#Bowl Of Diarrhea

[2tonestarot]

Ron (Tiny D Pudding Fingers) DeSantis

In this Episode of 2 Tone’s Twisted Tarot Tales, Republican Governor, Ron (Tiny D Pudding Fingers) DeSantis’ Past, Present and Future is discussed. Subscribe on YouTube Today to Win a FREE Book! For every 100 YouTube Subscribers, there will be a Contest and the Winner will get mailed to them a Free Book!

[lottieurl]

extremely extremely worried about my dog :(

[yourfriendlyneighborhoodsloth]

People have many different options about the "worst" part about getting older, but the actual worst thing is that you can't eat whatever you want without suffering from the digestive consequences

[barbie-necromancer]

fuuuck this ARFID+ relapse thoooo

[i-am-a-hog]

Existing in bavaria rn lets you immediately know the worth of people based on whether they continue to wear a mask on public transport or not, now that it's no longer mandatory.

[skilasophia]

The Ozempic Bar

100% dark chocolate Tastes like ass; Makes me shit out my ass Constantly, so much I

Can't move from the toilet seat Because there's so much Sludge splattering in the water, Ricocheting onto the sides, Sticking there indefinitely until

My dude friends' piss removes my Body's grime, or when I clean my Studio before my girlfriend stays The night (or when I can't sleep)

Wouldn't recommended the snack to Anyone, except if their dying wish is to Die while having a squeaky clean colon.

[holydramon]

Percy’s sick. I don’t know what to do.

[karmaphone]

babygirl you are so idiot

[david-box]

I did a good thing today everyone clap right fucking now

[uwooyoungs]

//

[suiana]

imagine being someone who has diarrhea and constipation regularly so you lock yourself in the toilet to fight yet another war with the toilet bowl again...

except your yandere! friend doesn't know that so he's always worried when you disappear for hours at a time.

he's calling, spamming, and texting. but you're not picking up or responding. he can't help but feel sick, bile rising up his throat at the thought that someone hurt you. or worse, you're hanging out with someone. someone who's not him.

so he breaks into your house (but is it really breaking in if he's just doing it to check up on you?), searches all over for any traces of you... only to be absolutely horrified as you let out a screech of pain from the toilet.

he's immediately picking at the lock of the toilet door, sweat lining his forehead as he works nervously on the lock. only... to feel like he's ascended to a higher plane the second the door opens.

there you are, fighting for your life on the toilet bowl, and the stench is unbearable.

"y-you?! why are you here- ARGH I CAN FEEL A BIG ONE COMING!"

"i-i'm sorry oh- *faints*"

yeah he's never breaking into your toilet again.

[the--evil-lesbian]

I need tumblr to help me with a philisophical dilemma here. I want you all to really ponder. Say there is a great ruler. Say this ruler really loves them spicy microwave noodle bowls, but they give him actually mind blowing diarrhea. Is continuing to purchase said noodles an act of self love or self loathing, and should his willingness to continue consuming them be considered a fortitude or surrender?

[wolfchanw]

Frogs and Bunny 5 week update: These kids are HUGE. Like....Frogs is almost at the minimum weight the shelter performs spays/neuters already! (He's not going to be put through surgery at 5 weeks old, he's just theoretically big enough.)

They're also more and more obviously long-haired kittens every day. Long ear tufties, smelly dingleberries, the works. No interest in eating food from a bowl yet, but they ARE both still latching, so that's a plus. The expected diarrhea has also reared its head, so we're headed back to the vet tomorrow.

My spouse says these kittens are just lemons, as they have been at the vet every week since their birth. I say they're getting all of their vet visits out of the way now so they can grow up big and robust!

[loveriotss]

"stay still." you mutter, squishing his cheeks softly with your non dominant hand to prevent him from moving his face again. you ignore the glare that is being sent to you as you dip your brush into the green mixture, carefully applying it on his skin. "you're assaulting my face." he sneers, trying to sound intimidating but fails miserably as his voice sounds silly because of how your fingers have molded his face into what looks like a pufferfish. you giggle, applying the face mask smoothly against his skin, being careful as to not accidentally get it into his hair because you are not ready for the way he'd explode if his hair got 'ruined' by 'shrek's diarrhea' (his name for the wonderful face mask prepared by you). "it's for your own good, it will help unclog your pores!" you say, adjusting yourself on his lap as he rolls his eyes and mindlessly draws shapes on the sides of your waist. "i don't need this shit, my skin is flawless." he says confidently which causes you to roll your eyes. "yes yes, you have the most amazing skin and i'm soo jealous." you reply, shaking your head as you see a shit eating smirk grow on his face. you place your brush back into the bowl, grabbing a few tissues as you put on your best sad face. "if you don't want this, i'll wipe it off right now. i'm just gonna let you know, this thing works crazy good and makes your skin glow. but i understand if you think you're better off without this . . ." you say, sighing dramatically and bringing the tissue closer to his face. his eyes widen at your words and he quickly grabs your wrist. "well then . . . you better apply this shit well!" he huffs, tossing the tissues away and handing your brush back to you and once again rests his hands on your waist, drawing squiggly lines now. you smile in victory, grinning as you continue your spa treatment on his face.

katsuki bakugo, ryomen sukuna, inosuke hashibara + your favs . . .

