Silver and Gold

A blog with emetophilia stories about original characters by your friend Kara

[emetoandotherthings]

Emeto Questions 🤢

Do they:

1. Cough or burp or hiccup when throwing up?

2. Make the biggest mess in the world or make it to the toilet in time?

3. Little and often or one huge gush and everything’s done?

4. Like belly rubs when having an upset tummy or don’t like being touched at all?

5. Retch loudly or quietly?

6. Sticks their fingers down their throat to get everything up or leave it to happen naturally?

7. Prefer the toilet or a bucket?

8. Feel comfortable to vomit in front of their S/O or like to be alone?

9. Slow nauseous build up or sudden vomiting?

10. Feel better straight away or take a long time to recover?

[mattieandnina]

cast page here

[mattieandnina]

me writing gagging sounds in sickfics, ft. a surprise appearance by violent whump

[mattieandnina]

Yooo so id thought I'd share a quick thing that happened to me !! So I already don't do well in cars but my husband and I were on a road trip for summer vacation and the ac in our car is shot. Not to mention, i ate pretty heavily before we left. So picture this-- a tiny 5'0 185lbs girl hunched over on the side of the road vomiting profusely every hour because of the heat. (〃＾▽＾〃)

that’s hella cute! I hope you’re ok and got some fun out of it <3

[mattieandnina]

Me feeling nauseous: haha what a shame it would be if I vomited, oh no, haha, what a predicament,

[mattieandnina]

I’m gonna get high for the first time in like 3 years on tuesday and I’m for sure gonna puke and like kinda excited but also kinda anxious as fuck

[sickandvomiting]

Hoo boy, @mattieandnina and I are writing one humdinger of a fic right now. We’re at almost 5,000 words and aren’t even halfway through and I’m SO PUMPED for y’all to read it!!!! 

[mattieandnina]

almost 7000 at this point lmfao 

[mattieandnina]

Avi and Alana pt 2

A collab with @sickandvomiting continuing a romance with her Avi and my Alana! Moving a bit forward in time to an early date. 

Avi was practically vibrating with excitement as they got ready for the evening. They applied makeup carefully and precisely, combed their hair perfectly into place, even buzzed a new floral design into their undercut. They donned a nice pair of skinny jeans, flowy floral shirt, and high heeled boots with chunky earrings and a glittery choker before jumping into their car to pick up Alana. They had been anticipating this night since they first met; she was finally going to see their band play.

When they arrived at Alana’s place, she stepped out, wearing a knee-length cream-colored shirt dress, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, lilac tights on her legs leading down to plain brown flats. Alana had curled her hair, so it fell in soft waves around her round blushing face. They greeted her warmly, saying “You look beautiful,” at which she blushed profusely and thanked them in a quiet voice. They chatted amicably for the duration of the drive, despite Avi’s slightly jerky driving and occasional road rage. The dingy interior of the old car clashed with the well kempt, done up couple, their perfumes mixing with the smell of old cigarette smoke and worn leather.

The two pulled into the nearest parking lot by the bar they were going to, laughing at a stupid joke on the podcast Avi listened to regularly. They composed themself and swung their long legs out of the car, grabbing their purse and rounding to the passenger side. They opened the door for Alana and helped her out of the car, tugging excitedly at her hand as they led her to the entrance of the bar.

Before they even opened the door, the smell of smoke and spirits wafted out into the street. O’Malley’s was a little dive known for its live music and home brewed beer. The little pub felt like something right out of an old film; the dim hanging lights over the cast strange shadows of the patrons hunched over the bar, tending to their drinks or talking to their neighbors. Many had cigars or cigarettes hanging out of their mouths and puffed slowly on them, taking long drags before blowing the smoke out behind them. The room was hazy and dark, and people from every walk of life were milling about. A small figure was hunched over a dilapidated upright piano on the small stage at the far end of the room, playing a slow, sad melody and mumbling to himself, while a gentlemen in a nice suit ordered a fine whiskey for himself and a friend, laughing boisterously. Avi peered around through the haze, trying to find the rest of their band, before spotting them sitting at the far end of the bar closest to the stage.

*

Alana had to tell herself to be normal as Avi led her into O’Malley’s. She somehow hadn’t expected Avi’s band to be playing in a venue where you could smoke inside. Maybe it was inexperience - the bars she generally went to (and she rarely went to bars at all) were more like cocktail bars, and she suspected this qualified as a dive. It was the kind of place she had only really seen in movies, even though in retrospect that was kind of a stupid assumption to make. The haze of secondhand smoke and stale beer hit her like a storm front, and Alana tried not to reel backwards away from the door as Avi opened it. Without thinking about it, Alana reached out and clutched at Avi’s arm, clinging to them like a schoolgirl, embarrassed of her immediate impulse to hide behind them. Avi patted her hand reassuringly and gave her a quick smile before leading her through the entrance.

One of the bar employees walked over to them as the two stepped through the door, waving a hand to get Avi’s attention.

“Five minutes ‘til you’re on,” he said. “We almost thought you weren’t coming.”

“Me? Not coming? Paul, I’m disappointed.” They tsked playfully, and Paul left them as Avi called out to their bandmates at the bar.

“They’re here!” cried a slight man with a paperboy cap.

“Finally,” quipped another with long hair and a bright colored Hawaiian shirt.

“Life of the party,” said the largest of the group, words muffled by the ponytail holder between his lips. He worked to gather his long dreads behind his head and tied them back with it.

“Who’s this?” a short, puffy haired girl asked, her visible eye scanning Alana up and down curiously. The other was obscured by a black eyepatch, which may have looked intimidating on anyone not wearing a frilly floral summer dress.

“This is the surprise I was telling y’all about! Alana, meet the group. Group, meet my girlfriend, Alana.” Avi beamed as they spoke, gently ushering Alana toward their friends for introductions.

“Hi, um. I’m Alana Zhang?” She said, holding out her hand vaguely and feeling vastly overwhelmed. Everyone here was so...unexpected. She’d expected everyone to be cooler than her - Avi was, so why wouldn’t the rest of their band be? - but it was a mix. On the one hand, there was the pretty girl in a floral dress, chunky boots, and an eyepatch (Alana wondered if it was an affectation or if it was real) and the tall long-haired guy who looked like a punk on a cruise vacation. On the other hand, there were the two casual looking men, one of whom was tying his dreads back and the other, in his slightly preppy clothes, looking uncomfortably like a student in the classes Alana TA’d for.. She told herself to relax, taking in a deep breath and immediately regretting it as the scent of stale cigarettes invaded her lungs.

“Nice to finally meet you!” the man with the cap said, shaking her outstretched hand. “I’m Senan, and this is Adam, Morgan, and Elizabeth.”

“What do you mean, finally?” Elizabeth asked. “I only just found out about this.” Morgan and Adam nodded in agreement, and Senan held his hands up when all three started talking at once.

“I wanted to make it a surprise,” Avi said, laughing. “She’s amazing and I’m sure y’all will love her.” They smiled broadly and held out a hand for her to take.

