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#tw: throw up
lancerious · 1 year
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Hey guys hey guys guess what
I just threw up like five minutes ago :D
I literally can’t do anything except lie down and waste time on my phone
This is going to be a really fun next few days
Entertain me pls
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greyeyedmonster-18 · 6 months
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(one thing about me, im gonna throw up)
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gonzohiccups · 7 months
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Woke up wondering why I couldn't get warm no matter how many blankets I used.......
My autistic ass didn't read it as the chills until an hour later when I'm running to the bathroom
Me, telling my cat, because I haven't lived with my mom for some time:
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robertsbarbie · 2 years
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me sending a text to my mother to let her know i just threw up 🧍🏼‍♀️
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halfa-failure · 2 months
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What did blud witness
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pixlokita · 4 months
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Page 37 🐻✨
Previous - next - first
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sunshinebunshine22 · 1 year
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I can’t throw up from anxiety, I haven’t digested my anxiety meds yet
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artist-rat · 3 months
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I feel your breath upon my neck / a soft caress as cold as death
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frownyalfred · 2 years
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Alcohol tips for newbie writers (or non drinkers!):
At bars, people who order “chasers” after their shots are ordering something to wash down the taste of their shot with. This can be juice, soda, more alcohol, or even pickle juice
Hard liquor is generally sold in stores as shots (tiny bottles), fifths, liters, and handles or in ml (50, 100, 200 etc)
Most people can’t finish an entire fifth of hard liquor (vodka, etc) on their own without being very ill
Conversely, many people can finish an entire bottle of wine on their own without being ill
Liquor can be “bottom shelf” or “rail” or “well” -- all synonyms for the cheapest version of alcohol a bartender has. Bars generally keep several “levels” of alcohol stocked
You order a drink with the alcohol first, then the mix -- e.g., a “vodka soda” or a “Tito’s and tonic”
When you “close out a tab”, you pay for all of the drinks you’ve had that night. Either the bartender already has your card (you “opened a tab” earlier) or it was quiet enough that they just kept an eye on you and tallied your bill up at the end
“Doubles” are drinks or shots with double the standard pour of alcohol
In the US, most shots (pours) are 1.5 oz by default. 
Mixed drinks (gin and tonic, vodka lemonade, cosmos, etc) are generally made up of 1-2 shots and a mixer 
If you don’t specify which type of alcohol you’d like in a mixed drink (vodka cranberry, for example) the bartender will put whatever the “house” liquor is -- and this depends entirely on the establishment. A dive bar will pour rail by default, whereas a nicer tavern might make all vodka cranberries with Tito’s
PLEASE TIP YOUR BARTENDERS THEY WILL REMEMBER YOU I PROMISE
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hinamie · 2 months
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the same flame that burns you; birthed you first
p1
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{{ I was going to start working on watching an episode of FT and working on response.. I did my usual routine of refreshing my dash and a post has sent me into a panic attack where I feel like I’m going to throw up.
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userfrieren · 5 months
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kenobihater · 3 months
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reblog for a bigger sample size of former angry, creative, and/or highly dramatic children
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stefisdoingthings · 3 days
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silence
also this is from Wolfwood's POV (in case it isn't clear) i have 0 normal thoughts (every song ever is VW)
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halfa-failure · 2 months
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Another thing for dannyversary
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ladykailitha · 5 months
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Staking a Claim Part 2
Hello! We get a resolution to the last cliffhanger and add a second less dire cliffhanger.
I will be posting this on Sundays and Tuesdays until it's completed for a total of six parts. Thursdays will be reserved for whatever story I want to update that week. It might be the soulmate AU, the werewolf AU, or even omega AU. Wednesdays are still for WIP Wednesday.
Part 1
***
Steve woke up with a pressing need to throw up. He sat up in a hurry and looked around. He didn’t recognize his surroundings and didn’t know where to go to empty his guts.
Someone thrust a bucket into his hands and he gratefully puked into it. A warm hand rubbed his back and that person began muttering encouraging inanities.
Finally he was able to stop and he looked up to see who his rescuer was.
“Eddie?” he murmured. “What happened?”
“Hey, babe,” Eddie whispered back. “Don’t worry about that right now. I just need you to keep throwing up whatever’s in your stomach, okay?”
Steve blinked at him a moment before he was forced to vomit again. It came out through his nose as well as his mouth. His nose was raw and his throat wrecked. But he couldn’t stop.
Tears ran down his face as he body continued to reject whatever it was that was causing this.
“That’s right, let it all out.”
