

“Just... thinkin’. About what I wanna order.”

Nothing on the menu looked appetizing, and when the waiter came, Reed shrugged. “Just a sandwich for me, thanks.” Acid rose in their throat, and they muffled an airy belch into their hand. “’Scuse me.”

“That all, hon?” The waiter looked skeptical, as did Lynn and Maria. They were known for ordering twice as much in one sitting and packing it away with no problem.

“And, uh...” Reed scanned the menu, looking for something that would be gentle on their stomach. “And the noodles?” Eating would help, they reasoned.

Eating didn’t help. By the time their plate came, knew that something was very wrong. Waves of nausea were washing over them, their stomach churning into overdrive, their face hot. Each bite was a struggle to get down.

They finished their first plate and pushed the dish away, burping wetly into their napkin, afraid that something besides air would come up. Okay, so they were sick. They were sick, and really fucking nauseous, and probably going to puke at some point. That was fine, they could manage.

Lynn and Maria hadn’t noticed, carrying on an animated conversation about their majors, and Reed took the opportunity to slide their hand under their shirt, rubbing their stomach. Sweat beaded on their forehead, and they looked around for the restroom. Shit, they should’ve asked someone earlier.

The smell of food made their stomach swell, and Reed pressed a napkin to their lips, gagging softly into it.

Maria glanced over, a look of concern crossing her face. “Sweetheart, are you feeling okay? You’re really pale.”

“I’m...” A heave rose in their throat, and they swallowed hard. “I’m – buURP!” The end of their burp tapered off into a wet gag, and Reed jumped up, pushing back from the table with one hand on their stomach. “Gotta – hic! – go to the bathroom,” was all they could manage.

Three steps away from the table, Reed realized that they weren’t gonna make it. They stopped, bracing themselves with one hand on the back of an empty chair as their stomach lurched. The other hand hovered below their chin, hoping to catch whatever came out before they made a mess.

When they heaved again, though, it wasn’t a small mouthful of sick but a torrent of vomit that poured out of their mouth, splashing over their hand and onto their shoes. Distantly, they were aware of cries of disgust from the other patrons as they heaved again, another wave of puke splashing onto their sweater. 

A hand gripped their shoulder, and Reed swung around, trying to clamp down on the next gag and succeeding, only belching a mouthful of sick onto the growing pile on the floor. Lynn was rubbing their back, murmuring something about getting it all up, but they pulled away, shaking their head.

“Where’s – hmk! – the bathroom?”

“It’s down the hall, to your left, do you...” Lynn’s voice trailed off as they pulled away, walking towards the bathroom at a fast clip, one hand clapped across their mouth, the other pressed against their still-churning stomach.

They heaved again in the bathroom doorway, bracing themselves as a stream of vomit splattered onto the tile floor. A lady doing her makeup in the mirror shrieked, but Reed paid no mind, heaving and gagging in place until the wave was over, then falling to their knees inside a stall.

They had no idea how long they stayed there, gagging and belching helplessly, pressing on their aching stomach with both hands in a vain effort to try to bring the rest of their lunch back up. The few seconds of relief brought by vomiting were gone, and they were still a queasy, nauseous wreck.

Reed was a few seconds away from sticking their finger down their throat when the bathroom door opened again, and they felt Maria embrace them from behind, gathering their sweaty hair out of their face. The smell of her perfume overwhelmed them, and they heaved again, bringing up nothing.

“Not feeling so hot,” they said once they could open their mouth without gagging.

Maria kept stroking their hair. “You don’t say.”

“I took care of everything,” Lynn said from the doorway. “Bill’s paid and everything; I pulled the car around up front whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll drive,“ Maria added.

“‘M not...” Reed spit thick strands of saliva into the toilet. “Not done yet. Still gotta puke.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Maria ripped off a wad of toilet paper and used it to wipe their chin. “I think you’re done.”

Reed wanted to tell her about how full they still felt, how their stomach was still churning and waves of nausea were washing over them, but they were too exhausted, so they just shook their head.

“I got one of those to-go boxes from the staff,” Lynn added. “Here, if you’re gonna be sick again.”

She helped Reed stand up, supporting them with one arm over her shoulder, and together they shuffled out of the bathroom, Reed miserably clutching the open box to their chest. Their cheeks burned as they stepped around the puddles of vomit they’d left earlier. Normally, they weren’t fazed by body functions in the slightest, but here, with everyone staring at them...

“It wasn’t your fault,” Maria said, helping them into the car. “Here, turn and face me for a minute...”