Alana slipped her free hand into Avi’s gratefully, offering her other hand to the other three in turn. She tried to arrange her face into an expression of casual friendliness, and probably at least partly succeeded - she was pretty good at looking blandly pleasant instead of showing that she was freaking out. Except “blandly pleasant” wasn’t what she wanted to show Avi’s band - she had wanted to give them a good impression, not an impression of...kind of nothing.

“It’s nice to meet you all too. Um. I should go, maybe? Let Avi, um - I’ll try and get close to the stage when you come on?” Alana couldn’t stop herself from making a face at her own awkwardness.

“You’ve got great timing,” Morgan said, releasing her hand from his firm handshake. “Paul is calling us up.” He cocked his head at the rest of the band, and they all knocked back the rest of their drinks and rapped the empty glasses twice on the counter before getting up and going over to the stage to set up. Avi stepped in front of Alana and pointed to where they would stand on stage.

“I’ll be right there. Feel free to come right up to the stage if you want, and if you need anything between songs just let me know and I’ll have Paul get it.” Alana nodded in response, and Avi bent down and kissed the top of her head gently. “Wish us luck!” they called back over their shoulder as they crossed the smoky room in five long strides and took their place by their synthesizer keyboard, which Senan had already set up for them.

Alana had meant to be more supportive somehow - she’d had a vision of herself throwing flowers for Avi or giving them a last minute pep talk or something, but that was also kind of silly. Avi had been performing for years, they were clearly good at this. At the most, she’d be a face in the crowd for them, but she was also excited to hear them play. Shouldering through the crowded bar was awkward and felt bad, especially since no one around her could tell she was dating one of the band members - Alana felt terrible for sneaking her way up to the front of the stage, pushing real fans out of the way. She ended up next to the stage, after all, but sort of crushed into a corner, eyes focused firmly on Avi, their long fingers poised over their keyboard and ready to play.

As everyone finished up their tuning, Alana had felt increasingly out of place, sticking out in the crowd. People were pressed in around her, not really crushing her - she was too big to be crushed - but that was almost worse, the sensation of taking up so much space, like a boulder or something. And the smoke...she didn’t want to cough on anyone. By the time the drummer - Elizabeth - started tapping out a beat, Alana’s stomach was aching from stifling coughs. And then the music started in earnest, and Alana stopped thinking about breathing entirely.

Morgan cued the rest of the band in with a five, six, seven, eight and they started up with a moderate jazz piece. Avi’s fingers flew over the keys as they riffed and improvised, hands splayed out over the piano, reaching all kinds of odd chords. Morgan’s saxophone rung out clear and vibrant over the rest for a solo, and the gathering crowd clapped wildly when he finished, drowning out the beginning of Avi’s solo. Their face was drawn in concentration, but their eyes were fiery and focused as their hands danced across the piano, playing intricate runs and syncopated chords, even throwing a glissando in toward the end. When they finished, their searching eyes quickly found Alana. They beamed at her for a second, but their attention was quickly pulled back to the music to finish out the song.

Alana watched, starry-eyed, as the band played through their set. The first song faded seamlessly into a much slower, sadder, blues number. Avi opened with a bit of blues piano and after the intro Morgan joined them in a beautiful simple duet of piano and voice. The bar hushed as his baritone rang out over the piano, sad words fitting the somber melody. Morgan’s voice was rich and deep and one could hear the emotion welling up in the back of his throat, though it did nothing to the clarity of his tone. The rest of the band joined in after the chorus had finished. Senan played a melancholy guitar solo in the middle, and they finished out the piece on a quiet chord, Morgan’s vibrato the last sound audible before the audience erupted into applause and Avi’s eyes again found Alana’s.

Every time a song ended, or transitioned into another, Avi raised her eyes to Alana’s, and every time a chill ran down Alana’s spine. They were so...focused, concentrated, and in sync with the rest of their band, all of them improvising across each other in perfect harmony. When the set ended and the band took a bow, Alana clapped until her hands stung. She wasn’t even sure how long the band had been playing - she’d been caught up in the music, and in Avi’s movements, their voice, their intensity. She had liked them before. Now, watching them take a bow, sweeping their arm out dramatically, she thought she might be in love.

As the spell of the music faded and the band left the stage, Alana became aware of the crush of people all around her again, hot and suffocating, especially with the smoky air. Once she realized there wasn’t going to be an encore, she immediately tried to extricate herself from the crowd, swallowing a gag of either claustrophobia or smoke sensitivity. Maybe all of the above.

*

Stepping off the stage, Avi peered about the crowd, searching for Alana. They towered over the rest of the people in the bar, so it was easy to spot her weaving through the crowd to the exit. Confused, they started to elbow their way past people who clapped them on the back. Great shows and Well dones abounded, but Avi brushed them off politely, eyes only momentarily flicking away from Alana as they saw her lurch out of the throng of people.

Alana managed to “excuse me” and “I’m sorry” her way out of the main crowd, emerging with a deep breath that she immediately regretted. The smell of stale smoke and alcohol flooded into her lungs, and she covered her mouth, doubling over and backing up into a corner, trying to stifle the hacking cough rising up her throat. Her stomach was aching, churning now, with the smell and the effort of holding her breath. She had to be okay, make her way back to Avi, at least tell them how much she enjoyed their show- her train of thought derailed as someone lit up a cigarette nearby, and she had to hold her breath again. Avi appeared at her side almost out of nowhere, eyes filled with worry.

“You okay, sugar?” they asked, reaching a hesitant hand toward her shoulder and hovering there, unsure whether she was okay to be touched.

Alana nodded, letting out a sputtering cough and blushing. “S-sorry, I just needed - it was really cramped in there.” She covered her mouth, coughing furiously, and glanced up at Avi with watery eyes. “You were really good - really good. I loved the show, it was so -” She was interrupted by another fit of coughing, trying to suppress it even though that and the stale air were hurting her stomach.

Avi threw caution to the wind, placing their slender hand on her back and rubbing up and down her spine, trying to help the fit abate. When she finally caught her breath and looked up at them, eyes watering from the exertion, they smiled sympathetically at her.

“I’m glad you liked it,” they said, leaning back against the yellow smoke stained wall of the bar. After a pause, they added “You sure you’re good?”

Alana swallowed, trying to make sure that she actually was before she answered. Avi’s hand on her back helped a little, soothing her. She cleared her throat and took a more cautious breath before speaking again.

“I’m okay. N-not used to bars with, um, smoking inside. It just kind of...snuck up on me.” She said, trying to be diplomatic. What she wanted to say was that cigarette smoke made her feel ill even if it was outside and drifting away from her - it felt like being poisoned, and the concentrated smell in a crowded room turned her stomach immediately.  But Avi smoked, and she didn’t want to hurt their feelings.

“Um. I really did love it though. Your set, I mean. You’re so in sync with each other, you improvise so beautifully. I’ve only ever, you know, played sheet music, by myself - but it feels like you and your band are so close you can just - “

Alana breathed in a little bit too deeply again, and stifled a gag. “Sorry, I’m still - can we get some fresh air?”

