Tara's Fics

They/Them--A side blog for my fics.  No longer posting   Ao3- dvixiecups

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Rules of Requesting!

To start off, I reserve the right to ignore requests I don’t feel comfortable writing.

What I’m comfortable with writing Illness

Injury

Most angst topics (mental and physical)

Reader inserts

What I will not write

Sub-naval illness

Stomach rubs

Anything burp-centric

Life threatening illness (appendicitis is a grey area)

Sexual interactions 

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Well this is awkward... I’ve fallen out of the Haikyuu fandom a little while back.  I’ve been delaying posting this in hopes of being able to reignite my interest in writing material for the series but I can’t.  I might upload my unfinished drafts so they don’t go to waste.

[haikyuu-sickfics]

you want fic, you get spongebob

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Ah yes, September.  Time for me to finally fill the Halloween prompts from last year :D

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Well....

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Ah yes, September.  Time for me to finally fill the Halloween prompts from last year :D

[haikyuu-sickfics]

how many requests do u have :D?

50, but I'm planning on combining a couple!! I also have a lot half written :D

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THANK YOU FOR ANSWERING MY ASK YOU ARE AN AMAZING AUTHOR 💜💜💜💜💜

Waah!!! Thank you for requesting!!!

[haikyuu-sickfics]

you're back ! hi!!

hi!! :D

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Vomit Warning!

-

-

He was overthinking, he knew he was.  Osamu always got like this when hanging with others- becoming hyper aware of their every move while making mental notes on their physical well being.  Majority of the time, he worked himself to a sweat with anxiety over worrying about whether or not a friend was about to be sick in front of him, only for said person to be completely fine.

So, if the odds were anything to go by- Osamu had no true reason to fret over Rintarou.  In all senses, the latter was acting normal.  Save for a few complaints of a headache, but that wasn't anything to worry about.

But, since minds do not work so simply, Osamu worried.

He worried until his hands slid against each other in sweat, a spinning ball of anxiety lodging it's way deeper and deeper into his chest.  Everytime Rintarou's shoulders leaped with a stifled burp or hiccup, Osamu could feel the dread in his stomach getting colder.

Swallowing deeply, he finally decided to confirm or deny his suspicious.

"Hey...  Are you okay?" He questioned quickly, trying his best to keep his voice steady.

"Mn, I think I ate some bad fish, I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

Osamu almost passed out from the white panic blinding him from hearing those words muttered so nonchalantly.  He brought his knees up to his chest, scooting to the corner of the bed opposite of Rintarou and pressing himself against the wall.

"Oh.  Well, um...  maybe get some water, I guess,"  Osamu was trying as politely as possible to get his friend away from him, his legs feeling too weak to carry himself out the door.

"No, like I think I'm gonna throw up right now," Rintarou sat up, his left hand resting gently on his stomach.

"What are you doing?" Osamu was losing control over himself, his voice rising, "go to the fuckin' bathroom!"

"Woah!  What's-" Rintarou was cut off with a sharp gag, forcing him to bend over himself at the edge of the bed, "with the sudden attitude?"

"Get out!  Get out!  There's gonna be a mess and, and it's gonna be bad and go, just go, now!" Osamu hugged his knees to his chest, burying his eyes into the fabric of his sweatpants.

"Are you okay?" Rintarou drifted closer to his friend, worry overpowering his nausea.

It wasn't like the latter to act this way- the two talked to each other about almost everything without any such reaction.  Seriously, the stories they've shared with each other is enough to give any child nightmares.  Usually they just laughed it off.  If anything, Rintarou was expecting Osamu to cackle in his face with some taunts about being careless.

"Go away!  Back up!" Osamu pressed himself further into the wall, pain shooting down his spine as the bones rubbed against the textured surface.  His legs kicked out uselessly in front of him, only succeeding in messing up the bed as opposed to burrowing him into the wall.

Rintarou was fully prepared to ignore Osamu's wishes and pursue the subject, but a sudden pull in his stomach forced his head away in instinct to keep the sheets unsoiled.  Saliva poured relentlessly in his mouth, threatening to choke him if he didn't swallow.  So swallow he did.  Though, the foul tasting liquid only made it halfway down before his stomach shot the guilty lunch back up.

Rintarou covered his mouth as he stood onto numb legs.  The thin barrier was about as useless as the Maginot Line, the hot sick forcing it's way around and landing on the floor of Osamu's bedroom.

Osamu screamed out, his eyes squeezed shut as his hands pressed against his ears with enough force to break a glass jar.

Rintarou flinched away from the noise, already disoriented from the nausea.  Checking up on his friend didn't even reach his mind before another wave of vomit forced it's way out of his mouth.

"What's goin- shit!" Atsumu cursed as he flung the door open and took in the scene in front of him, "Shit, fuck, shit!  Rin go to the bathroom!"

Atsumu made his way over to his twin, being careful to avoid the puddles of illness.

"Samu, samu, hey I'm here," Atsumu half whispered, gently placing his hand on Osamu's tense knee.

Still far from reality, Osamu flinched away from the comforting touch.  It quickly became appearant the spiker would not be able to deescalate with the smell of Rintarou's stomach permeating the room.

"Hey, can you walk?  Let's go outside, 'kay?"

Osamu shook his head, keeping it protected between his arms and knees.  His back arched shakily as a shuddering breath filled his lungs.

Ignoring his outright refusal, Atsumu practically dragged his twin outside.

"Okay breathe in.  The air smells nice doesn't it?"

Osamu nodded shakily, his breath catching in wavering hiccups.

Atsumu pulled Osamu into his chest, steadily rubbing the latters back.  This wasn't the first time the two were in this position.  Which was good and bad in ways.  Good, since it gave Atsumu the experience to quickly soothe his twin, but bad for rather obvious reasons.

The two sat in silence for a couple minutes, the settled air only breaking once the front door creaked open.

Rintarou stood their, twiddling with his fingers awkwardly.