They oblieged, and she pressed a cool hand to their forehead. “Oh, honey, you’ve really got a fever. Let’s try and get some medicine into you once we get home, okay?”

“Hmm,” Reed hummed, slumping against the open door. They closed their eyes and then opened them again to see Maria slipping into the front seat, Lynn helping buckle them in and then taking a seat beside them herself. They were dizzy enough that the world seemed to fade in and out, which didn’t help the growing nausea.

“Seems like this came on awful fast,” Lynn said. The car jostled as they went over a pothole, and Reed swallowed hard.

“Not – Not that fast. Was kinda feelin’ gross this afternoon. Nearly puked while brushing my teeth.”

Maria met their eyes in the rearview mirror. “Next time, tell us, okay?”

“I didn’t...” Reed paused, swallowing down acid. “I thought it would get better.” The car swerved around a curve in the road, and their stomach lurched. “Gonna be sick,” they said calmly, trying to keep their voice even as a gag rose in the back of their throat.

“Shit – Here –” Lynn fumbled for the empty Styrofoam takeout box, lifting the lid and shoving it into their arms. Reed gagged and belched weakly, spitting out a string of vomit. “Pull over, pull over!”

The loss of motion helped, but not enough. Reed heaved, sending a massive gush of vomit into the container, nearly filling it to the top. Lynn was rubbing their back again, but all they could manage was a hoarse “Sorry –” as a second heave overflowed the container, splattering vomit across their pants and the floor of the car. They belched again, adding a small pile of sick on top of the mess.

“Oh, honey." Reed hadn’t noticed that Maria had exited the car and come around to open the door on their side until she spoke. They spun around with a strangled gag and retched out of the side of the car, still held in place by their seatbelt. This time, they brought up several small, thin streams of puke, and then acid, and then nothing at all, dry-heaving again and again into the grass.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and then head home, hmm?” Maria said. “How does that sound?”

It sounded good, Reed had to admit.

[sickdaysofficial]

Day 2: Anywhere but here... too late

I’m on mobile so unfortunately can’t cut for read more :-( I hope that’s okay! These are OC characters.

Part two up on @anonyony1

CW vomit.

