Exploring different aspects of whump and the vulnerability in healing blah blah blah It doesn't matter, seasickness is my fave and fire is weak to water. I just wanted him on a boat again.
Absolutely, criminally underrated: “dock rock” or land sickness.
While seemingly a bit rarer than seasickness, many people report feeling dizzy, off-balance, and nauseous for a few days following getting off a boat that you’ve been on for an extended period of time.
Have an OC that gets seasick, but gains their sea legs fairly quickly? Hit them with that land sickness once they disembark. Their vestibular system hates the transition period, both ways, and it knocks them flat on their ass again even though they had finally felt better.
Have an OC that gets seasick the whole damn time, and struggles to ever get sea legs? Sorry, the nausea follows them even once they’re back on land like they had so desperately wanted. A never-ending bad reaction. “Ugh… I thought I was free of this.”
Have an OC that doesn’t get seasick? Congrats—this is real—people who do not get seasick can get land sick. It can seriously happen. They feel fine, untouchable even, and then once they step off that boat they’re incapacitated laying in bed begging for the dizziness to stop.
After Jonah had taken the wedding planning from his hands, Leo had been given one singular duty: plan their honeymoon.
He had taken to it like a house on fire, unlike the wedding where he had to account for 20 different variables — like all the different traditions and all of their guests — honeymoon was supposed to be only about them.
Jonah had displayed his full trust in Leo's planning skills by not interfering in anything and eagerly agreeing with the destination he had chosen, Greece.
Now Leo wondered what the hell had been going through his mind when he picked it. Rationally he knew it was because he had loved Sicily and wanted to keep the Mediterranean theme going. He also knew he wanted beaches, but not a tropical country. And yes, he had realized that all activities and locations needed to be reached by boat, but Leo had erroneously assumed his motion sickness would be fine, given those were open, quick motorboats, instead of sailing boats. If he could survive quick drives even though he got carsick, he could drive quick sailings, right?
Wrong.
The first boat, to Milos, where their hotel was, had a little two tier platform, much like bleachers, large enough that it offered enough stability to fool him for the first 40 minutes of trip. Leo sat on the bottom row, under Jonah and right between his legs, exchanging a happy smile with his husband as he did it and rested his forearms on Jon's knees.
Their guide was blabbing on and on about the many itineraries that the hotel provided and at first Leo had been happily listening, but he had quickly realized trying to focus on the woman in front of them with the moving land behind her was making him dizzy.
He tilted his head back, staring at the cerulean sky and relishing on the warm breeze. A shadow, Jonah leaning over him and pressing a kiss to Leo's forehead, to the bridge of his nose and to his cheek, upside down.
They were quick kisses, publicly accepted pecks, but still a bunch of butterflies erupted in Leo's stomach. He wrinkled his nose, opening a smile as Jon tugged slightly at the roots of his hair so he could tilt Leo's head back enough for Jonah to kiss him on the lip.
"Everything alright?" Jon said in a low tone, fishing out the blonde's sunglasses resting on the neck of his t-shirt, planting them on Leo's face.
It helped just a little, reducing the glare of the sun bouncing off the sea and the white of the boat, but not enough.
"Everything's great," Leo lied, leaning back against Jon, resting his arms on his thighs and focusing his attention on the horizon.
Their tour guide was still droning on, trying to decipher the broken English of a couple other tourists and Jonah was helpfully chiming in here and there as he picked out a French word.
The butterflies in his stomach were doing somersaults and Leo muffled a little burp on his fist, grimacing at the taste. After they had landed from the 15 hour long flight, in Mykonos, they had all but passed out immediately in the overnight hotel room. Now he was regretting having had a traditional Greek breakfast, the two slices of spanakopita sitting in his belly like bricks, fermenting with all the yoghurt and berries.
"Oh my God, dolphins!" Jonah breathed out, at the same time as two other people and some kids let out a squeal. The whole boat moved as everyone got up, rushing to the right side so they could see the pod of dolphins jumping out of the water and swimming alongside them.
Jon tugged at Leo's arm as he rushed up too, dragging him with, and Leo bit down a moan, since the movement shattered his flimsy grip on the nausea and dizziness.
Jonah was leaning on the railing in order to watch the dolphins and Leo silently mourned the fact he couldn't enjoy seeing Jon being this carefree and even silly. He was talking with random strangers and didn't seem able to stop smiling, even if they were both jet lagged and still tired from the wedding.
Instead, Leo was too busy muffling a string of little wet burps in his fist, partially glad that the commotion hid the sound of them. The final one was particularly gross, sending a splash of reflux up his throat.
Fuck.