“For sure,” Avi replied sweetly. Their hand found the small of her back and ushered her gently toward the alley door. “By the way, if you ever wanna try not playing alone, I’ve got some duet books,” they added with a wink.

“Maybe you could teach me how to improvise like that.” Alana said, gulping down the relatively fresh air in the alley. “Fresh” was stretching it, considering the two emerged next to a dumpster, but still...the tiny breeze in the alleyway was a godsend compared to the stifled, smoky club. Alana took another deep breath, trying to ignore the way her stomach turned over. It was fine, she was out of the bar, Avi was flirting with her, escorting her outside. Alana blushed, belatedly.“You’re sweet.” She said, feeling self-conscious. “And talented, and….I’d really, really, really like to play with you sometime.”

“We’ll do it, then,” they said, beaming. “I look forward to it.” They fished in their purse for something, pulling out a pack of Camel cigarettes at length.

Alana opened her mouth to say something before closing it awkwardly, sighing. It was fine, right? It was fine. She didn’t want Avi to feel guilty, and then Avi was lighting the cigarette and exhaling smoke away from Alana, specifically.

But the slight breeze blowing down the alley had other plans, and Alana was hit in the face with a draft of smoke.

She wrapped her arms around her waist, coughing violently, and then all of a sudden she inhaled wrong, and her coughs turned into gags.

“Whoa, whoa, sugar, you okay?” Avi placed their hand on her back once more, feeling the muscles tense under their long fingers as she hacked and gagged.

“No, I - kh- “ Alana dropped to a crouch, coughs still racking through her. She wanted to explain, apologize, but all she could do was struggle for breath. Finally she managed a ragged inward breath, which caught in her throat painfully. She leaned forward, gagging, and spat a mouthful of bile onto the pavement in front of her. “O-ooh, god- “ she managed to moan, before she was gagging again, expelling a rush of vomit, stumbling back against Avi’s legs.

“Oh my god!” Avi yelped as she collapsed against them, dropping their smoking cigarette. They wrapped their arms about her just long enough to get her stabilized, and felt her body heave against their chest before releasing her to spew another torrent of sick into the puddle at her feet. They rubbed her back as comfortingly as they could, apologizing profusely.  

Alana leaned back against Avi, panting, trying to swallow the vomit rising up her throat. Her cheeks were burning - she was horrified by herself, crimson with embarrassment, crouching and trying to make herself as small as possible while Avi stroked her back comfortingly.

“I di-didn’t mean to - oh, god, oh fuck, what a m-mess-” She stuttered, choking.

“Hey, hey you’re okay. It’s okay, this alley has seen worse, I guarantee it”. They chuckled nervously, for once unsure of themself and what to do. They gathered her hair back and and held it in a bunch behind her neck with one hand as they patted her back with the other. “I’m so sorry.”

Alana spluttered and coughed, bringing up another mouthful of vomit. “I-I’m the one that’s - mmh - that should be sorry…” She murmured, closing her eyes and feeling her stomach heave again. She leaned forward, trying to at least not pull her hair out of Avi’s hands, and expelled another wave of sick, which splattered to the pavement beneath her feet. She shifted backwards, grimacing and shivering.

“God, I’m so sorry, I’m not - not like this.” She resisted the urge to bury her face in Avi’s chest, not trusting her stomach yet.

They released her hair, rummaging around in their purse before producing a pack of tissues and handing her one.

“Think you’re done, babe?” they asked, grimacing as they glanced at the puddle of sick on the ground of the dingy alley. They brushed her hair behind her ear on the side closest to them. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t think…” Alana trailed off, raising her glasses to wipe the tears out of her eyes, before blowing her nose lightly and tossing the tissue on top of the mess she’d left. She shuddered and swallowed, finally leaning on Avi.

“I didn’t know it would, um. I’ve always had kind of a sensitive nose, but like I said, I haven’t been in a bar with that much smoke, and...it just got to me. I’m so sorry.” She bit her lip, trying not to breathe too deeply.

“You’re okay. Really, Alana.” They pulled back momentarily and tipped her face up to look her in the eyes. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Alana sighed, wiping her mouth and undoubtedly smudging her makeup. “There probably is.” She said with a shaky laugh. She really wanted to kiss Avi, but she had just thrown up and Avi still smelled like cigarette smoke.

“It was a really good show.” She murmured, leaning on Avi’s shoulder, giving them an embarrassed smile. “Please take me to another one. In a non-smoking bar.”

“For sure,” they said. Leaning down, they kissed the top of her head gently. “For sure.”

[mattieandnina]

This is gonna be so so long, but multiples of 3 for Alana and multiples of 5 for Fi, Kelly, and Megan!

Thanks <3 under a cut for length, and this is just gonna be the Alana answers - I’ll do the Fi/Kelly/Megan ones in a different post so it’s manageable!

Alana: 

Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory? Alana had kind of a weird childhood - her mother died in a car accident when she was 6, and her dad raised her more or less by himself. She’s always gotten along really well with her dad, who’s a first gen Chinese immigrant and sacrificed a lot to give her opportunities. She came out to her dad as trans in high school, and one of her most treasured memories is snooping through his room one day and finding a bunch of books about raising a transgender child - he never talked to her much about it in person but finding those books meant the world to her.  She lost her mom early enough that she doesn’t really remember it, just vague memories of someone and then a sense of loss. But in middle school, Alana went through a phase of being a bully towards other lgbtq kids out of fear of being discovered/outed as a trans lesbian, and she hates herself for it a lot.

What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate? She’s always been a nerd - honor roll student, enrolled in academic decathlon and other academic extracurriculars. She’s currently working on a doctorate degree in Library/Archive Sciences and wants to A) spend the rest of her life in academia and B) work specifically in archives doing reconstruction and preservation on historical documents. She’s always loved the actual school part of school, it’s the social part that she disliked as a kid. 

Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?  She likes smaller animals a lot, and owns two rats named Egg and Lily, who she dotes on. She’s scared of big dogs, not for any reason, they just kind of freak her out.

What is their favourite food? spicy black bean burgers and chickpea burgers. She’s a really not strict vegetarian (eats chicken and fish sometimes) but genuinely likes veggie burgers a lot more than their meat alternatives.

Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking? She’s ok at cooking - has a few good recipes that she uses to impress dates, but she’s also very lazy about cooking and doesn’t do it if she doesn’t have to. Most of her food is either microwave or cooking one meal at the beginning of the week and then eating leftovers. 

What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else? Reads a lot of contemporary literary fiction, mostly realistic or surrealism. Also likes history/biography. Barely watches tv - big fan of documentaries and true crime shows like I Survived - ones with no reenactments, she haaaates reenactments. Doesn’t play video games at all, aside from casual phone games. As far as music, she’s into folky indie lady music like Fiona Apple and etc - makes a conscious effort to only listen to trans/nb artists or at least women.

Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper? Alana is a very patient person most of the time, but also gets totally furious about misogyny and kind of hates herself for it. She’s ok with saying no, or refusing to let situations go further, but if she finds herself getting aggressive in any way she sees it as Bad, which is…super unhealthy. She’s protective of people but doesn’t feel comfortable being protective of herself.

