#toilet gurgle

[blushingblurbs]

“I’m sorry, excuse me, I’ve just… I’ve got to use the bathroom.”

It’s always said with equal parts urgency, embarrassment, and discomfort.

Add in belly rumbles or a hand resting/rubbing the upset tummy. Plus the occasional stifled belch.

The surprised or sympathetic pause and then the “usual” reactions to such a confession.

Usually the sick person blushes, but sometimes they’re so pale they only manage to briefly close their eyes in embarrassment (or to allow a wave of nausea or lower belly pressure pass), only before desperately looking around for the most private, readily available restroom.

[inflateftm]

Plans for today:

Eat the same chinese food that bloated me up and made me go "uh-oh", but this time I'll order TWO menus.

Then I'll eat sugar free gummies,drink some prune juice and if I have enough time,I'll make a cake mix shake.

That combo was suggested by the cutest @cleverprincestudent0897 ✨️

[gardenstateofmind]

i feel like my life is defined by my stomach problems, but i had a whole bunch of tests done and they couldn't find anything actually wrong, it seems to just be ibs. which leaves me wondering if my stomach issues are actually not that big of a deal and i'm just a wimp?

[muiromem]

It should be illegal for my bowels to audibly groan and gurgle like the slow but inevitable sinking of a massive yet ancient sea-faring vessel.

[poprockspillage]

beef stroganoff regret

[wilburmlynch01]

This informative video sheds light on the annoying toilet gurgling sounds many homeowners face. Discover the root causes of these noises, which often stem from blockages or issues in the plumbing vent system. The video offers practical solutions, and easy-to-follow tips for diagnosing and fixing the gurgling sounds yourself, helping you restore peace and quiet to your bathroom. It also emphasizes when to seek professional plumbing assistance to avoid potential complications.  

[emergencyplumbingil]

Clog-Battling Solutions: Emergency Plumbing Here to Save the Day!

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Don't let a clogged drain disrupt your life! Call Emergency Plumbing of Highland Park Illinois today! We'll get your drains flowing freely again, so you can get back to enjoying your Highland Park home.

Phone 224-754-1984

[bumblebaubles]

listening to percy jackson for the first time at 23 years old lil mans was a menace he has nothing but my respect

[mthollowell-writes]

A Gurgle in the Pipes 

The fifth circle of hell was a “HALF OFF ON EVERYTHING” holiday weekend sale day and its sufferers were the staff. 

You couldn’t tell Tommie any different. She just couldn’t figure out what sin she committed other than being working class and desperate. 

After enduring 8 hours of arguing with people who couldn’t read signs and the declarations of mistreatment by customers who waited a minute too long in the checkout lines, she was tired. Bone tired. And all she wanted was a few minutes to herself in a bathroom stall for quiet.

But even here, the air perfumed with acts of dubious achievement, something wicked this way comes. 

It started as a hiss, then a gurgle. Tommie pressed her ears against the wall tile, hearing the pipes shake, then sputter. 

And then the world exploded in a gush of water and tears.

[blushingblurbs]

Warning: nasty visual

I was trying to describe how my belly feels as this sickness takes over :/

Basically, imagine a coloring book page of the digestive system.

Grab a colored pencil. I’ve been imagining a sicky green color.

And just started shading in the stomach, intestines, and bowels. Don’t stop until they’re all green.

That yucky green color spreading? That’s the tummy bug spreading through and attacking my belly 😭🤢

[craanbery]

my house.. is alive

[little-eye-guy]

i have sat up. still on the floor though

[cande-dooder]

Taco Bell yesterday and McDonald’s today was not a good choice 😖🤢🤢🤢

[writers-potion]

Techniques for Building Suspense

Pose a Question

Plant a question in the readers' mind for which they want an answer. This will motivate them to read on.

What is going to happen?

What has happened? Dark pasts, unrevealed motivations, good for mystery plots.

What is happening? Mystify the POV character and the reader for a few paragraphs, making them wait for the moment when it all falls into place.

The Ticking Clock

Give your protagonist a time attack for their goal to be achieved.

Show how time passes with each step, the stakes rising with every hour spent.

The sun sinking into the horizon, the digital watch blinking out of battery, the distant church bells chiming with impending doom.

Pacing

Generally, fast-paced action scenes with have little description, allowing the reader to feel the exciting rush of immediate action.

When the suspense is great, you can increase it even more by slowing the pace. Keep the reader waiting for the big blow that is definitely coming.

Works best when the MC is unable to do anything (e.g. tied to a chair, trapped in the attic, etc.)

Insert sentences of description to slow pace. (e.g. upstairs, a toilet flushed, and water gurgled through the pipe in the wall.)

The Door Opens

Put a door between the MC and the danger. It serves as a psychological barrier, the last chance to turn back.

Use any kind of door: a front door, entry arch, trap door, garden gate, stile, ave mouth, etc.

