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five-thousand-loaves-of-bread · 1 year

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anti psychiatry this anti psychiatry that, (maybe contrary to what my blog may make you believe), i have been around & low key doing anti psychiatry stuff for years…. but nothing has made me more vehemently anti psychiatry than tapering off my anti depressants….

this is half a joke me poking fun of my awful suffering half withdrawal symptoms extreme irritability but also like. half genuine…

incredibly short half life which means even if take it late for 2-3 hours, or sometimes even fucking take it on time, experience the most horrific brain zaps dizzy falling spell of my entire life… experience it at least once every minute any time move eye… makes me want to vomit want to puke my brain out want to knock myself unconscious for however long it takes makes me want to end it all just so never have to experience this ever again… so can imagine how terrible it is when stop for days…

but then places have the audacity to tell me “we don’t know why brain zaps happen🥺 (sappy eye emoji) not well understood🥺 (sappy eye emoji) no medical explanation other than it is observed🥺 (sappy eye emoji)” and “may even happen if you taper slowly sowwie 🥺 (sappy eye emoji) no avoiding it hehe”

or the fact that you’re not supposed to stop abruptly 🤪 but the lowest dose on the market is 25 mg and you can’t break the tablet because it’s extended release so you have to go from 25 to zero or take it once every two days or whatever and have it fluctuate. like have no other gradual option. just refuse! like pharmaceutical company just said no ❤️ (red heart emoji)

motherfucker i want to get violent (for legal reasons this is exaggerating)

it’s pristiq btw

#etemophobia tw #puking tw #suicide tw #<hints of it #anti psychiatry #there’s not really space to explain entirety of anti psychiatry or my beliefs so please don’t come pick fights #or tell me this is not anti psychiatry!!1!1!1! because i genuinely don’t have the energy to entertain you

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maurawrites · 1 year

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Melissa O’Neil as Lucy Chen in ‘The Rookie’ S2

#melissa o'neil #lucy chen #lucychenedit #the rookie #therookieedit #puking tw #omg im just realizing was this baby lucy's first lil undercover bit?#THE WAY SHE'S GROWN #maura makes things

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its-my-whump · 6 months

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Whumptober 16

No. 16: "Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

Hummingbird 16

(Story starts here, if you like) previous

Sam fell ungraciously to the ground and slumped to his side. He landed on his bruised left arm, but he was already unconscious before his dead weight hit the floor. His windpipe wasn't restricted this time.

The collar was still there, but it wasn't crushing his windpipe. Nevertheless, it was uncomfortablly restraining him. Sam swallowed against the sour taste in his mouth. He wasn't really alert just yet. His senses slowly awakening brought back the memory of waking up on the blanket in the basement. After a few attempts, he managed to slowly open his eyes. Yes, he was definitely in the same room from last night. The chain was attached to the ceiling again. He didn't know, what happened. Why he was on the ground, instead of hanging dead in his restrains. His cloths were still clammy and kind of stiff. He was laying on a blanket again, that hadn't been here, when he was left alone last night.

He shivered, at the same moment the battle of keeping the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach at bay was lost. Bile shot up and he reflexively turned to the side releaving himself forcefully. Only thin liquidly bile made its way outside, his gullet burned and his body thrembled under the unruly strain it brought up with.

Sam suddenly needed to cought in addition. He really did feel sick, but more like the flu sick, then like a stomach bug sick. He breathed against the constricting pain inside his body. It was getting worse. Maybe he was even running a fever.

He coughted again, which just unearthed even more acid from his insides.

He cought and heaved and breathed and cought again. His strength was leaving him, too fast. Something was wrong. This couldn't just be his body reacting to the stress of last night, could it?

A painfully hammering heartbeat later a big hand was on his shoulder steadying him, another big paw under his head. Everything was disgusting and sticky, but it didn't matter at all.

He had puke in his face and remains in his mouth. He was sure, he was laying on some of it. Stomach acid was burning in his throat. He was too weak to properly open his mouth anymore. But the smell and taste wanted to bring up more. Sam only dry heaved by now, it was wearing him out.

Additionally a bonebreaking shiver went through his exhausted body. White and black sparkles in his vision. His neck, lifted a bit for the effort of breathing, coughing and heaving, fell back into the embracing warm hand.

His extremties went limb again. "Hey, hey, hey. You need to stay with me, Sammy. Okay? Don't go where I can't follow, all right!"

Just now, he realised someone talking to him. A gentle voice from above, probably Grey.

"Easy my little hummingbird. I got you."