"Hey, I'm uh.  Sorry about that," Rintarou offered quietly.

Osamu curled deeper into the warm body at the voice, pressing his ears against the fabric of his brothers shirt.

"I, uh, don't mean to intrude but.  What was, or is, that about?" Rintarou asked.

"He has a phobia, he should calm down soon."

"Can.  Can I take over for you?"

"Oh sure," Atsumu scooted away, grateful to be away from his twin.

Not in a rude way, but now that his twin wasn't in immediate crisis, Atsumu had something better to do with his afternoon.

Rintarou sat across from Osamu who kept his eyes on the floor between them.

"Sorry for yelling at you.  I just get really, uh, I don't know.  Whenever someone gets like that around me I kinda stop thinking."

Rintarou was a bit stunned at the apology.

"You don't need to say sorry.  I kinda get how you feel.  This sounds really stupid but whenever someone lets their dog run towards me I get really scared and upset at the owner."

Osamu chuckled, shyly looking into Rintarou's eyes.

"Really?  You're afraid of dogs?"  Osamu laughed a little louder, sniffling and wiping the tears from his eyes.

Seeing the sparkling light return to his friends eyes brought a smile to Rintarou's own cheeks.  Before he knew what was happening, his hand cupped Osamu's left cheek.

His thumb gently rubbed under Osamu's weary eyes, which widened softly at the touch.

"Oh sorry.  I don't know why I did that," Rintarou quickly placed his hand on the ground, annoyed at his body's uncontrollable movements.

"No," Osamu placed his hand on Rintarou's, his soft smile widened, crinkling the corners of his eyes, "don't apologize."

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Can you do one where Y/N is really sick and kuroo and Bokuto take care of Y/N but Y/n doesn’t want them to know? If you can ☺️✨ and I love you work bye❤️

Throbbing pain pounded against Y/n's head in unison with the blaring pitch of the alarm on the side of their bed. Pressure pressed gently against their sinuses, hinting towards the runny nose which is sure to come. A small itch persisted up and down their throat, threatening to develop into a coughing fit with each breath.

All instincts told Y/n to take a day off- it was a weekend and there were no Nekoma manager duties which needed to be get done promptly, perfect day to sit back and watch a couple movies. Except, they had plans. Months ago, Tetsurou, Koutarou, Yukie and Y/n and had discussed this day in hopes of having a bonding day with the captains and third year managers. It was an annual occurance for the four to all have the day off, there was no way Y/n was going to let a little cold get in their way.

Rubbing their eyes with a groan, they pulled themselves upright against vertigo. They sat with their legs over the edge- rooted to the floor for a moment, slamming the alarm until the incessant beeping ceased. Rubbing the sleep from their sore eyes, they fumbled their hand on the nightstand in search of their phone.

Various texts lit up on the screen, revealing Yukie's inability to show up to their agreed meeting and the two aces grand disappointment at such news.

There was no way Y/n could call out now. The boys wouldn't be able to handle such disappointment.

Groaning once more, considerably more exaggerated this time, Y/n pulled themselves to their feet, stumbling down the hall to the nearest bathroom. The wall held them up more than their legs did.

Looking into the mirror, they weren't too surprised at the sight which greeted them. Disappointing? Yes. But when feeling so awful, it wasn't expected to look like a runway ready model.

Though, the dark circles around their eyes did kinda look like some cool grungy makeup. Maybe they could pull off this look... Or maybe that was the fever talking.

Not that they had a fever, or so they didn't think so. Their motto was 'if there aint proof, it aint there.' So until someone shoved a thermometer into their mouth and showed them the high numbers, they were completely fine.

A coughing fit forced its way of of their body, ricocheting around their chest as their body's way of saying 'what type of logic is that you expired carton of single serving size 2% milk.'

Turning on the faucet and cupping their unsteady hands under the stream and splashing their face. Closing their eyes, Y/n rubbed the cool water over their scalp. Dabbing their face with a towel resting on a rack behind them, they took special care in rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

Satisfied with the dryness of their face, they set off with the beginning of their routine.

---

--

-

The air was cold.

So very cold.

Y/n's knees shook as they walked to the meeting place, nearly collapsing from the relief of the familiar park table. Quickening their pace, they slid to a sitting position, folding their hands on the dewy table and keeping an eye out for her peers.

The pair of players were known for being late, though. Y/n didn't know how long they could keep their heavy head up. So they decided to rest it on their hands. Just to get a little energy. And hey. While they were at it, may as well close their eyes. It's not like they'll fall asleep or anything. They were good at staying aware with their eyes closed. That was for sure. They had remembered whole lectures while their eyes were resting. This will be no different.

-

--

---

"Are they okay?" Tetsurou asked as he approached the table where his two friends sat.

Koutarou shrugged, "they were like this when I got here, I poked their shoulder but they kinda growled at me. I don't know, it was scary. So I just waited here for you."

Testurou walked over to Y/n, crouching down next to them, examining their face. Heat radiated off of their sleeping face, causing his eyebrows to rise.

"Hey bro," he spoke quietly, "I think they're sick."

"No way dude, Y/n like never gets sick."

"There's a first time for everything, I guess."

He shook Y/n's shoulder gently, ignoring their sleepy complaints.

"C'mon you gotta get up, unless you want us to carry you home."

Y/n's eyes blinked open.

"It's about time you got here, I almost fell asleep in the time it took you to arrive," Y/n slurred, their voice gravelly.

"Yup came real close to falling asleep there. Say, why don't we go to your house?" Tetsurou offered, scooping his hands under their shoulders.

They laughed drowsily, "why are you tickling me? And why go home? Home is for like. Homers... Homies."

Koutarou spoke up, placing his hand over Y/n's, "Aren't we homies though?"

"Ohh yea! That's right. Let's go homies home!" Y/n began to push themselves up, not realizing the majority of their strength came from Testurous firm hands.

"I'll lead the way," they offered, tripping over their own feet as they stepped ahead.