What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress? Alana steals covers and curls up very hard on one side of the bed. She doesn’t snore, and prefers a hard mattress so she doesn’t sink into the middle. 

What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad? A lot of the time what bums Alana out is excessive empathy - she’s the kind of person to cry out of a combo of helpless anger and unhappiness when she reads a bad news story or has friends who are in a bad situation that she can’t help with. She’s empathetic to the point of not really thinking about herself much at all, and tends to also be super embarrassed of public displays of sadness. The one thing that really upsets her personally is feeling like people are devaluing her intelligence - she gets really hurt by non-constructive criticism.

Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out? She works out once a week or so, sort of lackadaisically, mostly to justify paying for a gym membership. She’s naturally pretty active - walks most places instead of driving when she can.

What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties? Boxer briefs - she’s working up the funds/courage to buy those cute ladylike underwear online for specifically trans women, but til then she sticks with utilitarian stuff. As far as bras, she wears those cute lacey bralettes all the time even if it’s really annoying to find them in her size.

What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing? She can write academic papers very quickly and accurately, she’s a great academic editor, copy editor, and researcher. Also good at classical piano - can kind of sight-read, has a good sense of tone and melody in general, ok singing voice but bad range. Hobbies include reading (obvs) and just learning stuff in general. She loves podcasts and online articles about just historical interesting shit.

Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging? 100% prefers email. Weird about texting and phone calls.

What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition? She’s pretty straightforward about her goals (which is get a phd and work in an archive, not super dramatic), and a big thing about her character is that she would sacrifice a lot of herself for other people, whether that’s justified or not.

How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves? Alana is intensely self conscious about herself - she sees herself as taking up too much space, ruining things and being clumsy all the time. In fact, she’s very kind and probably too forgiving and nice to people? She tries very hard to make herself small, when she should be ok taking up space.

Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend? She likes small parties - she and some of her friends have an ongoing game night - but only goes to big loud parties every once in a while. She likes hosting parties, but not big ones. If she’s dragged along by a friend (which she usually isn’t) she’s pretty visibly uncomfortable but tries not to bum anyone out.

Super detailed questions about your OCs

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything? 2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them? 3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory? 4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents? 5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults? 6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate? 7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood? 8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals? 9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals? 10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect? 11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies? 12. What is their favourite food? 13. What is their least favourite food? 14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal? 15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking? 16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it? 17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos? 18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else 19. What’s their least favourite genres? 20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes? 21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper? 22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back? 23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces? 24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress? 25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves? 26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions? 27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad? 28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared? 29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective? 30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out? 31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing? 32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like? 33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties? 34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body? 35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure? 36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing? 37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction? 38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had? 39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging? 40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert? 41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship? 42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition? 43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people? 44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most? 45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves? 46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves? 47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event? 48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend? 49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them? 50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

[moonbeammuses-a]

ALWAYS OPEN || ALWAYS ACCEPTING Specify Muse~

[mattieandnina]

Jen was supposed to meet Mikah for drinks and stay the night on Saturday night, and it was the first time in a week and a half that Mikah wasn’t strangled by anxiety about their classes and grades and Jen wasn’t working overtime, and so it really didn’t matter that Jen had had a fever all day and had barely gotten through a 10 hour shift at her restaurant and was two steps away from passing out on her feet. She couldn’t afford the time off, and she didn’t want to go home alone, so after work, Jen got in her car and chugged some water and drove to Mikah’s apartment, and if she sort of greyed out for a second at stop signs and intersections along the way, that was manageable, that was ok. She snapped out of it by the time the light changed, anyway.

Keep reading

[mattieandnina]

Jen was supposed to meet Mikah for drinks and stay the night on Saturday night, and it was the first time in a week and a half that Mikah wasn’t strangled by anxiety about their classes and grades and Jen wasn’t working overtime, and so it really didn’t matter that Jen had had a fever all day and had barely gotten through a 10 hour shift at her restaurant and was two steps away from passing out on her feet. She couldn’t afford the time off, and she didn’t want to go home alone, so after work, Jen got in her car and chugged some water and drove to Mikah’s apartment, and if she sort of greyed out for a second at stop signs and intersections along the way, that was manageable, that was ok. She snapped out of it by the time the light changed, anyway.

Mikah met her at their door, gathering their long black hair into a ponytail, almond eyes tired behind their rectangle glasses.

“Hey, love, glad to see you.” They said, giving Jen a quick kiss on the cheek and beaconing her inside. Something about how Jen was feeling must have shown on her face, because Mikah did a double take as they shut their door behind her, studying her with a patience and intensity that she’d never been able to get used to.

“Are you alright, love? You look…kind of out of it.” Mikah reached out one brown, long-fingered hand and tilted Jen’s chin up. She shook her head out of their hand before they could feel the heat on her skin.

“’m’fine. Just tired.” She said brusquely, and then had to close her eyes and swallow a wave of dizziness and nausea. Her throat hurt. A lot.

“Are you?” Mikah asked again, voice sharp, and Jen had to take a deep breath before she could answer.

“Might be coming down with something.” She admitted, quietly. She couldn’t really lie to Mikah, but she didn’t want to ruin one of the few nights they had together, one of her few chances to be with this person that she’d fallen unexpectedly and wholeheartedly in love with. Jen kept her eyes averted as Mikah stroked her cheek again. Their hand rose to brush her forehead and retreated quickly, and she could hear them tutting under their breath.

“Moron, you’ve got a high fever. I can’t believe you still came over. You should go home and get some rest.”

“But I wanted to – “Jen’s protest was cut short as her stomach heaved, and she bit her lip, gulping against the bile rising up her throat, doubling over slightly to clutch at her belly. Mikah stepped to her side, running their hand lightly down her back. Jen swallowed hard, fighting through the haze of fever to complete her thought.

“Sorry.” She said in a sick half-whisper, gazing down, miserable. Mikah was tilting their head, surveying her still, their face unreadable. “I wanted to –“ here she gave a hiccupping gag, stopping herself from spitting on Mikah’s wooden floorboards only through conscious effort- “I just wanted to be with you.” She swayed a little on her feet, closing her eyes for a second.

“Love.” Mikah’s voice was soft, concerned, but edging into irritation. “Just tell me you’re sick, you don’t have to force yourself to – look, never mind, come sit down. How long have you been sick? Have you been taking aspirin or anything? You called out of work, right? No, you came from work, didn’t you.”

They were leading Jen over to their couch, interrupting themself, doing that thing they did when they got nervous where they just talked and talked. Jen let their words wash over her.

“Please tell me you didn’t work a 50 hour week while you’re sick, right? God, please stop doing that, it’s not, like, tenable, at all – and you work in food service, for god’s sake, you’re burning up and you’ve been making food for people all day and you’re on your feet for these shifts, and…Jen, just take care of yourself, for once in your life…”

Mikah sat her down on their couch, still talking. Now Jen couldn’t hear what they were saying at all, really, over the roaring in her ears. She watched them pace away and then back again, speaking syllables, and then they were sitting next to her and pressing some pills into her left hand and a glass of water into her right. Jen stared stupidly at both objects. Mikah kicked at her ankles, lightly, spurring her into movement.