The second they pulled up outside, the horn was blaring.
“COME ON, HURRY UP!” Porter yelled through the window. Ozzy sat through the rolled down window on the passenger side. Vera was in the backseat, hiding her face in embarrassment, it seemed.
“I’m coming! Stop honking idiot! You’re gonna wake the whole neighborhood!” Liam laughed, hurrying across the front yard of his house. It was still dusk, the moon still going down and passing duties over to the sun.
“We’ve got a five hour car ride ahead of us! No time for worrying about the sleeping!” Porter yelled again.
For no real other reason than to shut him up, Liam picked up the pace.
When he reached the car, he reached through the window and pushed Porter’s head to the side playfully.
“You guys are dumbasses. Not you V,” he said quickly, saving himself from a scolding. He leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek and she rolled her eyes, laughing.
“Everyone buckled? Oz, put it in the GPS,” Porter said, and Ozzy started typing away before giving a more accurate ETA.
“Okay in five… and a half hours,
We’ll be camping!” 
Liam and Vera settled into the back seat getting more comfortable.
—–
“Okay guys, we’re stopping here and then we’re not stopping again until we need gas, we’ve got to check in in five hours, before the camp manager leaves,” Porter said, pulling into the gas station at the edge of town. They weren’t even ten minutes from Liam’s house, and already Porter and Ozzy had huge disagreements about the radio station.
Liam’s stomach growled when they pulled in, and Vera’s eyes widened.
“Wow, you hungry, babe?”
Liam blushed, “Yeah, I meant to grab a granola bar but I was being rushed,” he said, directing the second half of his sentence towards the front.
“Grab something in here, Fast Track gourmet!” Porter joked, referring to the gas station they were at.
Porter hopped out of the car to pump gas, Liam handed him a ten dollar bill for gas and headed in the store with Vera.
“Hey guys! Look at this stuff,” Ozzy called them across the store, pointing out the snacks and sandwiches sat on a display.
“Banana nut muffins are my favorite,” he said excitedly.
Vera laughed, grabbing herself a bottle of water and an apple.
“If you’re really hungry you should grab something big, Liam. We’re gonna be on the road a while,” she said, kissing his cheek and walking past him towards check out.
Liam’s stomach growled again and he made note of how hungry he was. He was at soccer late and had missed dinner the night before.
He perused the snacks and then moved on to the sandwiches, noticing a decent looking steak and cheese sandwich in a plastic container.
He grabbed the sandwich and a bag of chips from the rack and walked towards the register.
“Got everything?” Vera asked him, and he nodded, desperately wishing the cashier would hurry- he was starving. Once back in the car, Porter snacked on a bag of chips while Ozzy threw M&Ms in the air and tried catching them with his mouth.
“Hey, you drop those you clean ‘em!” Porter scolded.
“What- you wanna try?” Ozzy teased. Porter rolled his eyes, shifting the car into drive and pulling off.
“Alright! Last stop til’ camp!” 
Liam smiled, taking a giant bite of his sandwich. “Hey, look at the horses,” Ozzy pointed out, about twenty minutes later. They were out of town now, and there would pretty much only be cows and fields for the rest of the time, unless they went off course towards the interstate.
Liam closed up the box from his sandwich and gave a contented burp into his fist.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, cheeks turning red.
“It’s okay, you ate quick! How was it?” She asked. Liam thought about that. He’d finished the entire sandwich in such a hurry, he wasn’t even sure. He was just glad to not be hungry anymore.
“It was good! How’s your… apple?”
Vera laughed.
“The best gas station apple I’ve ever had.”
She leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder and he smiled.
“C'mon, Ozzy, we are NOT listening to that again, it’s played like three times already,” Porter insisted, grabbing the tuner button from Ozzy’s grasp. Vera and Liam got comfortable enough to fall asleep soon after. But when Liam woke up about an hour later, he realized his hunger was replaced with an uncomfortable fullness.
He shifted in his seat.
“You okay?” Vera asked, sitting up and blinking herself awake.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just… I think I ate too fast,” he said, stifling another burp.
“I’m sorry, I’m being gross.”
Vera shook her head.
“It’s okay, you want some water?”
She snapped the lid off her water bottle and offered it to him. Hesitantly, he took it and forced even more into his already full-feeling belly.
“You okay back there? Carsick, Liam?”
Liam shook his head, embarrassed.
“No, no, I’m fine, just ate too much. I’m okay.”
Porter met Liam’s eyes in the rear view mirror. He looked skeptical but, noting how embarrassed Liam was, looked away and dropped it.
Liam’s stomach gave a gurgle, much different than the ones before. He felt so full, but knew he hadn’t eaten that much. There was no way he was this stuffed from a little steak sandwich.
He leaned against the door, pulling the hood of his jacket onto his head and resting his head against the window.
Vera settled back in cautiously, obviously still worried about him. Liam couldn’t fall back asleep, though. The minutes seemed to take hours and he felt more and more bloated as they went on. He was sipping tepid swallows of water and trying desperately to make it go away.