"Mayyyybe that's not such a good idea when you're sick," Tetsurou argued, him and Koutarou taking hold of Y/n's arm.

"What do you mean sick? Are you insulting me?"

"Okay, okay! You're not sick. Be my guest, walk on your own," Tetsurou released his hold, nodding towards Koutarou to do the same.

Brushing off their shoulders Y/n began walking once more.

"You sure we should let them go ahead like that?" Koutarou whispered, anxiously eyeing Y/n's shaky footwork.

"Three. Two," Tetsurou stepped behind Y/n, "One."

Right on queue, Y/n collapsed into his arms.

"Now help me out. We sure hurry to their house before someone thinks we're kidnappers."

----

--

-

Warmth surrounded Y/n as their eyes fluttered open. A bright light flooded their vision Why was it warm all of a sudden? Weren't they at the park? Did they sleep through the whole morning?

No, that wasn't the sun. That was an artificial light. And they weren't laying on a bench, it was too soft for that.

"Good morning sleepyhead!" A familiar voice sang.

Y/n shot up, nausea induced vertigo sending them blinking to regain composer.

"Koubo? What are you doing here?" They asked, planting a firm hand on the side of their head.

"It's a really funny story, but there's time for that later. Here, have some soup."

He sat down at the edge of Y/n's bed, tucking a steaming bowl of soup under their chin before bringing a spoonful up to their mouth.

Y/n let their mouth open, mostly out of confusion.

The soup was sweet, but also a bit savory. Surprisingly good considering the chef. Assuming Koutarou was the chef. Who else would be?

"Oh! You're up," Testurou exclaimed, entering the room with a 'Kiss the Chef' apron on.

Y/n practically spat out their soup.

"You're both here?" They choked out, "what happened?"

"What happened was someone doesn't know when to take a sick day," Tetsurou informed, taking seat at the foot of the bed.

Y/n shook their head, "I don't know what you guys are saying."

"YOU. ARE. SICK." Koutarou enunciated clearly.

"Oh."

"Want some tea?"

"I just wanna sleep."

"Okay we can go," Koutarou began to stand.

Y/n grabbed his arm.

"Stay."

[haikyuu-sickfics]

I have a request if you don't mind!! Atsumu and Osamu's first time on a plane and Osamu gets horribly plane sick and atsumu has to be doting older brother and take care of him!

Vomit Warning!

"This is awesome!" Atsumu cheered, pulling his shoes back on after passing security.

"What's so awesome about standing in line for an hour?" Osamu countered, leaning forward to stretch their back.

It was four o'clock in the morning. Atsumu had forced his twin out of bed at one to arrive here at two for their plane which departed at six. Osamu was far less than pleased, lazy tendrils of sleep still clinging to their every move.

"C'mon, get in the vacation spirit!" Atsumu pulled his twin into a side hug.

"No, thanks," Osamu pulled away, double checking the ticket in their hand for the correct gate, "but Mr. Vacation, what d'ya plan for the two hours."

"People watch, duh."

Closing their eyes in frustration, Osamu grabbed their luggage and made their way down the vast, well-lit, corrider.

"Why did I let you talk me into this again?" they mumbled under their breath, mostly to themselves.

-

As expected, time passed horrendously slow. Each second ticking by at a snails pace, the blaring white lights boring through Osamu's pupils even with their eyes closed. In addition, a dull headache was beginning to ebb at the edges of their temples. Despite this, a faint sense of unconciousness fell over them. Some odd world between awake and asleep which one may only find themselves suspended in while at an airport.

They were rudely pulled out of this not-quite-relaxed state by a hand on their shoulder and a flight attendants echoing announcement.

"Get up, it's boarding time," Atsumu informed, "You can sleep on the plane."

Osamu shrugged Atsumu's hand off, stretching out their legs while wiping sleep from their eyes. A faint headache gnawed behind their eyes, but that was normal for the amount of sleep recieved.

"Don't even try talking to me on the plane," Osamu threatened half-heartedly.

-

Osamu regretted saying that.

They had managed to catch a wink of sleep before the plane had started and while it was taxiing, but an irksome nausea settled in his gut as soon as the hunk of metal lifted off the ground. At first they had attributed it to the hunger, but that idea was quickly shot down when the sight of food on the menu sent their stomach roiling.

They wanted nothing more but for Atsumu to ask them what was wrong. Of course, they wouldn't start the conversation- that would be admitting defeat- but if their twin happen to ask, they couldn't just lie.

But for one in his life, Atsumu was listening to Osamu and keeping his mouth sealed. And the latter never wanted to punch him more for it.

What did finally arouse suspicion in the dense twin was Osamu asking for Sprite.

"Samu? You ok?" Atsumu questioned, pulling out his right earbud as Osamu took a tentative sip of the bubbly drink.

Lacking the will to open their mouth- much less use their voice- Osamu shook their head no.

"Are you that tired? Try reclining a little and gettin' some shut-eye."

Osamu pointed to his stomach before covering his mouth. Atsumu quickly sat up.

"Woah woah, hey what'cha doin there, huh?"

Glaring softly at his twin, Osamu's shoulders lurched with a gag, his muscles tensing with strain.

"Right. Right. Bag okay, um where is it," Atsumu patted his pockets in panic until Osamu took things into his own hands and reached into the pocket of the seat in front of him.

His hands shook ruthlessly, keeping him from opening the bag. Silently, he begged Atsumu to help him. But his twin being... well, his twin. Atsumu took no notice of Osamu's plight.

Not until his 'plight' displayed itself in a sickly chunky liquid dripping from his mouth to his hands before pooling on his lap like a water fountain from a horror movie.

Those nearby scrunched their noses in disgust, making a show of leaning away from the spectacle.

Feeling embarrassment tingling at his gut, Osamu helplessly sat by as another mouthful of sick rolled out.

A flight attendant hurried over, carrying a plastic garbage bag in their hands.

"Sorry," Osamu croaked out, feeling quite awful for the staff who was left to deal with the mess he made.