Sam couldn't really make out the words. His mind took its sweet time, but wouldn't come around anymore, it seemed.

"Stay with me. You're save with me."

His racing heart finally started to slow down. His ragged breathing became almost normal. But exhaustion still had a tight grip on him. So Sam didn't feel his hands being freed of the cuffs and just falling to the ground. He hardly registered the stinging in his bloody wrists, or the little prick of a needle in his neck, from which the collar had been removed.

His head instantly went to a foggy stupor, but he thought his dizziness was a result of his miserable appearance and last nights struggle.

Strong arms picked him up. Instictively, he put his head to the broad shoulder for stability and support. Actually, the most of all, for comfort. The man started walking. "I'v got you, my little hummingbird." It sounded vaguely familiar. Sam's alarms should have been screaming at him, but he was too weak and drugged to put 2 and 2 together anymore.

TBC

Hummingbird masterlist

@whumptober-archive

#whumptober2023 #no.16 #lyric #Don’t go where I can’t follow.#oc #puking tw #drugged tw #captivity tw #hummingbird #whump #writing #whump writing

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seldomscilence16 · 7 months

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Whumptober day 13:

"It comes and goes like the strength in your bones."

Cold compress | infection | "I Don't Feel So Good."

Fandom: Avengers

Prompts used: All

So while I ignore most of the MCU after certain events we shant name, I saw this quote and was like, yeah I can't not. So it has nothing to do with the later movies, its its own timelined thing (obv) and based more off fanfictions I like to read (fix its) than anything. So, please take things in stride. It's sort and basically a sick fic. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

….

When the world looks at Tony Stark, they see a spoiled rich boy.

And it's what Tony wants them to see of course. The Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist. Even Iron Man, the Super Hero he created, has so much speculation because he pilots the armor. Like Tony Stark could never truly be a hero… but he'd been there all his life. No matter how many things he creates to better the world and the people who live in it, he will always be…

But it's fine. Those who took the time to see past everything, who peeled his layers and stayed long enough to witness what he'd never outright say, they knew who Tony was. And while they were few and far between, Tony knew he was lucky to have any at all.

So being in a complex, surrounded by stubborn idiots who were not quite in that category yet- or ever with how things were going, but Iron Man could have teammates without having true friends, so long as the world got saved in the end- was quite the task for Tony to handle. And today, that meant a bunch of stubborn idiot heroes who refused to admit they were in fact sick.

Strange and Loki had assured them- and really it was just Tony, everyone else had been focusing fully on staying upright- that they would find the cure to whatever magical mischief their most recent adversary had cast on them. The two had not been spared so to speak, but they hadn't received the brunt of the attack and were ridiculously stubborn- that's gonna be Tonys word of the day, get over it. So with a fiery look of competition passed between them, Loki and Strange went their separate ways to see who could cure them all first, leaving the rest of them to fend for themselves.

As anyone could guess, in the ever growing list of assumptions about Stark, there was the assumption he was a needy whiny clingy sick person. Where anyone got that he couldn't tell you, he was tactile and often refused any form of contact from people he didn't fully trust. But as it was, the world saw what they wanted, which included the added fact that surely a spoiled rich boy would know next to nothing on how to care for others when they're sick.

Which. Rude.

Tony might not have received the care a child should have, but Jarvis and Ana had tried their best where his parents didn't. And despite popular opinions, Tony did in fact care about people. So with a delirious team, Tony ignored the ache in his chest- when did he ever not?- and readied himself for his hardest task yet.

He turns, finding them all still staring at where the two magicians had been with squinted eyes, and sighs.

"JARVIS, lockdown as secretly as possible please. I need these guys contained until this is over." He's glad for his earpiece, talking practically under his breath, to keep the gathered heroes from hearing his order. "And some scans would be great, need to know what i'm working with."

"Of course, sir."

"You know Cap, I'm just exhausted, can we do our briefing in the living room?" Tony bats his eyes as if the Soldier can actually comprehend it.

"Uh," his voice is raspy and he coughs like a dying frog, "sure. Living room…"

It gets everyone moving, however unsteady it is, Tony brushes from one to another for every sway that's a little too far, keeping everyone on their feet until they can crash onto the nearest soft surface. Or the floor as Bruce so elegantly flops. Shaking his head, he makes his way around, almost too easily removing shoes and draping blankets. He's beginning to think this may be easier than he thought-

Bruce sneezes, tints green and grows several sizes, breaking the table behind him, before sniffing and returning to a slightly paler version of himself.

"Bless you." Steve mutters, arm thrown over his eyes as his open mouth breathing wheezes in and out of his chest.