A cramp shot through his belly and he held a firm hand on it, grimacing. He was trying extremely hard not to draw more attention to himself. He was already mortified.
They hit a bump in the road and Liam’s stomach jostled everything in him.
Vera was sleeping soundly on his shoulder and Ozzy was snoring soundly, too in the front. Porter’s eyes were focused solely on the road ahead.
Liam couldn’t move, for fear of stirring Vera. He closed his eyes tight as an uncomfortable new feeling started up: nausea.
Liam’s stomach turned and flipped as he sat there, praying Porter would magically know without him having to tell him.
No such luck. Liam sucked in a breath and held it as long as he could. 
“Hey, uh,” he spoke up with a shaky voice, “how much longer do we have?”
Porter checked the GPS.
“Oh, looks like another three hours. Good news is we’re out of the hustle now, just fields until we’re there. Might not even see another car.”
Great, Liam thought. He pressed his sweaty forehead into the window, trying to cool down.
Another thirty or so minutes passed before Porter swerved in order to miss a turtle. The several cars behind him, and the ones coming towards him all honked. He was surprised they had found traffic in the middle of nowhere. A giant sign marking the “Tulip Festival” in the upcoming town gave him some sign of what was going on. Vera sat awake immediately and Ozzy took a moment to stir. Liam grimaced as his stomach flew to his throat, suddenly aware that it wasn’t because he ate the sandwich too fast, but because he ate the sandwich, period.
“Jeez, Porter! You could have killed us,” Vera scolded.
“I’m not gonna kill a turtle just to save you guys, what do you think I am, a monster?” He joked.
“We coulda had turtle soup at camp! How do you expect to be a real outdoorsman?” Ozzy laughed.
“They have grills at the campsite, dumbass,” Vera said, smiling.
“Really? Do they? I want a Survivorman experience! We’ve been gipped.” They turned to Liam, seemingly all realizing at ice that he had not contributed to their banter. Liam was a sickening shade of green, sitting with his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open, breathing hard through his nose. He didn’t dare speak. “Liam?! Liam what’s wrong?!” Vera asked, calling attention to him, but he was too far gone to be upset about that now he gripped the fabric of his jeans and groaned.
“’M… I… I’m gonna be sick,” he said, marking the end of his proclamation with a convincing burp. “Oh, shit,” Porter said, 
“Pull over!” Vera yelled.
“I can’t! It’s too steep here!” Porter said, and he was right. If they pulled off on the steep shoulder, his car would end up in a ditch. Then they’d have worse problems than some ruined interior.
Porter sped up as much as he could, but he was in a precarious situation, jammed between two cars. “Hold on, Liam! Does anyone have a bag? Give him a bag!” They all shifted around, looking for a bag. But because of Porter’s environmentally friendly approach to everything, there were no bags from the store. He was kicking himself for that now. “Liam, can you just hold on another minute?” Vera asked the sick boy. His face was ashen and his jaw was quivering.
“I don’t… I don’t, think so,” he said, gagging.
He leaned forward, folding his arms over his lap and ducking his head.
“I feel so sick…” he slurred.
“I know, I know you do,” Vera rubbed his shoulders, “Porter, come on!” 
“I can’t go anywhere! I can’t stop here!”
They hit another bump as Porter sped to reach an even shoulder up ahead.
“Ohh… I can’t,” Liam said, but then lurched forward, and with a wet burp, a thick wave of predigested Fast Track Gourmet was on his lap. He gagged at the sight of it, adding more to the mess.
“Oh, Liam,” Vera sympathized.
“Fuck,” Porter said, but not in an angry way. He felt bad for Liam. It wasn’t his fault.
“Oh, god,” Ozzy grimaced, having a particularly weak stomach himself. He pulled his collar of his shirt over his mouth and nose and stuck his head out the window.
Porter rolled down the back windows for Liam and Vera.
Liam spat into his lap, realizing now that there was already a mess. He may as well stop holding back.
“Are you okay? Do you feel any better?” Vera asked gently. He shook his head, pressing the back of his hand into his lips and biting at the skin.
“Here! The shoulder!” Porter exclaimed, finally. He pulled over and Vera hopped out of the car, running over to Liam’s side. She opened the door and he wearily fumbled with his seatbelt.
“Oh, Liam, you poor thing,” she said, rubbing a hand through his sweaty hair and clicking the seatbelt for him.
He staggered out of the car, leaning against the pole of a fence which held back some sort of animal in a pasture.
He gagged silently and another wave of food followed, then the water he’d been sipping. His stomach was fairly empty since he’d skipped dinner, but what he was fairly certain was his lunch from the day before came up.
Liam retched into the grass and grimaced at his messed up clothes. He felt disgusting. Drool hung from his bottom lip as he leaned over, expectingly.
Porter was by his side, leaving Ozzy to try to keep his own stomach under control in the circumstances. “Liam, it’s okay, you gotta breathe, baby,” Vera soothed. Porter grabbed the water bottle from the car and brought it to Liam.
“Here, man, get a drink, wash your mouth out.”
Liam shook his head, holding a hand up.
“’M not done… I can feel it… it’s all turning inside me,” he groaned, retching unproductively. “Shit, babe, you’re really sick,” Vera realized, biting at her nail and looking at Porter worriedly.