"Oh, it's okay. First time flying? Don't worry, this happens all the time. If you would like a change of clothes we could provide you with some. We can't gurrantee they will fit, but I'm sure anything will be better."

Osamu nodded his head at the offer of new clothing, he refused to make eye contact with the source of the lovely voice.

"Now who would've thought. What kinda piss-poor luck do you have? It's like you were born anti-fun,"

"Can it you low budget Paristan."

"Wow, and right when I was gonna ask if you were alright. Now I see how you really feel about me," Astumu paused, waiting for Osamu to continue their petty dispute.

When he didn't Atsumu felt one thing.

Guilt.

Technically, it was his fault Osamu was in this position. The least he could do was apologize or help him out or something.

"Do you, uh. I can take this from you," Atsumu grabbed the soiled paper bag by a dry corner and dropped it into the plastic bag.

"Thanks."

The flight attendant came back with a change of clothes and a bundle of napkins. Atsumu accepted the package gratefully, setting the clothes on his lap as he began wiping down his twin as best as possible.

"I could do that," Osamu stated plainly, making no attempt to take over the job.

"It's the least I could do."

After throwing the last napkin into the bag, Atsumu handed Osamu the bundle of clothes and the bag,

"Go change in the bathroom, put your dirty clothes in here, we'll just throw them away."

"Alone?" Osamu cringed at the thought of walking down the alley with so many eyes on him.

He was bound to get dirty looks, given the scent he infected the small area with.

"I'll come with."

Atsumu followed Osamu down the hall, thanking every higher power imaginable when the small green 'OPEN!' sign was on the bathroom handle.

"I'll wait here for you," Atsumu stood next to the door as Osamu disappeared inside.

It took a couple minutes for Osamu to reappear- reasonable considering the size of the bathroom.

Once he did come out, the two walked quickly back to their seats.

"Do you want some water or something?" Atsumu asked, sealing the bag without tying it.

"I just wanna sleep," Osamu leaned his head back, failing to find comfort on the cheap seat.

Atsumu pulled of his sweatshirt, folding it into a square before placing it on his lap. Lifting up the arm rest between them, he patted the makeshift pillow.

Wordlessly agreeing, Osamu lay down.

Maybe his brother wasn't that bad after all.

[haikyuu-sickfics]

unfinished daimika that i started months ago and gave up on

"And... open!" Suguru removed his hands from Mika's eyes, arching them through the air as excitment oozed from his tone and infecting the atmosphere.

Mika's smile drooped as she took in the sight in front of her.

"It's... an old car?" She questioned, examining the rather old and inexpensive looking vehicle her boyfriend had hyped up so heavily.

It certainly wasn't what she was expecting when Suguru was flaunting his amaing 1st anniversary gift.

"No this isn't the full surprise, this is just our carrier," he opened the driver door and pulled out a heavily used map.

Wrinkles decorated every road, blurring the words into an illegible mess.  Water stains bled through the ink on various spots of the paper, making the map rather ineffectual.

"You still have that old thing?" Mika gaped as the memory of the map reached her along with her smile from earlier.

It was from last year- their first real date.  Suguru had picked up a random brochure out of boredom while waiting for his partner to finish browsing a store.  Certain places piqued his attention and he took note of destinations he wished to visit with Mika.

He shared his findings with her later that day.   They stayed up far into the next day, planning a day neither of them had expected to come.  A day of love and bliss, mindless exploration and physical connection.

"Your chariot awaits, fair maiden," Suguro opened the passenger door with a flourish, inviting her to take a seat on the rather beat up chair.

"You couldn't get a fairer chariot for your fairest maiden?" She teased, lowering herself onto the noisy seat.

The joke had some genuinity seeded into it.  Cigarrette smoke tainted the fabric seats, artificial air freshener proving fruitless against its pungent oder.  Questionable stains decorated the upholstery, which was about as ripped up as a cats bed.

Suguru sighed as he sank into his own seat and shut his door, "it's my uncles.  I couldn't get any other one.  It's stick shift too so the ride might be a little bumpy."

Mika frowned, "but you have driven it before, right?"

"Weeeeeell, no.  But I watched videos and my uncle has driven me to countless places, so it should be fine," Suguru assured, checking to see if the gear shift was in neutral before pressing the clutch to the floor with his left foot and turning the ignition.

The car roared to life, the romantic CD in it's player humming the beginning of a sweat melody.  Mika quickly began work on cranking down her window in an attempt to escape the cars awful perfume.

Suguru struggled to shift the car into first gear, the stick disobediantly sliding every wrong way.  Once it was finally in place, he sat back and smiled at his work, then turned to smile at an uncertain Mika.

"Can't we just take the train?" She inquired, debating the pros and cons of jumping out of the car before it started to move.

"It's not the same- plus there's no line connecting some of the places," Suguro explained, taking his right foor off the brake and causing the vehicle to inch forward.

Simultaniously, he released the clutch and pressed down on the accelorator, jerking the car forward in a lethal manner.

"Shit, sorry, one second," Suguru leaned off of the accelorator a bit, waiting for the car to slowly pick up speed before changing gears and pulling onto the quiet road.

The car's trajectory was very unpredictable.  Suguru did not know when to change gears to accomodate speed limits, he didn't even know what gear he was in half the time.  This caused the car to move in jerky motions, tossing its passengers around like a salad.

"We... seriously... couldn't... take... a... train?" Mika asked, her sentence chopped up by sudden stops and starts.

Suguru grimaced before finally settling on a gear and cruising down the road at a slowler than cared for rate.  Strategically ignoring Mika's question, he asked for directions.

Mika took one took down at the winding map and immediately looked back up and out the window.  Nausea dwindled at the back her her mind and in the pit of her stomach, not strong enough to be a problem, but present enough to make it's existance known.

"Suguru, pull over," she calmly ordered, her left hand white knuckling the door.

"What, why?" Suguru's head swiveled to his left, his concerned eyes scanning Mika's appearance for any abnormalities.