Jonah's fingers curled around his, intertwining their hands, and he pulled Leo through the commotion, pointing at the horizon, "Leo, look!"
Leo glanced at dolphins and immediately regretted it, a wave of dizziness making his face feel all tingly as he struggled to find a fixed point. He had tried looking at the horizon, but it was doing a whole lot of nothing to help.
"Cute," Leo bit out, swallowing the sudden dampness in his mouth, thick saliva nearly causing him to gag. He could taste the spinach and the butter and his stomach rolled at the thought.
"Go over there, let me get a picture," Jonah pushed Leo towards the railing, grabbing his phone out of his pocket and gesturing, "Go! Before they dive back-"
Leo was dizzy enough he was struggling to walk in a straight line and instead of gracefully moving to where Jonah was pushing him to, Leo stumbled and braced against the railing.
"Leo?"
He held out a finger, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to keep his stomach in check. His stomach squeezed and a rattling, brassy burp made it out of his lips, but Leo was feeling too gross to get any relief from it. Instead he just pressed his lips in a tight line, trying not to gag.
"Oh baby," Jonah's voice was incredibly soft, suddenly much closer so he could he heard over the noise of the waves clashing against the boat. The rocking that had been almost imperceptible at the start, was now very noticeable. Leo leaned in, lowering his forehead to the metal railing, feeling claustrophobic in his own skin.
It was a really warm morning, the sun making sweat run down his back and his nape. The dizziness causing his ears to ring and the pressure on his temples to grow.
Jonah's hand came to rest in the middle of his back, not rubbing, just steady there. Leo tried to focus on it, but his stomach was rolling too much and the boat dipped once more, more violently than before, causing a couple passengers to let out a squeal, while his stomach contents rocketed to his throat.
"Fuck," Leo breathed out, sweaty hands sliding on the railing as he straightened up, leaning towards the sea. He spat the warm, overflowing saliva and let out another thick burp, coughing at the end of it. The choppy waters were of a deep blue, white foam forming as it hit the boat and creating swirly patterns, that Leo felt were being mimicked by his breakfast inside of him.
"Eyes on the horizon, baby," Jonah's hands moved, one wrapping at Leo's bicep, the other one on his forehead, keeping him from falling off the boat, "we're almost there, just try to breathe."
They were not almost there. There were two more hours ahead.
Instead of voicing that, Leo grabbed on the rail with all his force, trying to ride out the nausea... The boat dipped once more and his head swam, goosebumps appearing as he lurched forward with a violent heave.
His breakfast was still not all that digested, a chunky horrible wave that caused him to choke and cough for air. Jonah thumped his back and another round hit him, more liquid and bitter, spectacularly green.
The waves crashed against the side of the boat, sending a thin spray of cold, salty water all over them, and before Leo had been appreciating the smell, but now all he could think of was fish. Rotten, fishy smell-
"Shit, Leo," Jonah's grip squeezed on his shoulder as Leo turned inside out, revulsion making him gag several times in a row, "don't fall off the boat."
Vaguely he heard someone else speak. Jonah's voice once more, but now in he was talking in French... Leo cleared his throat, spitting out a glob of saliva and bits and pieces of his breakfast.
The nausea lessened just a smidge, but the pressure on his temples stayed, the dizziness too. He wanted to lie down, but Leo knew he'd only feel more out of it if he did.
"Take a sip, love," Jonah pushed a water bottle against his lips, "no need to swallow, just a sip to clear your mouth."
He obeyed, swishing it around and the spitting the lukewarm water back in the sea. He stayed hunched over the railing for a minute more, the metal bar pressing against his stomach and pushing up a string of little burpy-gags.
"Leo," the back of Jonah's hand was pressed against his cheek and Leo forced his eyes open, which he didn't remember having closed. It was still really bright and Jon had a deep frown etched between his brows. He had removed his sunglasses and was squinting at Leo, lips pressed into a severe line, "you think you can lie down?"
Leo hesitated, struggling to be coherent, "don't- Don't feel well..."
It seemed to be all answer that Jonah needed, because then Leo was being grabbed by his arms and gently pulled away from the railing, so he could fall down a padded down bench. A couple children were eyeing him curiously and Leo blushed, wanting nothing more than for a hole to open and swallow him up.
"Here," Jonah pushed a bucket in his arms, crouching down in front of Leo so he could push him back against the back of the seating, "not much further, baby."
"Liar," Leo scoffed, leaning in so he could drool over the bucket. Jon got up and Leo slumped slightly, the top of his head meeting his husband's stomach, feeling Jon plant a hand back on his back and grip on the railing behind them, as if to make himself steady enough for Leo to use as an anchor.