They were still an hour and a half away from the town holding the Tulip Festival. “I feel sick, I feel so sick,” Liam said, swiping at his nose. “What do we do?” Vera asked Porter.
“We’re almost three hours away from home,” she reminded him.
“I know, I know… let me think,” he plead, heading over to Ozzy. “Vera, I’m gonna puke again,” Liam assured her.
“Liam, I don’t think you have anything left, baby.”
“Well then I’m gonna send up my liver,” he said, being cut off by a particularly strong retch. “No cell phone signal,” Porter reported back to them.
And no other cars around anymore.
Vera’s concern rose.
“What are we gonna do?” She asked,
“Do we even have enough gas to get back to where we came from?”
Porter frowned, “I didn’t think about that, I don’t know.”
Liam retched again, this time, a foul wave of bile came up through his nose and mouth. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks from exertion, and, if he wasn’t being too proud, probably a little from misery. “Okay, first things first, let’s get you out of that shirt,” Porter said, stepping into the leader-role. Liam stood up straight, shakily tugging at his shirt.
Porter grabbed his shirt from the bottom and carefully pulled it over his head, successfully managing to do so without making a bigger mess on the poor boy. He stood there, shirtless, and his normally toned belly was visibly bloated.
“Oh, God, Liam,” Porter gasped. “Hurts,” Liam said, hiccuping miserably.
“I’m sure. God, okay. Let’s, uh, get some water in you. You think you can handle some water?” He asked. 
Liam gave him a disgusted face.
“You gotta try baby,” Vera said, holding his swaying body steady.
Porter popped the cap off the bottle and handed it to Liam, who took it in a shaky hand.
He lifted it to his mouth and swished it around in his mouth before spitting it out.
He took a swig, swallowing it like a brick.
“Ugh, I can’t,” he scowled, squeezing his eyes shut and pushing the water bottle back towards Porter. He promptly doubled over and gagged the water back up.
“Okay, new plan. We’re gonna get you back in the car, and we’re gonna get you somewhere that can help you or find you some medicine, okay?”
Liam pressed his fingers into his eyes.
“I’m gonna puke again,” he whined.
Porter ran to the car and instructed Ozzy on what to do. Ozzy made quick use of himself, laying out the towels they’d brought along for swimming in the back seat. Ozzy emptied out an old beach bag for Liam’s use.
He grabbed his own pillow and sat it against the door of the car, forming a make-shift bed for Liam. He grabbed a sleeping bag, and unzipped it so that it formed a blanket.
By the time Porter and Vera convinced a very hesitant Liam to get back in the car, the back was set up for maximum comfort — given the current situation, anyways.
Liam stopped by the trunk and Vera helped him pull a pair of gym shorts from his bag. He pulled his messed up jeans from his hips and weakly pulled the shorts and a new t-shirt on.
Porter placed the ruined clothes in a large trash bag he’d brought along to keep up with the garbage from their camping trip and tied it closed.
He took a rag and attempted to clean the mess from his car seat with water. Most of the mess had landed on Liam, so it wasn’t hard to clean, but he would definitely need to take care of that later, once they were out of immediate danger. Liam laid, trembling in the back seat with his head in Vera’s lap on the pillow. His teeth were chattering. He curled in on his stomach, pulling his legs towards his chest. 
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I ruined this trip,” he said, moaning as a pain hit his stomach.
“Don’t apologize! You couldn’t help it,” Ozzy assured him.
The car smelled like sick and all windows were kept down to alleviate the stench. Liam was sweating into the pillowcase, shaking hard. Vera rubbed his back, trying to soothe him, to no avail.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” she whispered.
He nodded weakly, his stomach turning once more.
Porter cranked the car and raced forward. He had to have been going at least 80 miles an hour when Liam retched again, into the bag this time. A disgusting splattering sound filled the car and Liam’s friends were more surprised than anything to know he had more left in him. Liam spat, in clear pain and only growing weaker from dehydration and the vomiting.
“Shh, it’s okay, Liam,” Vera rubbed his back. “It’s not, I’m gonna die,” he coughed. 
“You’re not gonna die, dude. You just have food poisoning. No more questionable sandwiches from gas stations, okay?” Ozzy quipped.
Liam grimaced at the mention of food, particularly the offending sandwich. Porter had never been one for speeding, in fact, he was terrified of speeding, and driving for that matter, but his friend was seriously sick at this point. He only hoped that the town with the Tulip Festival had more than just one stop light, but he was unsure. He only had a little over a half a tank of gas left. Not enough to get him back home, but just barely enough to get him to the upcoming town, Taversville. After careful deliberation, he and Ozzy had decided to move forward instead of turning back. He drove as quickly as he could, and no other cars were on the road for miles it seemed. Liam was worse for wear by the time an hour had passed. He had vomited twice more, and only now the nausea was intensifying with nothing in his stomach.
He laid still, curled up on himself and moaning loudly.
The attention he was drawing to himself was certainly cause for concern, as they knew if his pain was manageable, there was no way he’d be making these sounds.