"Suguru, now, please."

Though confused, Suguru complied.

Before the vehicle had a chance to come to a complete stop, Mika stepped out of the car and into the cool breeze in the outside world.  They hadn't made it far from their original starting point, but they had driven long enough for the urban horizon to blend into a rural flatland.  The sweet smell of agriculture danced in the air, it's fresh scent nullifying Mika's faint nausea.

"Are you okay?" Suguru questioned, slamming the car door before fast walking over to Mika.

She breathed deeply before answering, her noise pointed up towards the sky as her eyelids rested over her pupils.

"Yea, I'm fine now, say, why don't we just stay here?"

"Really?  It's not really what I had in mind," Suguru allowed his sentence to trail off, skeptically eyeing the terrain, "but... I guess the flat grass would be nice for a blanket, and this road isn't that busy."

While Suguru was debating himself outloud, Mika took it upon herself to grab the picnic blanket from the back seat of the car.

"Are you gonna help me set this or just stand there?"

"Oh, let me get that."

Suguru grabbed the opposite end of the blanket, using the wind to unfurl and flatten it against the ground.

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Akaashi sickfic where he’s rlly nauseous and there’s a lot of build up. He’s trying to keep it down as long as possibly but eventually loses its

> Maybe Akashi and Bokuto are at an amusement park and Keiji throws up there? You can choose why he does.

Glowing yellow reflected off the various metal surfaces at the amusement park, their bright shine blinding those without adequate eye protection. Keiji and Koutarou both fell into the unfortunate group with melting eyes, the former squinting while the latter looked ahead without twinge.

"What should we ride first?" Koutarou wondered outloud, his eyes shimmering with glee.

Keiji thought to himself for a moment, deciding which ride would be the best on his nervous stomach. A feeling akin to anxiety nestled deep into Keiji's core, it's root remained unknown. There were no triggers present, the crowd was light and and calm, the high tempo music providing the perfect upbeat atmosphere. Additonally, Keiji was not one to be afraid of roller coasters.

So why did his stomach flip every time he thought of riding one?

"Maybe the carousel," Keiji offered quietly, subconciously gravitating closer to Koutarou.

"Sounds good to me!" Koutarou grabbed Keiji's wrist and practically dragged him closer to their day of immature fun.

---

--

-

A cold breeze fluttered the area as the sun set over the horizon, gentle pink and orange hues blanketing the atmosphere of the park. Abandonded litter skittered the asphalt, the walkways significantly less crowded as guardians carried their sleeping kids out of the park. Keiji couldn't help but feel envious for those kids, their arms stretched lazily towards the grounds as they struggled to keep their eyes open.

Truth be told, Keiji felt drained. The awful feeling in his stomach had remained promiment, if not more so after a small greasy lunch. But he was almost done. He had made it through the day and Koutarou seemed to still be in high cheers.

"Akaashi!" Koutarou dragged out the 'a' in Keiji's surname, "can we please ride the ferris wheel?"

Keiji frowned, his right hand instinctively traveling towards his stomach.

"You said the last ride would be the last one. I'm tired and ready to go home."

"I only said that cause I wanted to get you to ride it! Plus," his voice got softer, "I really want to see the sunset from that high with you."

Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, Keiji turned towards the direction of the attraction. Koutarou's excitement was contagious, an aura of happiness radiated off his body as though he was the sun. Keiji liked being around him for this reason. Fueling the happiness was one of the most rewarding activities in the world-- and Keiji would do anything for the familiar splash of yellow to infect his grey world.

"Let's go," Keiji conceded softly, walking towards the queue enterance.

Koutarou smiled widely to himself before reclaiming his spot at Keiji's side. The latter bit back a frown. Anxiety gnawed away at their midsection, with more strength and warning than normal. Going on this last ride was a bad idea. But who could say no to the charming team captain?

Well, a lot of people- predominantly Keiji- but something about being away from their responsibilities made him want to shrug off his sensible side for a day. Take a walk on the wild side, so to speak.

Or maybe Koutarou's sheer volume of dumbass-ery was finally rubbing off on him.

No matter the cause, here the two sat. Across each other in a plastic car, still warm from the previous passengers, slowly rising into the daunting evening.

The movement, though far slower than the previous attractions, affected Keiji in an overpowering way. Perhaps it wasn't the movement at all. Maybe his luck had simply run out, leaving him white knuckling the edge of his seat and practically glaring ahead.

"Are you mad that I made you come on to this last ride?" Koutarou asked, guilt seeping into his tone.

Keiji shook his head.

"I don't..." Should Keiji be honest with his upperclassmen? Lying wouldn't get him far in this situation... But maybe he could will out for a few more minutes.

His stomach turned

Scratch that. There was no willing this out, "I haven't really been feeling that good today."

"Really? Why didn't you tell me? I mean- you did look kinda constipated all day but you usually have that stoic expression so I didn't think much of it. No offense. Well I just said that you look constipated all the time there's not really a way to not take offense to that but I didn't mean it in a bad way, you pull it off. Well that sounded weird, but I meant that in a totally normal way, in a 'you always look good' way not a 'I like it when you look constipated way'; because that would be weird wouldn't it? Or maybe I'm just overthinking it. Sometimes I surprise myself with how much I think. It's like. Woah. I've been holding this in my brain without even realizing it and boom it's all coming out at once. Did you know that competive art used to be in the olympics? What did they do? Isn't art relative based off perception? How could they judge what someone elses mind created? That's why I like volleyball. It's set in stone. I'm gonna be in the olympics, you know that? I dunno when but it will happen. And everyone will look on their screens and see how awesome I am and you'll be in the stands because you don't want to continue your carreer for SOME reason. But that's besides the point. Hey, are you listening?"

Keiji had his eyes closed. The nausea was becoming overwhelming. There was too much happening at once.

The smell of food, perfume and trash.

The jerking movement of the cart.

The incessant rambling of the person seated across from him.