“Jen. Take this aspirin. Drink this water. You’re sick and I’m scared for you.” They said flatly, and Jen obeyed.

The water felt far too cold, like an icicle lodged in her throat, but Jen ignored it, leaning against her lover and closing her eyes, trying to get her stomach to calm down.

“I’m okay. I’ll be okay.” She murmured, and winced when Mikah gave a sarcastic laugh.

“Yeah, you’ve got a fever so high you’re practically glowing, and you’re trying not to puke, you’re just fine.” Their harsh tone was eased by the way their arms wrapped around her shoulders, drawing her close against them. “Are you scheduled to work tomorrow? Don’t you dare lie to me, Jen.”

“Yeah. ‘Nother double. We’re short staffed, an’ there’s not a lot of reliable workers…” Jen trailed off, hiccupping, her body slipping sideways against Mikah, slowly traveling downwards so her head landed in their lap. They stroked her hair back gently, and she shuddered -she was suddenly so cold.

“I’m calling in for you, then. And you’re staying here tonight – like hell you’re driving home like this.  I can’t believe you even got here – I can’t believe you thought we were going to go out tonight.” Mikah scolded, their fingers gentle as they ran through Jen’s braids. Their tone had nothing to do with their movements, which were all caring and kindness, cradling Jen, keeping her safe and steady even as they kept castigating her, their voice irritable and afraid.

“Shh. Stop being scared.” Jen mumbled, reaching one shaking hand up to stroke Mikah’s cheek. Mikah laughed, the sound suddenly bright and free of nervousness, and leaned over to kiss Jen on the cheek.

“You’re the worst, you know that?” They murmured into her ear, tightening their arms around her. “I love you so much, but you’re the absolute worst.”

“Yeah.” Jen grinned. “S’why you-“ She interrupted herself, gagging, struggling upwards with weak arms, Mikah drawing away slightly.

“Are you going to be sick?” They asked in a practical tone. Jen nodded, burping wetly, covering her mouth. Her heart was beating too fast, her breath was shallow, and now her aching throat was clenching over and over again, trying to keep down the flood of bile that was threatening to overwhelm her. Mikah was moving, grabbing a trash can and shoving it in front of her face as she rocked back and forth, trying to keep from spewing vomit all over her lover’s floor.

“Okay, love, okay.” Mikah said gently, stroking her back. Jen shivered, choking, and opened trembling lips over the trash can.

For a second she thought she wasn’t going to throw up after all, only sit hunched and shivering while her stomach rose into her throat. And then she coughed slightly, and that movement made her stomach clench painfully, and then she was reeling forward, retching, throat burning with bile.

The water Jen had tried to chug down on the way over came up in one sudden rush that left her dizzy and reeling. She barely had a chance to breathe before a second wave of vomit poured out of her mouth, tasting like aspirin, barely warmed by her stomach.

Jen couldn’t hear what Mikah was saying, only the soft hum of their voice. They were stroking her back, gently, gathering her braids back away from her face. She coughed up another mouthful of watery bile and groaned.

She hadn’t really eaten much - her throat had been hurting, so she’d been drinking iced tea, because the kitchen was too hot for hot tea which might actually have helped. And when she had tried a little bite of bread, she’d spent the next hour of work stifling gags and trying not to let it show.  After the water was gone, there was nothing left in her stomach, really -  just painful bitter little spurts. She could feel Mikah’s cool hand on her forehead and leaned into it, gagging unproductively again. After what felt like forever, Jen was able to breath without retching. Her throat felt even more raw than before, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. She turned into Mikah’s shoulder, dizzy and ashamed.

“You need to sleep.” They said softly, stroking her hair like she was a child. Jen nodded, sniffling.

“Miss you.” She muttered, voice cracking, and felt Mikah’s arms tighten around her. “My beautiful, stupid, perfect darling.” Their voice was all concern and love, wrapping around her like a blanket. “I’m right here.”

[mattieandnina]

Only recently started using tumblr mobile and my goodness this is a very terrible app

[stomachflu]

i made a quiz for my fellow emetophiles!

i was bored and trying to create a list of my favorite kinds of puke, but i just couldn’t choose… so i made this page! it’s a pretty simple code with like, 10 different types of vomiting on it, and it has you choose one/sort through em to get to a final ranking, like this:

i stole most of these from the notes of this post, and played fast and loose with a lot of the definitions. (for example, combining anxiety and panic attacks, and the more general keyword “allergies”.)

to take the quiz, just go here, and feel free to share your own results when you’re finished and/or suggest new list items!

[talamabear]

Seems correct!

[mattieandnina]

sounds about right but move stomach flu/illness up a few slots - I think it’s because I had in mind that I enjoy a second party gagging the sick person. 

[toosicktoocare]

A fun game I saw from a different post I can no longer find: 

Drop in my inbox and tell me where you’re from (as specific or not specific as you want), your age, and how long you’ve been following me! 

[mattieandnina]

In related news, I’ve added Alana to my character page

[sickandvomiting]

Avi and Alana, Pt. 1/?

A collab with the lovely @mattieandnina, using their character Alana and my character Avi! This was so much fun to write, and I hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Alana’s history of informational sciences class was across campus from the smaller Classics archives where she was interning as part of an archive course, so every day she walked the same path at the same time, and saw the same person painting. She’d noticed them at the beginning of the semester - perched on the edge of a stone bench, bent over an easel, their wide-brimmed hat hiding their face and whatever they were working on. Alana had been surprised - well, not very surprised, given their artistic clothes, but interested - to see their face the next day, long and elegant and extravagantly made up. They were very attractive, but clearly out of her league - probably had one or more well dressed art student partners, and no interest in an awkward library student who was too big for any room. But they were always there, like clockwork, painting. Alana would always give them a quick nervous “we’re both clearly queer” smile, and trying to see what they were working on became part of her routine.

Today, on her way across campus, Alana noticed that the person wasn’t in their usual pose - they weren’t concentrating on their work, they were just sitting and looking absently into the distance, their dry brush hanging from their fingers. And they looked a little…off. Pale, maybe. Alana slowed, worrying. If she said something, that was probably intrusive, right? But maybe they’d appreciate the concern…

Finally drawing even with the person, she bit her lip and cleared her throat.

“Um, excuse me, I’m sorry if this is rude, but I see you every day, and you look…are you doing alright?”

The painter’s unfocused eyes turned slowly toward her, as though they were dragging themself from a hazy trance back to reality. Their gaze settled on her pink tinged cheeks, and they smiled sweetly, a slight twinkle in their strikingly grey eyes.

“You notice me every day, huh?” they said with a barely perceptible wink. Alana wasn’t sure it had even happened at first, but when the person chuckled at her surprised expression she knew it hadn’t been a trick of the mind. It was a dry kind of laugh, one that, on any other day would likely be very lovely and warm, but today it just lacked something. She couldn’t tell what. She hadn’t expected them to be southern, for some reason, but she liked the way their words sort of curled at the edges.

