#cw: throwing up mention

[ansicred]

open your eyes | platonic hurt-comfort/angst

Art's in some serious trouble, Frank helps him out. setting: A hotel room, half-way through Black Dogs Tour, in June 1985 characters involved: Frank & Art (featuring James). warnings: tw: overdose (implied) , cw: mention of vomit, cw: mention of throwing up

[whump-in-the-closet]

when a living weapon whumpee only takes orders from ONE person. They’ve been conditioned to ignore everyone else’s orders. This means that after rescue, the team can barely get whumpee to drink or allow them bandage their injuries. One of the teammates manages to imitate whumpee’s handler by deepening their voice.

They stay out of whumpee’s line of sight, standing behind their hospital bed. “Drink this,” they snap, hating how they have to command this broad-shouldered ghost of a person. Without their armor, without their mask, whumpee looks like a wraith. There’s nothing behind their eyes. They play with the hospital blanket with twitching hands that have strangled and maimed.

When whumpee hears the order they stiffen to attention and take the cup offered with those still-shaking hands. But the cup slips through their fingers and lands in a puddle on the tiles.

They immediately tense up, shoulder blades flung so far back they touch. Their breathing quickens, waiting.

But nothing happens.

They give whumpee a new glass of cold water. This time, they lift the cup to whumpee’s lips and hold it steady, with one hand behind their head for support.

[mayasaura]

It's not an accident that John is an indigenous man. It's not an accident that he's implied to be a survivor of childhood sexual assault. It's not an accident that he's clearly mentally ill, with no support network outside his colleagues who are relying on him to save the world.

John, as a character, is about how much pressure and how much suffering a person can endure before they break. He's about the weight of generational trauma. He's about having a meltdown that destroys your life, that hurts people, that you can never really come back from, and having to live with the consequences. His rage and his pain are both massive and legitimate, and if you don't engage with that you are missing the fucking point. Respectfully.

This post is not rebloggable to make sure I don't go nuke melbourne myself. Love and peace. ✌️

[gingermintpepper]

So, one of the most interesting things that's come from my recent exercises in writing the Olympians as young deities is all of the very fun and somewhat painful conversations that come from the young deities acquiring and consequently settling into their domains.

Apollo and Artemis especially have been really fascinating under the microscope. They start off identically, with extremely similar interests and similar domains over the hunt and wilderness. They spend their days under the stars and foraging for fruit and dancing and singing in the fields, two rustic god-children exploring and learning together. Then Apollo goes off on his own to slay Python.

Now, a lot of things change when Apollo kills Python. That is the act which transforms the bow from a tool of survival and sport to an instrument of murder, bloodshed and ultimately war. It is Apollo's first act of wrath which separates him from Artemis - both spiritually because she has not yet shed blood herself as a goddess and physically because it leads to his exile. Most importantly however, the slaying of Python is the act that grants Apollo his knowledge.

If violence is what first separates Apollo from Artemis then it is knowledge which keeps them apart.

This can refer to a lot of things; that Artemis continued to be at home with the wild beasts of the forests and mountains while Apollo grew to prefer the domesticated sheep and cattle, that Artemis continued to avoid mortals while Apollo grew to know their ways and endeavoured to teach them more. The point that has been the most interesting to me however has been Artemis, who remains free of slaughter, and thus remains pure and Apollo, who becomes acutely and entirely too aware of it, and thus must be constantly purified.

Apollo's infatuation with medicine specifically is the place where this becomes most apparent. When he leaves for his exile to travel as a mortal, without nectar or ambrosia, without power, Apollo is without the privileges of the divine for the very first time. He sweats, he smells, he grows weary when he travels, he grows hungry and thirsty. He experiences fatigue and nausea, the fever of sickness, the chill of infection, the delirium of poison. The blood Apollo shed does not only make him impure spiritually, it strips him of the purity of his birth and station. Likewise, medicine is not a divine practice. What use do the unkillable immortals have for something as finicky as medicine when they have nectar and ambrosia? Apollo however, knows of the pains of the flesh and the suffering of the mortal coil. He pursues medicine in all its horrors and difficulties because of the knowledge he gained with blood.

Artemis then, cannot understand the medical Apollo. When her brother returns possessed by this spectre of ill-gained knowledge, she does not recognise him. Who is this boy who scores the deer and studies the shape of their intestines before he cooks them? What good is there in rescuing a chick with a broken wing? The Apollo-of-the-Wild in her memories would have done the correct thing and left the thing for dead - let the forest take what is its due. Who is this Apollo whose hands are always stained to the wrist in the blood and gore of the living? What is his fascination with the mechanics of mortal bodies? Artemis does not know and Apollo does not tell her.