Everything surrounding Keiji took on microscopic form and roiled ruthelessly inside his gut. His shoulders occasionally lurched with queasy hiccups- threatening to send everything overboard.

Why now?

Of all places why did Keiji's stomach chose to revolt at the very top of a ferris wheel, the setting sun casting a blindingly painful glare into his eyes.

Did he have a migraine? Maybe. He couldn't tell at this point. Keiji couldn't keep into account everything going wrong in his body at this point. The only thing he was concerned about was finding a way to leave this ride with as little mess as possible.

"Do you have a bag, Bokuto-san."

"A bug?"

"A bag."

"A rag?"

"A. Bag."

"A hag?"

Keiji muttered curses under his breath at the futility of trying to properly communicate with Koutarou.

"This is time sensitive," he took a deep breath, swallowing a bubble of air traveling up his throat, "I don't believe I'm going to make it off this ride without being sick. So I ask you once more. Do you have a B-A-G."

Koutarou's eyes widened as he began patting his shorts in search of a valid recepticle. There was a fish net (who knows why) but that wouldn't work for obvious reasons. The only other thing which came to mind to be of use was the suveneer sinsola hat he had purchased earlier in the day to protect his neck.

Hastily, he pulled the hat off his head- having a bit of struggle with the strings and his ears, but handing it to Keiji top-down in record time.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Keji squinted his eyes at Koutarou.

"It's that or your lap."

"I'm not going to-"

Get sick in a hat- is what he was planning on saying. But the first gag took over his body before he had a chance to vocalize the rest of his sentence.

"Not going to... what?" Koutarou smirked, finding humor in the situation.

Keiji hiccuped over the hat, averting his eyes from Koutarou and clenching his jaw in embarrassment and annoyance.

Just as their cart jerked to a top at the peak of the ride, Keiji's stomach squeezed. It was a sensation stronger than the tugs he had felt throughout the day. This time, a hot sense of urgency burned the back of his mouth and gripped his esophogus.

Coughing, his body instinctually tried to dislodge the psycological ball in his throat. In response, his stomach contents finally pushed it's way up and out of his mouth in one large wave.

A strange sense of relief came with the awful act- as if the tension which had been slowly building up finally broke. He closed his eyes and allowed the conflicting feeling to overcome him.

Spitting residue acidic spit from his mouth, Keiji leaned back against the seat rest. Drying tears cooled around his eyes, which felt achingly tired. His thighs felt warm where he allowed hat to rest, lacking the energy to lift it fully up.

He barely registered the warm body sitting next to him, let alone the hand gently squeezing his shoulder.

"You okay now?" Koutarou asked gently, his breathy voice warming Keiji's ear.

"Mn-mn," Keiji slowly shook his head no, his eyes remaining shut and face tilted toward the sky.

"And you call ME reckless and stupid, how the turn tables twisted. Why didn't you say anything? Or like, I dunno, stayed home? I would've understood... Maybe."

"Please just be quiet," Keiji mumbled, "and keep rubbing my shoulder... It feels nice."

"I'll rub it until we get you in bed," Koutarou assured, adding his right hand to Keiji's right shoulder.

"Mm, thanks."

Keiji paused.

"And sorry about the hat."

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Hey... so I really should not be asking for asks considering my current workload... but if anyone has Bungou Stray Dogs / Attack on Titan requests then um @dvixiecups  Also I have a bokuaka ask that’s 99% done but I can’t seem to be able to write the rest, but that’s coming soon

And also, it’s been a while since I’ve looked for new fics and there’s so many new authors??  Shout out to you guys, carrying this community right now.

[haikyuu-sickfics]

I accidentally deleted all the original asks but I got them copied

Also; going on hiatus

-

hello, may i request a sick kita and the whole team goes to take care of him because no one's home with him? can i request a sick kita fic and the whole team visites him? Hi, can I request a sick Kita fix and the team goes to visit him at his house?

Shinsuke's absence wasn't immediately noticed during morning practice.  Though, what was noticed, was the slight off-ness of the teams dynamic. No one could properly place their finger on the odd change in atmosphere, how everyone was just ever-so-slightly more restrained than usual.  No one felt the usual omnipresent pressure urging them to do play to their limit, nor did they even notice that they weren't playing their usual. Aran puzzled over this mysterious feeling for well over half of practice, flubbing easy recieves and stumbling on flat ground as his mind struggled to apply an explanation to the ball in his chest. He took one more count of the team, thinking of their number and looking for their face. 2... 3... 4... 5... Wait. "Are we missing someone?" Aran wondered outloud, already knowing the answer. "Kita-kun is out today, he sent a text saying he's come down with something," one of the coaches confirmed, not looking up from his notepad. Once the absence was announced, everyone felt it's full force.  Various members of the team began to slack off, distracted by concern for their captain.  The coaches, who noticed the sudden drop in performance, decided it best to call practice off a bit early. Most of the team walked off to change into their school clothes, however a small handful remained to discuss the elephant in the room- or rather, the elephant missing from the room. "It feels weird without Kita-san here," Osamu commented, his thought drifting off into the dense atmosphere. "D'ya think he's alright?" Aran added, eyebrows furrowed with concern. "I dunno... isn't Ba-chan gone this week?  Who's there with him?"  Michinari deduced out loud, nibbling on his inner cheek. "Shouldn't we get him something?  Like a get-well-soon card at the very least?  Remember when Atsumu got sick and he gave him that bag," Rintarou brought up, shoulders raised to warm his neck. "Yea!  We should make him a basket!  We can put like food and drinks and toys and then all deliver it in person!" Atsumu chimed, enthusiasm pouring out of him. "Wouldn't that put us in danger of contagion?" Ren- the only one not completely blinded by Shinsuke's aura- countered. Michinari shrugged his shoulders before countering, "we can wear masks.  Plus I'm sure he's more concerned of contagion than we are- he'll have something figured out." "So we'll meet up at the usual place after the bell?" Rintarou asked. Various guestures of approval responded to him before the group dispersed. -- It had been 5 minutes since Ren had walked up to their meeting place, greeting Aran, Rintarou and the Miya's with a small wave.  Michinari had yet to show up, leaving the small gathering with arms crossed to ward off the cold. "Can't we just go without him?" Atsumu whined, impatience tearing at his every muscle. "If you want to be on his bad side, be my guest," Aran countered, arms raised in surrender, "but don't come crawling to me when yer ankles get bit." Atsumu scowled- though much exageration was put into his words, Aran did have a small point.  No one in their right mind sought to be on Michinari's bad side.  They wouldn't get physically hurt, but the cold shoulder from someone as cheerful as the libero was enough to debilitate anyone. "I'm here!  I went to the konbini to get stuff!" Aforementioned libero shouted, jogging up to the group with plastic bags hanging off his left arm while his right was raised with greeting. "S'bout time, c'mon let's go," Ren responded, leading the group towards the Kita household. -- "Knock knock, open up!" Michinari shouted through the door, "we brought soup and stuff!" "It's unlocked," A voice, certainly not Shinsuke's, croaked from inside. "Who's with him?" Rintarou wondered outloud, voicing the thoughts of everyone in the group. "Let's find out," Michinari pushed open the door. "Kita-san!  We're here!" Atsumu shouted, his hands cupped around his mouth. "Shhh!  He prob'ly has a headache," Osamu reprimanded, chopping his brother lightly on the shoulder. "He's over here, guys," Aran observed, calling