Natasha grumbles, burrowed into Hawkeyes side, face ashen and eyes squeezed closed, she shivers and shifts closer to the archer. Clint, to his credit, does not push her away, despite the sweat clinging to him and red tint to his cheeks.

Thor is completely out, mouth open wide as he snores around a congested nose. He- like his brother and Strange- was better off, but for a guy who'd never had an Earth sickness- if any, Tony wouldn't know- itd be best to watch him too. If Bruce was breaking things, Thor would too no doubt.

"JARVIS, lower the lighting level a bit, and play something quiet on TV, I'm gonna make some soup." He supposed he should just be glad it wasn't every Avenger, but it was going to be a long day.

He rubs at his chest, joints protesting his movements, and clears his throat to avoid coughing.

He could do this…

"Steve, I swear to all things, if you do not stop I will have Hulk sit on you."

He shifts the bowl of cool water so he can use a finger to push Cap back down on the couch turned bed. The super soldier goes down with little actual resistance, despite the fact he looks like he very much wants to resist. He's had to force most of them to sit still at least once, Natasha was fine so long as she was against someone warm, Clint wouldn't move if Natasha was resting on him, but had tried to fly when she'd curled into Steve. Bruce's brain still had a million tabs open, but he was also a little worried about the Hulk. The Hulk for his part, was miserable too and just wanted to watch TV one way or another so Tony was less worried about him than Bruce despite the broken table he'd had to clean up. And Thor had also tried to fly, but smacked himself in the face with Mjolnir and promptly fallen into a side table to take another nap… hopefully.

Once he's sure Steve is down for awhile longer, he goes back to his task of pressing cold compresses to heated heads. His hands shake more than usual, but like everything else, he ignores it as he dodges a smack from the red head before pressing the cloth to her neck and tucking the blankets in tighter to appease her.

Task accomplished, he turns to check on the soup when a whimper- high and sudden- hits his ears. He turns- a little too fast, his head spins with the motion- to find Hawkeye sitting up, one hand on his stomach, the other over his mouth, and wide eyes looking up at Tony.

"I don't feel so good." He utters it a second before he's leaning over the edge of the couch bed and puking whatever the archer had eaten today.

Tony sidesteps the mess to get to the heaving blond, placing a hand on his back and finding the compress to wipe at his face gently.

"It's okay, breathe. You're okay." Cleaning the cloth in the bowl he helps Clint lay back down, Natasha curling into his side again, and sighs in relief as he relaxes.

He coughs into his elbow until he can't breathe and he worries about either adding to the mess or falling into it. The comm in his ear beeps steadily, sudden enough to get a breath in, and get the spots to stop dancing in his vision.

"Thanks Jar."

"I have re-" "I've found-"

"I really don't care who does it, just fix them." Tony waves at the miserably slumbering heroes as he makes his way towards the elevator. He had far too many things to catch up on to stay around for the aftermath of everything. He rubs at his chest as he leans heavily against the wall, waiting for the doors to open.

"Tony, are you alright?" Strange's voice sounds far away.

"Fine, there's soup if you guys are hungry." His voice croaks a bit, but he knows if he clears it he'll cough.

"I believe we should use the spell on you as well." Loki's drawl spins around his ears.

"S'not the spell. I'll be fine. Just comes and goes," he waves his hand like he can wave the problem away, "like the strength in your bones. Iron bends under heat and stuff… whatever dad said." Hes mumbling by the end, not really caring what comes from his mouth or who hears. "Jar… where's the 'vator?"

"Running slow sir, my apologies."

"Tony-"

"Sir you're-!"

"TONY!"

"....infection in his lungs…"

"...the arc reactor…"

"...pneumonia…"

"...need to flush out the cavity…"

"...irritated and swollen, the arc is…"

"...spell…"

Tony's chest feels heavy, his arms tingle, his head aches and eye twitches, there's a dull pain throbbing throughout his body…

So everythings normal.

But then… why doesn't he remember going to bed, and not his bed in the lab but like a bed bed.

Shit! The team!

He sits up quick enough to throw his head for a loop, and to startle the bodies surrounding him. He stares with wide eyes at a room full of heroes, several of which are in web hammocks strung from the ceiling. Dozens of eyes stare back, and he wonders if he missed something he shouldn't have.

"Are we dead?"

The collective sigh tells him they aren't, but that there's a lecture in his future.