“You are right here.” Alana pointed out, acutely aware that she was blushing. She couldn’t help smiling back, and couldn’t figure out what to do with her hands. “You must see me walking by.”

Oh, that was probably rude, though, because they were usually focused on their work, or maybe it came off as cocky- Alana told herself internally to relax and focus on the artist.

“Oh I’ve seen you a few times here and there. Cute sweater vests never escape my notice,” they said, their gaze flicking quickly down then back up to Alana’s face, cocking an eyebrow flirtily and watching with amusement as the red of her cheeks deepened even further. They pulled out a small sketchbook and a very worn down pencil and quickly jotted down a circle before turning back to her.

“I’m Avi, by the way.” They set their brush on the lip of their little easel and extended a slender hand, adorned with all kinds of elegant rings, most of which resembled branches and flowers and other natural things.

“Alana.” She replied, shaking Avi’s hand and resisting the urge to turn it this way and that to examine their rings. Their hand felt a little warmer than usual - maybe because they were sitting out in the sun.

“It’s nice to meet you…you’re sure you’re okay?” She asked, hoping that wouldn’t be the end of the conversation. She wasn’t supposed to be at the archives for another forty minutes, that was more than enough time to stand and talk.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Avi stated, just a bit too forcefully. They ran their hand through their dark purple hair, brushing it back from their forehead and tucking it behind their ear. They added a few more details to whatever they were sketching and spoke quickly, eager to change the subject.

“It’s a lovely day out, don’t you think?”

They hoped Alana hadn’t picked up on the truth - they were feeling decidedly under the weather. Their eyelids were heavy and their face far too warm, and their stomach didn’t quite feel right either. Their face remained a perfect facade, despite their odd outburst, and they smiled brightly up at Alana.

Alana smiled back, motioning to the bench next to Avi a little nervously. She didn’t want to crowd them, but…

“Um, can I sit? That way you’re not looking right at the sun.” She said, holding her hands awkwardly behind her back. No, this was like what creepy guys did, this was a creepy thing to say, she already felt gross. “If you’re not - I mean, I can also just stand off the path, um…”

Ugh, this was making it worse.

“Of course you can sit! I appreciate the company.” Avi patted the bench beside them, and scooted over a bit to make room. They studied the tall girl with curious eyes as she timidly sat down beside them.

“Thanks.” Alana said, glancing sideways at Avi. They were staring at her a little bit. Not in a “how dare she intrude on me” kind of way, in….another way. Alana felt her blush deepen. She must be bright red by now.

She nodded to Avi’s easel. “You must be an art student - are you an undergrad? Or do you just like painting?”

“Oh, I’m not a student here. I just enjoy coming here to work. There’s so much life, and I can always use a little bit more of that.” They smiled wryly, looking away momentarily. Catching themself after a second, they added. “At least that’s what I tell other people. Really I just come here to look for cute people to sketch.” They turned their eyes toward the page and scribbled in a few more strokes.

Alana nodded, watching Avi’s hands as they sketched.

“I hope it’s not weird to say, but I’ve peeked at your work before.” She admitted, still focused on Avi’s hands instead of their face. “I don’t really know much about art, but…it’s neat. It seems like you have kind of, um, a few different styles?”

“Yeah, it really depends what I’m doing it for,” they said, not looking up from the sketchbook save for a few quick glances up to her face. “I’m a street artist, so when I’m getting paid for it, it’s typically quick caricatures, or lettering, maybe watercolor. But for my more serious stuff I like to do impressionistic stuff. Think kinda like Monet, but shittier.” they chuckled. “That’s why I come here, though. To practice.”

They bit back a burp as their stomach rolled. It had started to gurgle a little, feeling a bit swollen and uncomfortable under their loose top. They were sure it would be visibly distended were it not for the layers of fabric. However, they kept their attention on the sketch and quickly put a few more details into it, trying not to show their growing discomfort.

“Do you draw at all?” they asked, momentarily looking up at Alana’s face.

Alana shook her head, suddenly realizing that they were drawing her. She couldn’t keep a slow smile from spreading across her face, charmed and flattered.

“I don’t - not since I was a little kid, anyway. The only creative thing I do is play piano, but I’m out of practice since I can’t fit one in my apartment.” She laughed lightly, trying not to move too much. “You’re an artist full-time? Or do you do other work?”

“Playing piano is actually my other job,” Avi said excitedly. “The universe is so strange that way, isn’t it?” They returned to their sketch, but continued speaking as they drew. “I play piano in a blues band with a few friends. That plus the money from street performances with art and keys is enough to pay the rent, though just barely.” They finished the drawing with a flourish of their hand and a Done! and turned the book around to show Alana the finished drawing, eyes wide and expectantly awaiting her appraisal.

Alana was starting to say something excitedly about piano, when Avi turned their sketchbook around. Her hand flew up to her cheek in delight. There she was, captured on the paper in loose, fluid lines - her dark narrow eyes, her wide face, her flat nose and generous lips - all slightly caricatured, but still clearly her. Avi had even shaded her cheeks lightly where she was blushing.

“Oh! You’re so good!” She gasped, grinning. “That’s so - wow!”

“Oh, a drawing is only as “wow” as it’s subject,” they said, their drawl twisting the words flirtatiously. “I told you I come here to find cute people to sketch.” They grinned and wagged their eyebrows at Alana, laughing as she blushed a deep crimson. They tore the page carefully out of the book, signed it quickly, and held it out for her to take. “Free of charge,” they said with a smile.

Alana took it carefully, her own smile widening as she met Avi’s eyes. She opened her messenger bag and delicately slipped it into a notebook. She didn’t want it to get torn or smudged - she wanted to keep it safe until she got home and she could look at it properly. Framing it would be too much, but putting it away in a drawer somewhere, where she could pull it out and look at it from time to time…remind herself of someone who had really seen her. She was getting far too maudlin about it.

“Even if it’s free of charge, maybe I could buy you a coffee…if you’re not busy, of course.” She said softly, running her hand self-consciously over her hair.

Despite the churning protests of their stomach at the mere mention of putting something into it, Avi was not about to turn down such a sweet offer. Besides, if they got a tea, perhaps it would help to quell their rising nausea.

“I’d love to!” They said, gathering their things into a large messenger bag.

Alana stood quickly, shifting her bag. “Do you want help getting all your stuff together?” She asked, voice eager. The thought of being late for her internship crossed her mind, and she glanced at her watch - plenty of time. And even if she was a little late, it was worth it.

“Naw, I’ve got it. Thank you though!” Avi finished collapsing down their little easel and tucked it into their bag, pulling the strap over their shoulder before standing up. The sudden change in altitude brought with it a wave of nausea so strong that it made their head spin. The world tilted beneath their feet as they stumbled forward, and were it not for Alana’s steadying hands, they likely would have ended up on the ground.