the rest of the team over. Curled up on the couch in a cacoon of blankets sat none other than their captain.  A cold compress sat on the floor, long since abandoned.  Ghastly pallor accentuated the black and red rimmed eyes resting above flushed cheeks.  Dried tears and sweat decorated his discontent face. Michinari was the only one who had the courage to approach the blanket blob, wrapping his arms around the lump before sitting next to it. "Yew're so hot!  How can you be comfortable with all these blankets on?" "Everythings cold and I don't know why." Removing his left arm from the hug, Michinari brought his hand up to check for fever.  Brushing aside the damp fringe, the skin on Shinsuke's forehead was radiating heat.  Frowning, Michinari checked his cheeks, brushing away the tear tracks gently with his thumbs. "We need to take some of these blankets off, you have a really bad fever," Michinari asserted, his voice shockingly serious. "But... what if I become cold again?" Shinsuke pouted. Standing in the corner, the group was aghast by how out of character the third years were acting.  No one had expected Shinsuke to be so... well, sick.  Their captains state was discouraging, the sight left their hearts aching with the want to help. "Kita-san," Rintarou began, taking a tentative step forward, "we'll be here to make sure you don't get cold.  You'll feel better sooner if you take off some of the blankets." Unease swirled in his stomach.  His tongue felt heavy, almost as though it was choking him.  It did not feel right for Rintarou to be talking to his composed captain in such a way.  Shinsuke was supposed to be the one with a clear mind and unclouded judgement, he should know the logistics of fevers. Instead he just frowned, not moving as Michinari peeled the blankets away. "It's cold again," he practically cried as fresh air came into contact with his skin. "Is this better?" asked Michinari as he pulled Shinsuke into his chest.  The two were roughly the same size, but the latter's huddled figure allowed the two to fit together like a puzzle piece. "Are they... y'know?" Rintarou flopped his wrist. "Nope, Akagi's like this with everyone," Aran responded, picking up the discared konbini bag, "I'll heat up the soup in the kitchen, you guys find something to do." Mumbling something about rice, Osamu followed Aran out the door.  Ren walked over to the couch and scooped the wet cold compress off the floor, setting it on the table before addressing his underclassmen. "Can one of ya's replace this?" Rintarou jumped onto the oppurtunity to be of use, picking up the dripping material between his thumb and forefinger.  A momentary grimace flashed on his face as the unpleastant texture shocked him, but he was able to quickly steel himself and take the object away.  While he was occupied, Ren busied himself with folding up the blankets, placing them neatly in a stack on the floor adjacent to the couch. At this time, Rintarou returned with a freshly dampened rag, carefully folding before gingerly swiping back Shinsuke's hair and lining the fabric up where scalp met forehead.  Initially, the ill captain winced from the cool touch before relaxing into it as Rintarou continued smoothing his hair back.  The repeated motion coupled with the middle blockers careful application of pressure provided for an incredibly soothing feeling. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of Michinari's smirk did he revoke his hand, a light flush spreading across his features. "Oh c'mon, why'd you stop?" Michinari whisper-spoke upon seeing Shinsuke's face fall. "You, he.  The, and, cold warm hand," Rintarou responded. "Yea okay, well, if ye're just gonna stand there like Hachishaku-sama why don't you have a seat behind me and fill the gap between me n' the armrest," Michinari smiled at his own light hearted taunt while Atsumu cackled - the latter earning a cocked eyebrow for his hypocrasy, "'M backs killin' me and I'd love something to lean against right about now." "Oh, sure yea.  Yea okay," Rintarou sat on the couch normally, his

right shoulder towards his upperclassmen. "Yea, this isn't gonna work, I'll just slide back," Michinari nudged Rintarou away before repositioning himself. At this moment Aran and Osamu reappeared with soup and rice cupped respectively in their dominant hands.  Michinari looked down onto Shinsuke to prepare him for food only to discover the captain had already fallen asleep. "We'll just set these here until he wakes up.  They needed to cool down anyway," Aran informed, gently grabbing the bowl from Osamu and placing it next the the soup on the coffee table. "What now?" Atsumu wondered. "Well we got a couch, blankets, T.V and a remote.  All in favor of a movie- say 'I'" Michinari suggested, raising his left hand up. "I" everyone responded in near unison.

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Thinking about Kita completely breaking down when he’s sick/hurt because he’s so used to everything in his body being predictable and under his control

[haikyuu-sickfics]

nauseous suga during practice (or a game) and he throws up a little on the court before he’s taken to the bathroom. daichi takes care of him.