It seemed to go on forever. Eventually Leo had nothing more to bring up, and no water stayed down. He had a headache from all the heaving and dehydration, the sun still shining down on their heads. His stomach was sore and Leo was well past just feeling miserable and into crying territory when suddenly the boat lurched. The nauseating swaying turned rougher and Leo forced up a burp over the bucket, whining in the back of his throat, "whaat'sss..."
"We're getting to the port," Jonah's hand squeezed his nape, "you'll be out of the boat in a minute."
Leo nodded, bringing up another mouthful of soupy bile, bitter and bright yellow. Ew.
No sooner Jonah had said that, then there were other hands on Leo's arm. Not Jon's, different, calloused — Jonah's hands were gentle, soft and well manicured. Leo's head snapped and he saw a fat, bald man towering over him.
To his left, Jonah was grabbing his opposite arm and together all three of them managed to get Leo off the boat and onto the wooden deck. He stumbled as soon as his feet made contact with the floor, nearly going down to his knees.
Jonah caught him by the waist, grabbing Leo before he could go down and throwing his arm around his shoulder, "I got you, I got you-" then to the other man he said a string of French words. Whatever. Leo's head lolled and he buried it against Jonah's neck, trying to breath through the dizziness.
He didn't even feel any relief from being out of the boat, everything still seemed to be swaying and his head was pounding. Was this what Luke felt with a migraine? Or Jon with his vertigo?
"Baby," Jonah's mouth brushed against his forehead, "can you stomach getting in the taxi or do you want to sit down for a bit? I really want to get you to the hotel..."
Leo shrugged, "doesn't matter," he slurred, "hotel."
The rest was a blur. He vaguely knew that Jonah was shuffling them forward, talking with their guide — she sounded unconcerned, so at least there was that? —, then some other voice, much sharper and speaking in quick fire Greek... At some point Leo dozed off in the back of a cab.
When he woke up again, he was sprawled on their hotel bed. To his right there was a trashcan on the ground, a water bottle sitting on the bedside table and the A/C was running, making him shiver.
"Hey," Jonah cooed, his voice impossibly soft. The curtains had been pulled, but it was still bright out. How long had it been, "Leo?"
"How- How long..." he tried to push himself up, only to wince as his head continued to throb. Jonah noticed, moved away from the side of the bed, then returned with some aspirin.
"Not long," Jon passed him the pill, breaking the bottle seal, "you got knocked out at the cab-"
"How did you..."
"The hotel crew helped me," Jonah smiled at him and Leo took the meds, the sip of water making Leo realized he was parched. He took another large gulp, then another, then let out a whine as Jon pulled the bottle away from his mouth, causing it to spill down his chin.
"Jon..."
"Sorry," Jonah sighed, "but you'll make yourself sick again and I would really rather not take you to a hospital in Greece. I don't even know where I'd begin with that..."
"Maybe choosing a country that doesn't speak our language was a mistake," Leo grumbled, his voice shot and raspy. Jonah let out a little amused huff through his nose, his hand coming up to cup the blonde's cheek.
"No, we'll manage. It was just a minor set back," he reassured, causing Leo's stomach to clench once more, this time with butterflies. He felt a guilty pang at the fact he had caused such a ruckus at the start of their trip.
"Did you..." Leo paused, squeezing his eyes shut and muffling a sickening belch against his fist. This time it was relieving, easing the awful sloshing in his belly, "urgh, excuse me. Did you manage to get a picture with the dolphins?"
Jonah's eyebrows shot up and he let out a cackle, seeming surprised himself by his outburst. Leo opened a timid smile, "what? Why are you laughing at me?"
"I did, actually," Jon snorted, pulling away so he could retrieve his phone in the little table across their room. Leo mentally patted his own back at the choice, Jonah hadn't mentioned it and he still hadn't seen the view, but so far it seemed he had nailed a perfect balance between presidential suite and normal bedroom. It was comfy and Jon seemed right at home. One win, at last.
"Here," Jonah flopped on the bed, holding up his cellphone and Leo squinted at the screen.
There was a blurry picture, but even with its bad quality it was undeniable. Leo with his cheeks puffed out like a cartoon, a finger held up in the air as he struggled not to throw up, a dolphin seeming to be mocking him in the back, having just jumped out of the water.
"Oh man..." Leo whined, his cheeks burned, "that's horrible-"
"No, it's not," Jonah was grinning, "it's my new favorite picture, Mr. Wagner-Banks."
I always see emeto folks making themselves puke by overeating and things like that. I wonder if anyone has done something similar by pushing or testing their motion sickness/seasickness. 🤔