“Oh-” Alana stepped forward and caught Avi by the shoulder and the hand as they stumbled. As they made contact, her blush deepened, and then she was stepping backward slightly, making sure Avi could stand on their own before she reluctantly withdrew her hands.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” She asked again, peering at Avi’s face. “If you’re not feeling well, we can always have coffee another time…”

“No, I’m alright! It’s just that heels and headrushes don’t mix.” They composed themself quickly, drawing themselves up to their full stature. With the added height from the heels, they towered over Alana. They teetered a bit as their head tried to stop spinning, and braced themself on her shoulder momentarily, inwardly cursing themself for wearing heels.

“Nice catch though! You should play baseball!” they joked half heartedly before starting off toward the cafeteria, one hand brushing their roiling gut out of Alana’s view.

Alana glanced up at Avi (They were so tall! She had only seen them sitting down!), concerned and not quite believing their nonchalant attitude. But she didn’t want to push.

“You’re lucky I didn’t drop you.” She said wryly, instead, tingling a little from Avi’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m not always this coordinated.”

Avi seemed a little breathless, or maybe uncomfortable? Alana didn’t know them well enough to really tell. She had to walk a little faster than usual to keep up with their long steps.

“What’s the name of your band?” She asked, tilting her head up to meet their eyes.

“Bill… I know, I know-“ they said, seeing Alana’s questioning eyes. “It wasn’t my idea. I joined late, and by then the name was set in stone.” Avi slowed their pace a little, both to give Alana a bit of relief from her trot to keep up and to avoid jostling their stomach. They could feel their rather sizable breakfast sloshing around with each step, and swallowed discreetly, Adam’s apple bobbing a bit as they did.

“Bill?” Alana repeated, laughing brightly. “I like it, it’s a very matter of fact name.” She watched a look of discomfort cross Avi’s face, and winced in sympathy. They definitely weren’t feeling well, no matter how hard they were trying to hide it. Maybe they’d feel better once they got inside and sat down?

The cafeteria was fairly close, in any case. Alana suppressed the urge to ask once again if Avi was okay, and instead led the way towards the nearest entrance.

She held the door open for Avi, and they had just opened their mouth to thank her for it when the smell of food hit them like a truck. The scents of pizza, fried chicken, shitty burgers, and low-quality Americanized Chinese food, coffee, and warm trash from the bin by the door assaulted them. It took all of their willpower to bite back the gag that was working on their throat, but the damage had already been done. They shook their head, trying to clear the smell from their nostrils, but the motion agitated their stomach even more and they gulped, feeling saliva beginning to pool in their mouth. Choking back another gag, they tasted bile at the back of their throat. No no, not here!

They staggered to the side and clamped a hand over their mouth, bracing themself against the wall with the other as their stomach churned and pitched.

Alana turned sharply as Avi collapsed against the outside wall of the cafeteria, letting the door swing shut again as she stepped to their side. “Oh, cripes, are you - how can I help?” She asked, reaching up to lay a gentle hand on their shoulder, ready to step away at the slightest movement. Avi was pale and sweating, covering their mouth with one trembling hand. Alana stroked their shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting way, peering anxiously up at their face.

Avi panted heavily behind their palm, and continued to swallow repeatedly, almost desperately. Their eyes darted about frantically, searching for something, anything, that could provide a little privacy. They knew they didn’t have long before they wouldn’t be able to choke it back, and quickly lurched toward the biggest tree within walking distance, rather hoping that Alana would follow. It didn’t much privacy, but at least they could try and hide behind it a little.

Another gag had their stomach doing flips inside them and their cheeks ballooned out with bile and a mouthful of their semi-digested breakfast. They held it uncomfortably in their mouth until they reached the tree and rounded it, spewing another slightly larger wave at its base and groaning.

Alana trotted along after Avi, nervous that they just wanted to be alone, but unwilling to let the other person out of her sight - she didn’t want to just leave them sick on their own. She was a few steps behind Avi, close enough to see them drop behind a large oak tree, hearing a gurgling noise and a splash of liquid.

Alana paused, just around the edge of the trunk, glancing around for people looking. No one seemed to have noticed Avi being sick, as far as she could tell - she could see students and professors on their way from one class to the next, but no faces turned their way. Staring at the ground, she stepped forward, clearing her throat to make sure she wasn’t creeping up on Avi.

“Do you, um…I’m sorry. If you want me to go, I can go, I don’t want to, um - it’s just, I don’t want to leave you like this on your own…” Alana tsked her tongue at herself, stumbling over her words while Avi was clearly needing help. She shook her head lightly and forced herself to step forward again, no longer hiding behind the thick trunk of the tree. “I’m worried about you.” She said, as plainly as she could. “If you don’t want me here, it’s fine, but you’ll have to let me know if there’s someone else who can take care of you, because I’m kind of scared to leave you on your own, sweetheart.”

The last word slipped out of its own accord.

Avi wanted to respond, to tell her that they appreciated the company, to ask her to rub their back, but they kept burping up small mouthfuls of sick that landed with little splatters in the growing puddle in the dirt. They could hardly breathe between waves, let alone speak. They sagged against the tree, getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen and overwhelming nausea, and collapsed to their knees. They gestured almost desperately for her to come closer, and tapped their shoulder to let her know they wanted contact, but didn’t turn to face her as their stomach kept small waves bubbling nearly constantly up their throat.

Alana dropped to her knees next to Avi, placing her hand on their shoulder where they were tapping. She could see the desperation in Avi’s gestures, and couldn’t help rushing to their side. As they nodded forward, gagging helplessly, she softly caught their forehead in her palm, holding them steady as gently as she could, stroking their sweaty hair out of their face. Avi’s skin was hot against her hand. Alana supported them carefully, feeling their body jerk forward as they vomited again and again.

Slimy eggs and hashbrowns mixed with bile and orange juice slicked over Avi’s tongue as they burped helplessly toward the ground. When they could finally get a full breath in, they gasped, and keened low in their throat as they waited for more to come up. They weren’t done yet.

Carefully, Alana re-settled her arm around Avi’s shoulder, the fingers of her right hand tangled in Avi’s hair. She bit her lip, suddenly all too aware of how close they were.

“Y-you’re alright…” she murmured, stroking her hand back through Avi’s hair. “You’re going to be alright.”

Avi leaned into her cool hand, face feeling all too warm despite the chills running up and down their back as they started throwing up again. It seemed there was no end to what was in their stomach, each little burp bringing with it another mouthful of yellowish sludge, which was quickly becoming thick and difficult to get up. They coughed hard as a piece of what was probably toast got stuck in their throat. A particularly violent cough dislodged it, and it was quickly followed by a larger wave of puke that splattered into the dirt noisily. Tendrils of slime dangled from their lips and nose, and they shuddered violently and chuffed as another chill overtook them.

“You’re okay.” Alana said again, stroking the side of Avi’s face as they coughed and shivered. Their forehead was warm, even given the heat of the day - clearly they had a fever, at least. Alana tried to hold them steady as they heaved, their body shaking in between waves of sickness.

As Avi caught their breath, she fumbled in her bag for something to help, while trying to keep their dark purple hair out of their face. Finally, Alana produced a packet of tissues, pressing one against Avi’s nose.