Vera laid a hand across his angry stomach, which churned violently under her hand. He held his hands over hers, pressing into his stomach, trying to get some relief.
“Liam, sweetheart, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” she promised, terrified she might be lying to him. If there wasn’t a store or a doctor in this town, she didn’t know what they would do. Liam burped queasily, but it seemed as though he had absolutely nothing left to come up.
“Liam, just another hour, we’re so close,” Porter assured him, keeping an eye on the lowering gas gauge.
He had a little over a quarter of a tank by now. His tank didn’t hold much gas, which, he guessed, was the downsides to having an environmentally friendly car. He kicked himself for that too, just a little. Liam responded with another burp, seemingly unable to control them. He pressed his hands into his stomach again. “Liam, do you want to try more water?” Vera begged. Liam shook his head defiantly. “No.” “Liam, please-” her voice cracked, and she was on the verge of tears. Her nerves were on edge seeing her boyfriend this way.
That got his attention. He blinked blearily at her and grabbed the water bottle. Timidly, he turned it up and swallowed some water, enough to satisfy her, he hoped. He laid his head back down and covered his eyes with his hand, increasingly nauseous now. He wanted to will himself to hold it down, but he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to. “Try and hold it down, Liam, you’re really getting dehydrated,” Porter reminded him. “Ugh,” he frowned, furrowing his brow. Sweat beads were formed on his face now, as he kneaded at a cramp in his stomach. He wished someone would knock him out. “Forty more minutes, Liam. We’re almost there,” Vera soothed, rubbing his hair. Porter and Ozzy spoke quietly amongst themselves.
“We’re getting really low on gas…” Ozzy noted.
“I think… maybe we can make it,” Porter sounded unsure.
He pressed the gas a little more for good measure, speeding up to 90. “Look, Liam can survive a bout of food poisoning but we will not survive a wreck at 90 miles an hour,” Ozzy said, bringing Porter back to reality. “Calm down, it’s okay, we’re gonna be okay,” Ozzy said, turning the radio on the station Porter initially wanted to listen to before Ozzy commandeered it. Porter smiled and nodded. 
“We’re gonna be okay.” Liam groaned again, dry heaving into the bag, ruining the moment and bringing back some severity to the car. “Oh, God! It feels like, like my insides are trying to come out,” he said, body stiffening.
“I swear to God, I’ll never eat again,” he swore. Vera rubbed his stomach, trying with all her might to soothe his aching belly. “Look!” Ozzy shouted, pointing out the first sign they’d seen in a while for Tarversville.
“Oh, only 30 miles. We’re so close, Liam,” Porter said. Liam said nothing, but pressed his head deeper into the pillow as his cheeks filled with another burp. He was astoundingly pale, and Vera couldn’t believe how terrible he looked. She had never seen him this way. His eyes were closed, and soon his shaky breathing evened out. She was thankful he had finally worked himself into sleep. About twenty minutes later (it should have taken forty), they pulled into Tarversville.
It was a tiny town, only houses around as much as they could see. He slowed his driving accordingly. Then, they pulled up on a convenience store. “Thank god,” Porter said, jumping out of the car as soon as it was stopped. He walked in the tiny store, the bells on the creaky glass door jingled announcing his arrival. “You sure look like an out-of-towner!” Exclaimed the lady behind the counter with giant, curled hair and red lipstick. “I am! My friend, he’s really sick. We were going to the mountains but he’s… I think he’s got food poisoning, and he’s really sick. Is there a hospital? Or a doctor?” “Oh, that’s awful, honey,” she lady said, “but there’s no doctor near here and the closest hospital is forty miles away… there’s an inn down the street you should be able to stay at for the night, it’s on Main Street.” She wrote the notes down on a piece of paper.
“And go, look at the medicine aisle, there might be something to help your friend,” she gestured towards shelves in the middle of the store containing various generic medicine. Porter grabbed a giant bottle of Pepto-bismol, the biggest one he’d ever seen, some antacids, and some sort of stomach relaxer. He walked towards the fridge and grabbed several bottles of Gatorade. He walked up towards the lady again, Betty, as her name tag announced, and pulled out his wallet.
“Oh, no honey, take ‘em and get your friend in a bed. I wrote my number on the bottom in case y'all need help,” she said, her southern drawl particularly standing out.
“Thank you, thanks so much,” Porter said, hurriedly stuffing the things into the plastic bag she handed him. As much as it pained him, he had no time for moral objections right now. He hurried into the car and typed the address into his GPS.
“The doctor?” Ozzy asked.
“No, no doctor.”
Ozzy’s eyes grew wide, and they weren’t sure if Liam or Vera had heard as there were no shouts from the back. “No doctor for miles. He has to get out of this car. There’s a hotel up the street. I think maybe we can handle this if we just get him comfortable.” Ozzy blinked at Porter, but then checked his phone for signal, which there was none. “God, okay then, let’s go,” he said, peeking into the back to check on Liam. He really hoped they could handle this.