This has more than one contradiction s and the writing is poor overall, but this is all my brain is capable of atm

"Your back is really warm, Suga-san," Shoyou gaped after a quick pre-game side hug.

"It's okay, you can say that I'm hot" Koushi teased, trying to push aside the concern in the first years eyes.

"You know that's not what I meant! Are you okay?" He exclaimed, frowning.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. The sun's just really shining today," the setter shrugged off, nonchalantly drifting away before the conversation had a chance to shift into a full on interrogation.

With his back turned to the team, Koushi allowed his smile to change into a tightly sealed line. The last thing he needed was for the team to catch onto his secret. If it could even be considered a secret, a more accurate definition would be 'withholding key elements of the truth' and that technically isn't lying.

Besides, it's not like ignoring the dull cramping in his stomach would put him into a poor predicament. Nope, nothing could go wrong today. It was just a normal practice match with normal weather and the normal coaches with the normal starting line up.

Well almost normal starting lineup. Koushi was the setter today.

Tobio happen to be missing out on this game due to an illness, one he hid until it showed itself at Koushi's feet during practice a few days ago.

But that small side story had absolutely nothing to do with the dizziness threatening to send Koushi to the ground, nor did it have anything to do with the dull headache gnawing behind his eyes.

Nope. Nothing. Not a thing.

Because if anything, Koushi does not get

"...sick," Sawamura's voice stole Koushi from his thoughts.

"Huh? What was that?" He questioned, shaking the confusion from his head.

"I said, 'do you feel alright, you look sick,'" the captains forehead creased with concern, removing his hand from Koushi's shoulder.

Wait, when did he put his hand on his shoulder? How long was it there? How long had Sawamura been standing there? Did he hear what Shoyou said? And why was his hand getting bigger?

Koushi ducked out of the way of Sawamura's hand, only realizing two seconds after the fact that the latter was hoping the check the temperature of the former.

"You worry too much, I've got everything under control- when have I ever not?" Koushi steadied himself, the sudden dodge scrambling his sense of balence.

"There was that one time at the restaurant, oh and the time on the roller coaster and remember when-"

"That was a rhetorical question."

"My point stands, Suga, maybe you should bench this one," he brought his hand back up to his friends shoulder.

Koushi, shrugging off the hand, simply shook his head. His eyes were slanted in a determination Sawamura had only seen twice before. Air stopped moving, it's particles expanding in his lungs as Koushi's eyes burned holes into his own. Never had Sawamura been able to protest The Stare, and now was no exception. Though, it's usual intense power did dwindle a bit due to the feverish glaze added upon the darkness. Sawamura was only able to stand there while Koushi walked away in response to the coaches shout.

After a quick pregame chat, the various members of both teams walked onto court. Sawamura held the ball in his hand, the majority of his attention stolen by the slightly slumped setter infront of him. Setting aside his concern for the time being, he served.

The ball was easily recieved, passed to their opponents setter and spiked into Yuu's waiting arms.

"Suga-san!" the libero shouted to inform the setter who the ball was heading towards.

Koushi nodded and stepped up to the ball, confident enough to cause Sawamura to second guess his concern. Just as the ball came into contact with Koushi's sweaty palms, the player collapsed to the floor.

Shouts of concern filled the gymnasium as the ball bounced away. Koushi struggled to lift himself up with his arms, his lungs inflating and deflating quickly. A loud burp forced it's way out, forcing the setter's head forward with a gag and a small mouthful of sick.

"Shit! Suga I knew you were sick!" Sawamura cursed, sliding up to support his friend.

"Now's not-" he paused to gag, "the best time to say 'told ya so.'"

Ignoring the response, Sawamura began pulling Koushi- who was very reluctant to leave the floor- to his feet.

"C'mon let's get you outside."

Koushi shook his head, his head trained to the floor in expectance of illness. Saliva was dripping into his mouth, informing him of his impending doom.

Sighing, used to the stubberness of his friend, Sawamura firmly led Koushi away. The rooms other occupants were shocked at his calmess, no one else would have the courage to lead a quite visibly ill person anywhere. But, Sawamura was not taking a risk. He had experienced sick Koushi enough times to know how long it takes for him to actually throw up. They had adequate time to get outside, maybe even enough to find a trash bin or toilet.

The latter idea was thrown out of the window as Koushi pulled himself away outside of the gym, his knees and hands braced against the damp grass. Heat radiated from his body, rivaling the afternoon sun. Soft gags forced their way out, bringing nothing but air and pain.

"You sure you don't want to go anywhere else?" Sawamura asked, glancing around the area.

Koushi only gripped the grass harder, blades tearing out of the ground to clump in his hands. One more gag brought up a small wave of sick, gravity pulling it into a small puddle between his hands. Closing his eyes, Koushi took a couple deep breaths- calming himself from the episode.

After a minute or so, he pulled himself to his feet, swaying slightly as vertigo crashed upon him.

"Okay, let's," he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "let's go back to the game."

Sawamura cocked his eyebrow, crossing his arms in disapproval.

"The only place you're going is home."

"But... who will be the setter?" Koushi's tone sounded heartbreaking, his fever causing his emotions to become increasingly sensitive.

"One of the second years, now do you think you're done throwing up?"

Koushi hesitantly shook his head no, the expected answer but discouraging nonetheless.

"Okay then, let's get you somewhere else then," the captain paused, at a lost for what to do thanks to the unfamiliar surroundings.

Neither of their parents had a loose enough schedule to pick him up, even if they did the school holding the practice match was far too out of the way. The only way they could leave was wait for the game to end and everyone take the bus. That was a no-go, in his condition, Koushi should be inside getting rest- not under the scorching sun.

They had to call the game off, not that is was a huge loss anyways. The match would not have been proper training due to the loss of three players, and they shouldn't expose the school to whatever illness may be going around the team.

"I'm gonna go talk to the coach, stay here really quick."

And with that, the third worst day for the Karasuno Volleyball Team came to it's beginning.