Again Steve stopped and he looked up at Eddie mournfully. “I hate this.”
Eddie pulled him into his arms and held him tightly. “You think you can make the short walk to the bathroom?”
Steve nodded and went to go set down the bucket but Eddie stopped him.
“You might want to hold on to that just in case.”
Steve looked at Eddie then back at the bucket. He nodded.
“You hold onto your new friend Mr. Bucket,” Eddie said lightly, “and I’ll hold onto you. Okay?”
Steve nodded again and let Eddie help him to the bathroom. Eddie took the bucket and set it in the bathtub. He opened the toilet seat so if Steve needed to throw up, nothing would impede that and went in search of a spare toothbrush. He didn’t think that any of the guys would want Steve touching theirs and he wasn’t about to let him touch his.
“Eureka!” he whisper shouted. “When you feel up to it, you can use this to brush your teeth.”
Steve stared at him blankly like putting anything in his mouth would be a nightmare right then.
Eddie took a deep breath and held it for a moment. “Right, that’s not important at this moment. Got it. Priorities, Munson. Get it together.”
Tears streamed down Steve’s face and he whispered, “I’m sorry. I tend to ruin everything.” And then promptly began throwing up again. He started to shake as the vomiting and the cold got to him.
Eddie walked out and Steve really began to sob.
Then there was a warm blanket placed around his shoulders. “You didn’t ruin anything, Stevie. I promise I’ll tell you all about it when your well enough to hear it, but it wasn’t your fault.”
Steve sobs became hiccups then the hiccups became sniffles and then Eddie looked down to see that he had fallen asleep.
Eddie rocked him back and forth on the cold bathroom floor, trying hard to not fall in love with this man.
*
When Steve woke up a second time, he was in a cramped bathroom, wrapped in a warm blanket and pressed to Eddie’s side.
Eddie must have felt him stir. “Hey, baby. How you feeling?”
Steve buried his face into Eddie’s neck. “Like I’ve been run over. I didn’t think I drank that much to get this hungover.”
Eddie carded his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Do you still feel like you need to throw up?”
Steve lifted his head as he thought about it. “No. I feel like shit, but not like my guts are going turn themselves inside out.”
“Good,” he said. “I’m glad. Why don’t you take a shower and brush your teeth and I’ll set some clothes for you to change into on the toilet seat, okay?”
Steve nodded.
Eddie helped him to his feet and got the water in the shower started for him.
Steve stripped out of his clothes and got into the shower. He closed the curtain and just let the warm water wash over him. He thought hard about what happened last night.
The only thing he remembered was that he had been having a great time and then nothing. He heard the door open and then close quickly. He peeked around the curtain and saw the clothes on the toilet seat as promised.
Steve relaxed with a sigh. He looked around the shower and was surprised to see how neatly organized it all was. But he didn’t want to take anyone’s shampoo or anything so he just rinsed his hair instead. The body wash on the other hand was something he had to use. He opened each one to smell them, not wanting to grab something that would give him a migraine later.
He settled on the third one. It was woody, like pine. But not super strong or fake smelling. He got to work scrubbing himself down.
Once he no longer felt as though he’d been dragged out of hell by his balls he stepped out of the shower and dried off with the big fluffy towel that was on the hamper.
He dressed in the clothes Eddie had set out for him, complete with underwear. They still had the fold lines and wrinkles fresh from the pack. They were black boxers but then Steve couldn’t really see Eddie wearing anything else.
He slid them on and they were warm and comfortable. Next went the warm sweats and then finally the band shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked and felt like shit. There was nothing for it. He had to go out and face the music.
Or at least Eddie Munson, which as far as Steve was concerned was the same thing.
When he walked out into the main part of the apartment, he could tell it was still early enough that everyone else was in bed, but not so early that it was obscene to be seen awake after a night at the bar.
Steve slid into one of the bar stools at the counter and watched as Eddie made breakfast. Eggs, link sausage, bacon, and hashbrowns.
“That’s a lot,” he murmured. “I’m not sure my stomach is going to appreciate your effort.”
Eddie grinned. “It seems really counter-intuitive, but greasy foods tend fair better on hangovers and upset stomachs. You’d think it’d be the opposite, but nope.”
Steve cocked his head to the side. “Huh, I never would have thought it either.”
“Why don’t you call someone to let them know you’re okay, while I go rouse the boys?” Eddie suggested as he turned all the heat on the stove to low. He nodded to the phone on the wall.
“Robin!” Steve cried. He looked around for a clock for the exact time. “Shit! I was supposed to be at work twenty minutes ago!”
***
Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
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