NOTE — just a silly thing that was on my mind :3 anyways first drabbleish post yay!

©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. please don’t try to copy/steal my work. please do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.

[mxlktxa]

shameless plug, tlou masterlist - quick reads/rambles

𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘴; @jinxtheplanet @solaceocean

an; just to have a little something something while i work on two something somethings ;)

“abby, no! that is raw cookie dough, stop fucking eating it!”

“its so good though!”

“youre gonna get sick, you big dummy! do you know how serious salmonella is?!”

“not serious enough to stop me!”

“abigail-fucking-anderson!”

you chased after the huge set of muscles, throwing a spoon at her as she ran off with a bit more of the cookie dough from the mixing bowl. the bowl you were trying to hide from her to bake her some of your delicious vanilla sugar cookies alongside a large coconut cream pie, abbys favorite treat you make for the anniversary you both loved to celebrate. the blonde managed to sneak into the house while you were preoccupied with your phone and began scooping small servings of the raw mixture into her mouth.

“abby, seriously, stop it! you’re gonna get sick!” you began to soften your voice, too worried to be angry any longer, “i dont want you to be in the hospital for this, abs. its so stupid.”

abby turned to you as her smile faltered due to your behavior change, “hey, baby look, im sorry, okay. i couldnt help myself. i love when you make those sugar cookies,” both hands were on the sides of your face, kissing your forehead, “and that coconut pie? dont even get me started. oh! and your muffins and sweet bread are heaven sent.”

you giggled, hiding your smile as abby seemed to be going nuts over your baking skills. soon you both calmed down, now settling for a nice hug to give you comfort. abby placed plenty of apologetic kisses on your head, swaying you back and forth.

“i give it six hours before a fever starts to kick it.”

“huh?” the dirty blonde questioned.

“then youll shit yourself because youve got diarrhea, possibly start vomiting.”

“wait, what?!”

“youll be in pain as well. just some abdominal pain, of course,” you turned away from abby, leaving her to silently panic at what you just said, “im just fucking with you but it is gonna be bad. now, stop eating anything thats raw.” you sighed, walking back to the kitchen to start prepping the baking sheet.

“does that include you?” abby questioned, a small smirk on her face.

the comment flew over your head as you placed your focus on the task at hand. slowly your brain started obsessing with what she said, piecing together what she meant. your head slowly rose, eyes filled with annoyance while abby held back a chuckle, “you slut! stop being so nasty!” and with that you threw the whisk at her, having to chase her down once more since she started eating the remains of the raw mixture from the tool.

[maybe-im-dark]

Broken pieces fit together

Based on this post:

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The apartment was dark when Logan stepped inside, the only light coming from the flickering TV casting eerie shadows across the room. He kicked off his boots, letting out a tired sigh as he made his way down the hallway, ready to collapse onto the couch and drown out the day’s events with a cold beer. But as he entered the living room, he stopped short, his eyes narrowing at the sight before him.

Wade was curled up on the couch, his body hunched over as if trying to make himself as small as possible. He was hugging himself tightly, his shoulders trembling, and Logan could hear the faint, pained whimpers slipping through his clenched teeth. It was a sound Logan had heard before, a sound that meant Wade was fighting a battle no one else could see.

“Wade?” Logan’s voice was low, careful, as he approached.

Wade didn’t answer, just squeezed his eyes shut tighter, his fingers digging into his own skin. Logan’s heart clenched at the sight. He knew the healing factor kept Wade alive, but it didn’t erase the pain. The tumors were still there, festering under the surface, twisting and burning and aching even as they were kept at bay.

Logan moved closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

“Hey,” he said softly, sitting down beside Wade on the couch. “What’s goin’ on?”

For a moment, Wade didn’t respond, just stayed curled up, breathing through the pain. Logan could see the tension in his jaw, the way his muscles were taut, like he was trying to hold himself together through sheer willpower. And Logan understood that. God, did he understand that.

He reached out, his hand hovering for a second before he gently placed it on Wade’s back, rubbing slow, soothing circles. Wade flinched at the touch, but he didn’t pull away.