#whumptober 2023 #no.13 #“it comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”#lyric #cold compress #infection #“I dont feel so good.”#Avengers #fic #sick characters #puking tw #Tony is mom friend #tony angst #ish #the avengers get magic sick #ambiguous timeline

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blueprint-han · 1 year

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3 am pukes are not fun

#gosh I've vommitted thrice since 3 am and its about to be 6 am now #when is it gonna stop pls 😭#i get it ill never eat out again just pls </3 #dawn.txt #tbd #vomitting tw #vomit tw #puking tw #puke tw

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thedeepweb · 2 years

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Puked at 3am nad now leav8ng the house without breakfast im going to die

#Puking tw

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bamsara · 2 months

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Part 2 to this comic

What happened in Darkwood in the meantime?? Dont worry about it

#trod au #the rehabilitation of death #leshycat #leshy x yellow cat #narilamb #doodles #tw puke mention #cult of the lamb

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zalmeter · 1 year

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god keeps giving me the hardest battles i had to call my mom to pick me up from the city bc i felt like throwing up from my period AUGH

#period mention #puking tw #tw puking mention #i feel like shit

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counselorchanel · 1 year

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Honestly, so many things should have tipped her off towards her current state. The sudden ill spells she fell under, the random cravings, the weight gain, the aversions to things she used to love, how drained she felt, the signs were all screaming at her from the start.

Maybe she was in denial? Sure, she could have easily passed off her uniform becoming snug towards her just being in her 20s and no longer having the metabolism of a teenager that’d allow her to lose weight as quickly as she gained it.

And sure, maybe the cravings were her palette changing over the years, or even just one of the many quirks that came with lycanthropy.

And her feeling tired? Well, she was up late at night feeling ill, of course she’d be drained by the morning!

But what really set her off was that night, the night before the full moon, when her lycantrhopin levels should have been so high she would have transformed in the middle of the night.

But... She didn’t.

She waited and waited for the change to begin, figuring maybe it was just taking it’s time that night? But before she knew it, morning came, and she started questioning if she maybe got the dates wrong?

But the next night, same thing, nothing.

Panic arose within her, werewolves such as herself always transform under the full moon!

That is, unless.

No, it couldn’t be.

A quick stop to the local convenience store, just to be sure.

Surely she couldn’t be pregnant, that was just plain silly.

Sure, she and her partner, Fin, were active here and there, but it wasn’t like they could have a baby together... Right?

She hoped not, she pratically prayed not as she approached the checkout line.

“This will be a useless purchase,” she thinks to herself as the cashier scans the test. She gives her a glance, she recognizes Chanel as a local, and the blonde gulps.

She sits in her car in the parking lot, staring at the loot in the plastic bag. She’s unable to drive just yet, thoughts running through her mind at full speed.

This is rediculous, no way could she be a mom! She didn’t even want kids (at least, not yet? Maybe?)

A pit forms in her stomach, she feel like she could puke again, this didn’t feel real to her, but it also felt too real to her.

Hands tightening their grip on the steering wheel, she thinks to herself. What would everyone think if she was pregnant? What would Fin think? What would her sister think?

Oh, fuck, what would her PARENTS think?

Tears prick the corners of her eyes, and she tries to swallow a sorrow filled gasp, she’s too young to be a mom! Well, her sister was a mom, little Parker would be turning 2 in just a few weeks now, but Chanel and Octavia are totally different!

Octavia has a house, she has a husband, she has a CAREER.

Chanel just had a little townhouse in the city, and for the summer she lived in a fucking BOMB SHELTER. What kind of a mother lives in a bomb shelter during her summer job?

Oh god, the idea of lugging around a huge gut for the summer while working with a bunch of judgmental kids... It would be absolute HELL.

Gwen was pregnant, about 4 months to be specific, she’d be going through that, how could she be going through that? And WILLINGLY?

But the thought that Chanel might not be alone through this brought some comfort for her. She peers down to her stomach, a slight pudge that she finally noticed, and she’s not quite sure what she’s feeling at the moment.

Now she’s parked in the Camp Campbell parking lot, a few other cars that belonged to her coworkers were parked next to her, but sat empty. Everyone else was somewhere on the campgrounds, training and preparing for the next few months of work.

This year was going to be special for sure, Elise was finally a full-fledged counselor, Gwen was pregnant, and maybe Chanel was, too?

She couldn’t quite bring herself to leave her car just yet, the bag with the test sat in her passenger seat, staring cruely back at her. A stupid piece of plastic was going to determine her future after she peed on it, how glorius.

She was honestly hesitating on taking it, as if waiting would change her results. God, this was so stressful, how did Octavia do it? How did GWEN do it? They were making it look easy, accepting their fates as mothers like it wasn’t going to change who they were entirely.