That has, by far, been my favourite effect of the whole Python watershed moment to explore recently.

[electrosweaters-arts]

Thinkin about cc Jekyll's childhood cat who haunts the narrative (he will never love another pet again)

They did not allow that 6 year old to properly grieve the loss of his little old man cat who loved him. This action will have consequences

[anonymouslymadebydesign]

Whump Month, Day 2 : Hiding an illness / injury

Whump Month by @cirrus-ghoulette 💕

CW : Mentions of throwing up / actively being sick. Slight hint as self isolation.

Summary : Phantom can't keep anything down and keeps it to himself rather than seeking help.

Word Count : 789

Being Topside was strange, to put it lightly. Everything about this strange place and its demands always made Phantom feel...out of place. Ostracized, if he could put a word that closely resembled the hollowed feeling in his chest.

The worst part, decidedly, was having a corporeal body. In Hell, and its endless vastness, he didn't need a body. Quintessential ghouls were more akin to spirits, ebbing and flowing, traveling where ever they pleased. Being summoned to different locations in Hell was as simple as breathing, but to be summoned to Earth?

It was like shoving the universe and its infinite vastness into a compact cube.

The first few weeks were fine, rocky, but fine. So many changes going on at once, so many things to get used to, so many eyes to try and decipher if that glint was hate or worry; Phantom couldn't tell.

What he could tell was that it probably wasn't a good thing his head was halfway down his bathroom toilet. Dinner just wrapped up, the sun slowly setting behind the Abbey, saying its goodbyes like the contents of his stomach. It's been like this for a few days down, and his body was not enjoying a minute of it, his eyes sunken and tired from constantly being sick.

"Phantom?" There was a voice at his door. From where he was he couldn't quite tell who it was.

"Ah...hold on!" He shouted from his bathroom, flushing his dinner and rinsing his mouth out with sink water before going to the door. Before opening it, he smoothed down his shirt and ran a hand through his hair; a lame attempt at looking put together.

When he finally opened the door, he was face to face with Rain. He liked Rain, the water ghoul was sweet and welcoming, one of the few who seemed to welcome him to the world and to the pack with open arms.

"Were you...throwing up?" Rain asked, blunt but hesitant, a clear line of worry on his face.

"No." Phantom shook his head, purposely keeping his eyes wide and round, open, innocent. Lying. He tilted his head slightly, his tail swaying slightly as if he were relaxed.

Rain gave him a little frown, as if he didn't believe the little quint.

"Are you sure?" Was the question.

A laugh, followed by; "I would remember if I tossed tonight's dinner."

Rain relaxed a little, barely, his shoulders slouching. "If you're ever feeling ill, I don't know if anyone's told you, but we have a Ghoul Infirmary. It's ran by Omega and Aether, they'll always be there to help and heal."

Aether. The name tasted like iron in Phantoms mouth. While he was new to the surface and still was learning about the world and everything it offers, he wasn't dumb. He was smart enough to know that his current...'pack'...was upset that their previous member, Aether, decided to stay behind.

"Of course." Phantom smiled, his signature goofy smile, all teeth. He was fine. He was fine, goddammit, so leave it alone. Leave it the FUCK ALONE-

"We love you." Came Rains voice, cutting through his thoughts.

"Thank you, Rain." Phantom smiled, a little more genuine, visibly relaxing. This seemed to satiate Rain enough, as he patted the quint on the shoulder and waved as he walked down the hallway.

Phantom sighed, closing his door and locking it, moving to his bed to sit down. He wasn't sure what was wrong with his body. He was hungry, that was for sure, as the hunger pains in his stomach were currently screaming for his attention, to be satiated.

But he knew that every time he attempted to get something down, within the hour his body decided that that was a bad idea, and had him back at square one, with his head halfway down the toilet.

Deciding that he wasn't willing to go back out, not wanting to see the look of distain or disgust in his packmates, he curled back up into his bed.

No one had to know. It was probably a weird strange sickness that would go away on its own, right? Right. Of course, it was just a passing phase, nothing more.

No one needed to know how in the dead of night, he hurled his body out of bed, scrambling on all fours to get to his bathroom, throwing up the very little remains of his stomach.

No one needed to know how the burn of stomach acid in his throat and mouth had him crying into the bowl, sobbing as his body dry heaved against his will.

No one needed to know how incredibly lightheaded it made him either.