“Blow.” She instructed, before blushing, realizing how absurdly maternal and weirdly condescending that was.

They reluctantly obliged, embarrassed but also very grateful as they weren’t sure they could even lift their trembling hands to their face for long enough to do it themself. Alana pulled the tissue away and refolded it before pressing it back to their nose a second time with a fresh surface. Avi blew again, but choked momentarily and hastily swatted her hand away as another trickle of sick came up. The world was spinning around them; stars danced around their field of vision, and for a moment they were sure they were going to pass out, but managed to stay conscious. They heaved unproductively a few times, seemingly empty at last until the very last dregs of their breakfast was forced up their throat with a particularly harsh retch.

They sagged where they were kneeling, almost collapsing into the sizeable puddle in front of them, but fell sideways against Alana, who pulled them backwards, cradling them against her.

For a moment, Alana was silent, waiting for Avi to be sick again, or to push her away, or both. And then her heart started racing again, and she was sitting Avi up, propping their limp body up against the back of the oak tree, raising their chin with her fingers so they were looking her in the eyes.

“Avi? Can you - okay, please don’t tell me you’re alright - do you need to go to a doctor? I can take you to campus health or something, or…or I can give you a ride home, or…” Alana was staring at Avi’s face, frightened by the vague look in their eyes. She reached up and wiped away a bit of bile at the corner of their lips, smudging their makeup, without thinking about it.

“Tell me how to help. Please.”

It took a moment for Avi’s unfocused eyes to zero in on her face.  Their mind was sluggish and working slowly on what was the best thing to do. But they came up empty and disregarded the question until they had a bit more time to work through it.

“You’re gonna be late for class,” they rasped instead, throat raw and voice cracking from the acid and grating retches.

Alana shook her head firmly, brushing Avi’s hair back from their eyes.

“I’d hate myself if I left you like this. You’re clearly sick - you need to get home, at least. If you don’t want me here that’s fine, but I’m not going to leave until someone else comes to take care of you.”

She paused, softening her tone. She didn’t want to yell at Avi, even though her heart was beating double time.

“Is there someone I should call, or do you want me to stay with you?” She asked quietly, keeping her voice as light as she could.

Avi thought for another moment, leaving her in expectant silence while their hazy mind worked through possible scenarios, and tried to remember if anyone else was available to pick them up, but realized they were all either in class or working. They didn’t want her to have to care for them, but when they really thought about it, it would be nicer to have someone gentle like Alana over their rather abrasive friends.

“You’re sweet. All my friends are either in classes or working,” they said slowly. “If you have time to spare, I’d appreciate a ride, but I don’t want you to miss class.”

“It’s okay. It’s an internship, not a class, it’s - that doesn’t matter.” Alana said, blushing. “In any case, I’m fine, it’s fine - I’d rather take you home than spend the rest of the day worrying about you.”

She got to her feet, slowly, avoiding the pile of vomit that Avi had left at the base of the tree and offering her hand to them. “Do you think you can walk a little ways?”

“If we go slowly,” they said, sounding unsure. They took her hand and stood cautiously, testing their unsteady legs like a newborn foal. When they felt sure that their knees weren’t about to buckle, they leaned against Alana. “Okay, I think I’ll be alright.”

Usually Alana felt too large for herself, obtrusive, in the way. But as Avi leaned heavily on her, stumbling a little, she was glad to be big, sturdy enough to support them.

“Okay, sweetheart, it’s just a little walk.” She said, wrapping her arm around Avi’s waist to steady them. “Tell me if you feel sick, okay?”

“Alright,” they said, keeping their eyes forward. They walked in silence for a few moments, keeping their eyes locked on the horizon before uttering a quiet “Thank you.”

Alana nodded, blushing, before realizing that Avi probably couldn’t see her.

“You’re welcome.” She said softly, glancing up at their face, still pale and sweating. “And if you ever want to, um…when you’re feeling better, of course…that offer to buy you a coffee is still open.”

[mattieandnina]

this was a joy to write and @sickandvomiting is a great writer and a delight to write with. We’re probably gonna keep writing these two together for a bit? it’s fun as hell.

[mattieandnina]

How’s about all the emeto questions for Megan, Kelly, and Fi? ❤️❤️ it’s nice to see you back!

Thanks!  Nice to see you too <3

(alcohol and drug use cw)

1. What position do they get in when throwing up into the toilet - kneeling or squatting or standing?Megan and Kelly kneel, and Fi sits next to it and kind of slumps over.

2. Hand braced against the wall or clutching to the rim of the toilet?Megan usually braces herself hands on her knees when she’s throwing up, Fi and Kelly clutch at the toilet bowl. 

3. Do they hold their stomach or not want to touch it?Megan and Fi both hold their bellies and like having them rubbed by others, Kelly doesn’t usually like other people touching her stomach when she’s sick.4. Shirt on or off?Shirts on for all 3 unless something sexy is going on (Fi always has hir shirt on regardless)

5. Let their mouth hang open or clamp it shut when puking?

Kelly keeps her mouth shut and tries to swallow it down, Megan is self-conscious about drooling, and Fi lets hir mouth hang open - ze’d rather get it all out at once. 

6. Projectile vomit or small amount?All three of them tend to vomit in large volume at first - Kelly stops puking very quickly, while Fi tends to dry heave and cough up little mouthfuls of vomit after ze’s emptied out hir stomach. For Megan, it depends on if she’s drunk or not - if she drinks, she keeps throwing up profusely, but if she’s sober she usually dry heaves a few times and she’s done. 

7. Look for a toilet/bucket as soon as they start to feel nauseous or only when they’re about to lose it?Fi plans ahead, if ze feels nauseous in public ze has a route to a bathroom planned out immediately. Kelly generally also can make it to somewhere private before she needs to throw up, although if she gets drunk or suddenly sick it can get dicey. Megan goes from fine to super sick very quickly, and is always scrambling for something to puke into. 

8. Likes to drink water or refuses to have anything?

it depends on the situation - Kelly doesn’t like feeling over-full ever, so will always refuse water if she feels it’s going to come up again. Megan tries to stay hydrated if she’s throwing up, but if it won’t stay down she’d rather just keep her stomach empty. However, if she’s feeling slightly sick and needs that extra push, she chugs water. Fi, on the other hand, is bullheaded about hydration and pesters hir partners to give hir water even if ze can’t keep it down. 

9. Do they get dizzy when they’re nauseous or is it purely tummy trouble?

Depends on the cause of nausea - Megan has motion sickness, which makes her kind of dizzy, and all three of them get dizzy when drunk/on drugs. Kelly doesn’t usually drink, but Megan likes getting drunk and throwing up, and Fi gets nauseous about most drugs. 

10. Are they a vocal complainer or stoical silent sufferer?

Megan COMPLAINS, which is part of her being very subby and wanting to be taken care of. Fi tries to play stoic, but breaks down very quickly if anyone wants to take care of hir. Kelly extremely dislikes people taking care of her unless she’s genuinely ill, in which case she doesn’t want it to be sexualized at all.