The idea of motherhood was rarely a consideration for Chanel, to her, she always saw it as pawning off your freedom as a woman to appease the status quo.

But, it wasn’t like her friends weren’t themselves anymore. They were themselves... With a kid (or a soon-to-be-kid)

And it wasn’t like Chanel HAD to lose herself completely. She could totally be a rockin’ mom to a baby who was half werewolf, half shellycoat. There’s probably a book about that, right?

But it wasn’t like she was pregnant, she didn’t know that, and she might not find out if she doesn’t leave the damn car and take that stupid test already.

Locking herself in the outhouse closest to her bunker, the hardest part began, waiting.

She leans against the wall in the tight space, the tests all waiting on the wooden platform as the results took their sweet time.

To pass the time, she writes out a potential “so, this is happening” draft to send to Fin, just in case. She hopefully didn’t need it, maybe all of this was just a waste of time, and the ending result would have her giggling to herself.

A werewolf and a shellycoat don’t quite mix, and how would they even make a baby, huh? It was totally unrealistic, a silly little idea that would be passed off in a minute or so.

Typing, deleting, rephrasing, thinking, so much thought into something she’d hopefully have to delete soon. Maybe a simple “we should talk” would suffice? This was probably something she should tell them in person, anyways.

Well, maybe not “we should talk,” that would sound like she wanted to break up with them!

...BUT WHAT IF THEY WANTED TO BREAK UP WITH HER?

A BABY?? THEY’RE ONLY DATING, THEY HAVEN’T EVEN CONSIDERED MARRIAGE AT THIS POINT!

What if they thought she cheated on them? I mean, Chanel knows she hasn’t cheated, that ain’t her style! But would Fin HONESTLY believe she’d get pregnant by them? BULLSHIT.

Now hyperventilating, the small space suddenly feels like it’s closing in on her, she feels so frantic, time’s moving so slowly. She could vomit, she might ACTUALLY vomit.

She wants to runaway from the damn outhouse, hop into her car, and drive as far away from that test as she can. She and Fin had been dating for years, now! If they weren’t gonna get married (since they’re a totally chill and laid-back kinda couple), how could she expect to be parenting with them?

Her hands shake, her knees buckle, cold sweat beads down her forehead and back, her face flushes, she’s a wreck, and all over a piece of plastic that’s taking it’s sweet time.

Part of her wants to cry out for help, maybe somebody was nearby? No, stupid.

Maybe she could call her sister, she’d know what to do, she’s done this before, she’d be her best bet.

Before she can dial, the alarm on her phone goes off, and her vision almost blurs.

The tests are ready.

With shaking hands, she pockets her phone and inches her way towards the tests. She picked up a few brands, not sure which one was more reliable. Lines? Crosses? Words? Colors? Who knew, there were so many choices to chose from.

She picked up the first one, and her stomach SANK.

Positive.

The next one, positive.

All of the others, some fainter, some stronger, in all way read positive.

She was going to be sick, she felt the familiar sting of vomit hit the back of her throat, and she leaned into the toilet and let loose.

This HAD to be a joke, a prank! Could she have picked up prank tests somehow? Nowhere on the box hinted towards them being joke tests, who would joke about this? Chanel surely wouldn’t!

By habit, she grabs her stomach, and once she realizes ‘oh, yeah, there’s a BABY in there!’, she throws it off.

She looked down at herself, she all of a sudden felt MASSIVE, her hips never felt so wide, her chest felt heavy (was it with panic, or maybe breast milk? who knew!), that innocent pudge now being a source of grief for her.

Oh God. Oh God, oh God, OH GOD.

This was it! The end of the best years of her life, down the toilet! Just like the puke, with even more to come apparently!

She could feel fur sprouting as the base of her neck, a habit of stress and distraught that was common from her being a werewolf. She needed to hurry up and calm down, or else she would transform and probably go on a murder rampage (if she could even transform now, that is), but she was smart enough not to risk it.

As tears fell from her cheeks, she grabs all of the tests and tosses them back in the plastic bag. She wanted to throw it all away, but she couldn’t, not yet. She needed those, maybe Fin would show mercy? Who knew, she didn’t, but somebody probably does.

Racing off to her bunker, she avoids everyone in her path, they didn’t need to know she was crying, they didn’t need to know she was with child. She just needed to be alone for a bit, that’s all.

unbeknownst to her, thanks to how fast she was running, a test slipped out of the bag and onto the floor, left behind in the outhouse.

#pregnancy tw #writing #ic #long post #vomit tw #puking tw #panic attack tw

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