No one needed to know, goddammit.

[idiot-mushroom]

was going through it last week

[lynaferns]

Is having a feeling of wanting to throw up after drinking water a symptom of dehydration?

Context: I spent the last 4-6 hours in my room, window and door closed because of noise (my father), and the fact that there is a literal oven room under my floor. So yeah, my room in constant 30°C with no air flow (except for the ceiling fan moving the air inside my room).

I realized that I haven't drank any water in a while, and even though I didn't really feel thirsty I still had a headache, which usually means I need water.

Now I have a headache and a twisted stomach.

[a-dog-with-different-paws]

I feel like I'm going to throw up :( I looked at something, uh, not good-

Tumblr needs to really get rid of these bots :/

Especially because I was just looking through a very VERY unrelated tag 😭 (#therian) (like what)

[maxphilippa]

uh. vent art. or something. losing yourself and losing everyone who you cared about as a result

[blipblepbloop]

ok i’m dying to know what ur realism gripe is about the body that you mentioned in the tags of your reblog of my post about it

BAHAHA ty for noticing my commentary hidden in the tags so i can make this rant post about it lmao

first off, im aware its a tv show and some things need to be dramatized or exaggerated for the purpose of achieving a certain effect in the show. especially in an episode like the body, a lot of choices went into very intentionally setting a tone for the episode. however, that being said-

towards the very beginning of the episode, buffy calls 911 and a couple of paramedics show up. they tell her that her MOM is DEAD, get another call, and UP AND LEAVE. and in real life they would absolutely NEVER FUCKING DO THAT and it drives me INSANE every time i rewatch it.

take this with a grain of salt because the extent of my medical knowledge is first aid and lifeguard training, but according to everything ive ever been taught about BASIC FIRST AID they absolutely should not have left her alone, because they weren't done treating every patient on that scene. buffy is quite VISIBLY in shock, which requires treatment just as much as a physical injury. yet all they do is tell her to sit down, ask her if there's anyone else coming, and then leave. like they don't even at least make sure she's sitting down or confirm in some way that somebody's coming before just leaving. maybe protocols and training with that sort of thing was different at the time that the ep came out, but i kind of doubt it. she could have fainted, she DOES throw up, and just...who actually thinks its a good idea to just leave someone whose mother just died and is clearly in shock completely alone?? certainly not trained medical professionals.

again, i could potentially be wrong about this, and im also fully aware it was for that dramatic intense effect the audience gets from her being left completely alone to deal with the fact her mom just died, but today at least that definitely is not how that would go down. at least one of the paramedics would have stayed behind and talked with her and made sure she was okay at least until giles got there. and it mostly just makes me upset for buffy because she should not have been treated like that lol.

[xylophone888]

personal opinion post: if i EVER have to see an another post unironically insinuating that rincewind has a potato fetish i will boil my neighbors

[art-by-fate]

Heel turn 2 - by the Mountain Goats

I’m still insane about stuffed bird by the way. In case anyone was wondering.

(@theminecraftbee)

[tomkittycat]

does anyone else feel physically sick when they think about how they have school the next day? like. i literally threw up because i was thinking about how i have to go back to school. what the flip

[that-starry-freak]

Thinking about Nexus and Eclipse dates, and how they're both kind of edgy and stupid <3

Like them going to a club and drinking a lot and laughing and dancing nad being idiots, and then Nexus feels sick so Eclipse holds his hat back for it while he throws up. And they go home after and drunkenly get ready for bed and cuddle and pass out

Or them staying home and just sitting outside, sharing a smoke and leaning against each other and talking for hours. And they get to low battery and the atmosphere just had such a lulling, soothing affect, and they just can't stop talking, spiling so much. Nexus taking Eclipse's hand at some point and smoothing his thumbs over it, and Eclipse barely notices. Neither of them even know when he did it.

Neidnjdnsjs

[neurosky]

I had a small win over ARFID and OCD today!!

So, a little backstory for this to make sense, ARFID causes me to be extremely picky with foods out of fear of throwing up, to the point where I eat the same things every day, and have been my whole life. My OCD makes me worry about throwing up as well, but that makes me do or avoid certain things in order to not throw up.

I really wanted caesar salad earlier, and the only salad kit we had had a "guaranteed fresh" date for about a week ago. Usually, I just wouldn't eat it, but this time I decided that I really wanted this salad, and the lettuce still looked fine. So, I pushed past the thoughts of "What if I throw up? What if it's bad?" and I ate it anyway! And it was a really fucking good salad!!