Logan continued, his touch firm but gentle, grounding. “It’s alright. I’m here.”

Wade let out a shuddering breath, his body slowly relaxing, just a bit, into Logan’s touch. He still didn’t speak, but that was okay. Logan wasn’t expecting him to. Sometimes, there weren’t any words for this kind of pain.

Logan didn’t say anything more. He just wrapped his arm around Wade, pulling him close, letting Wade’s head rest against his chest. Wade’s breaths were shaky, uneven, and Logan could feel the tremors running through his body, the way his fingers gripped at Logan’s shirt like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.

They sat there, in the darkened room, with the TV flickering quietly in the background. Logan held Wade, his hand moving slowly up and down his back, trying to ease the pain away. He knew it wouldn’t go away completely—he knew that Wade’s body was a battlefield, just like his own.

Because Logan understood. He knew what it was like to live with pain that never really went away, pain that gnawed at you from the inside, even when the outside looked fine. The adamantium in his bones was unbreakable, but it was also a poison, seeping into his blood, wearing him down day by day. Every breath was a fight against the metal in his veins, against the exhaustion that never fully disappeared.

Heavy metal poisoning, they called it. Like it was something that could be treated with a pill or a shot. But Logan knew better. He’d learned to live with the waves of nausea, the confusion that clouded his mind on a bad day, the way his hands would sometimes shake, his muscles cramping up when he pushed himself too hard. He remembered the days when he felt sick and couldn't keep anything down for more than a few minutes, before his body violently forced it out of him, and he found himself on the toilet bowl, clutching a bucket, vomiting and diarrheaing until he felt like passing out. He knew of the way his body was always hot, his metabolism kicked into overdrive, to compensate for the cold metal inside. Of the painful itch in his throat, that no amount of coughing could ease, before it was gone again. The times when he passed out after exhausting himself in a fight, only to wake up again afterwards, feeling the familiar tingling of his healing factor kicking in, mending his wounds, cursing him to live yet another day full of pain. Stryker might be long gone, but he had made sure he kept being tortured without the needs of needles or a water tank. He was used to it by now, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Wade’s pain was different, but it was the same. They were both fighting battles that no one else could see, and sometimes, just knowing that someone else understood was enough.

Wade’s breathing began to even out, the worst of the pain ebbing away, and Logan kept holding him, kept stroking his back, even when the tremors subsided.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice rough.

Wade let out a small, shaky laugh, the sound barely audible. “Yeah. Just… you know. The usual.”

Logan nodded, his chin resting on top of Wade’s head. “Yeah. I know.”

For a moment, they just sat there, holding onto each other, the silence stretching out between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… understanding.

Wade finally shifted, pulling back just enough to look up at Logan. His eyes were red-rimmed, but there was a glint of humor there, too, a spark of the Wade Logan knew.

“What about you, huh? You’re always playin’ the tough guy, but I know you feel like shit sometimes. More than sometimes.”

Logan huffed, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Takes one to know one, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not fair. I’m the one with the cancer, you’re supposed to be the unbreakable one.” Wade’s voice was teasing, but there was an edge to it, a hint of something deeper.

Logan sighed, his fingers gently brushing over Wade's back. “Ain’t nobody unbreakable, Wade. Not really.”

Wade’s eyes softened, and he reached up, cupping Logan’s face in his hands. “Guess we’re both just a couple of broken pieces, huh?”

Logan nodded, his hand still resting on Wade’s back. “Yeah. But we fit together, don’t we?”

Wade grinned, a real, genuine smile this time, and Logan felt a warmth spread through his chest. “Yeah, we do.”

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, finding comfort in the shared pain, in the quiet understanding that they didn’t have to explain.

Logan’s hand slid down to Wade’s, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he said softly. “You need rest.”

“Only if you come with me,” Wade said, his voice playful but still tired.

Logan nodded, helping Wade to his feet. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

They made their way to the bedroom, and Logan climbed into bed beside Wade, wrapping an arm around him, pulling him close. Wade snuggled against him, his head resting on Logan’s chest, and for the first time that night, Logan felt the tension in his own body start to fade.

They didn’t need words. They just needed each other.

And as they lay there, in the dark, Logan thought about how much strength it took just to keep going, to keep fighting, even when it felt like the world was trying to tear them apart from the inside. He thought about how much strength Wade had, to smile through the pain, to joke even when everything hurt.

And he thought about how much he loved him for it.

Wade’s breathing was slow, steady, the pain finally dulling to a low ache. Logan pressed a kiss to the top of his head, closing his eyes, letting himself drift off.

They’d both wake up tomorrow, and the pain would still be there, but so would they. Together.

And that was enough.