Describe how the door looks and opens. (e.g. The door's white paint was flaking, revealing previous costs of scarlet and black. The door whined inwards on its hinges.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

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[diapersguy]

I was out in the garden enjoying the sun, when I felt my stomach really start to gurgle. Soon the cramps started and I just knew I had to get inside to the toilet. I made it with seconds to spare only to find out that Daddy was already in there. I knocked on the door and tried the handle but I couldn’t get in. My stomach started to cramp and I could feel the urge to let the poop out growing with each second. I put my hand against my bum to try and hold it in but that wasn’t going to work and I couldn’t hold it any more. I pulled my shorts down and squatted, feeling the liquid poop hit the seat of my diaper.

[pedge-page]

i love your preggo wife drabbles soo much!!! could you write one where joel takes care of reader with her morning sickness? 🫶🏻

Joel dealing with Preggo Reader: Morning Sickness

Notes: Idk why I keep making reader so mean but he's such a trooper! I'm also no pregnancy expert obviously so plz take my minimal effort in research with a grain of salt.

Warnings: mean reader, language, vomitting, morning sickness

- - - -

"I hate your penis."

Joel rolls his eyes. It's only the 11th time you've said it today while being hunched over the toilet, with Joel caringly hovering over you, holding your hair out of the way as you take a deep breath and hurl the breakfast he made you this morning.

"I hate—"

"I know, sweet pea. Just breathe."

You nod in an almost drunken state. He knows its because you've got no energy in you to really fight him, with the baby giving you all the first batch of hell in the life long journey of headaches in child bearing.

He rubs over your spin, caressing the shivers raking over your body so you can focus on not dying right now.

"I hate your toes. I hate your shampoo. I hate your fingernails. I hate your toast.  I hate—"

"Ah huh..."

At first he was pretty upset and angered by how much you loath him, but at some point he's tuned it out and just holds and shushes you. While you pout your disdain for the man, you don't oppose his touch.

For now.

"Doin' so good, baby. It's only temporary, baby's just making sure you're a tough momma—"

"Shut the fuck up and get me some water."

Joel stands, his knees reminding him of his less than youthful age, before running downstairs and grabbing a bottle.

You were both a little surprised that all the morning sickness you were warned about hadn't really given either of you trouble in your first trimester. It came with a surprise by the middle of your second, and comes and goes on a daily basis. Today is honestly not so bad: it's your attitude shift that really gives him whiplash.

By the time he gets back up, you're already meandering out of the bathroom like a lost soul with puffy, sleep deprived eyes, and over to the bed, slowly crawling over the mattress, muttering "too tall". You feel his hand supportively on your back, but you snap "fuck off" and get in the bed yourself. He goes to tuck you in with the sheet, but again your hand slaps his away and you close your eyes into darkness.

You can still feel his annoying presence. "What!" You yell, eyes shooting open to see the bottle dangling from his hand. You snatch it without a thank you and gulp.

Joel's just got his hands on his hips, staring at you.

"Kern I hEp ouu, Hondah?" You gurgle through your water sloshing in your mouth.

He just chuckles to himself. "You're cute like this."

You swallow. "I'll fuck you the fuck up."

He laughs even harder, seemingly unserious in your threats. To him, you looked even smaller than before, despite the obvious roundness growing in your tum tum. You seemed like some small puppy finding her growl, or toddler pointing her finger trying to be intimidating but unaware of how badly you're failing.

"So amusing? Why dont you make yourself useful and rub my feet," you demand.

"You need to eat food, baby girl."

"BaBy GiRl" you mock with puppet hand mouth. "NAG nag NAG. I Don't WANT food. I want my FOOT. In your HAND. before I put it up your ASS."

Joel can tolerate the baby cock-blocking him for a few weeks and the endless assult of your words, but he puts his foot down when your basic needs arent being met. "I need you to eat food. You need energy. Baby needs energy."

"Fine! Crackers, you crackhead. Then—" and you thrust your leg in the hair and wiggle your foot in his face so he gets the picture.

"Okay okay!" And he walks out the bedroom.

Joel spends a record 4 minutes downstairs hurriedly putting together a fancy array of cracker options, from Saltines, to Townhouse, to Ritz. He also pops a few cubes of diced ham in his mouth and then holds a few in his hand to snack on later since he too had to abandon breakfast to service you.

By the time you're conplaining "it's been hours!" He's trotting up the stairs, you wiggle your bum so you sit upright in bed, hand over gurgling belly as he brings the tray to you.

Just as youre about to feast on these dry ass cardboard squares, your nose twitches. You see Joel chewing something in his grasp, popping one cube of pale meat quickly into his mouth, and it takes all of 2 seconds for the smell to travel to your brain before you're throwing the tray on the ground, crackers spilling all over the carpet and b lining to the bathroom again to throw up.

As he hears your dramatic gasps and hurls, Joel pulls out his little note pad he's been documenting your pregnancy so far. He writes "no ham" in the lines , right under "hates my penis", before tossing the paper on the bed and stroking your hair lovingly again as you empty your entire organs in the toilet.

By the time you finish, you've got snot and tears running down your face. "but I LOVED HAAAMMMMM" You screech.

It's true. You used to wrap a thick spread of cold butter on a slice of cheap deli ham and eatnit like a cannoli— something he thought was a weird aquired taste BEFORE he even got you pregnant.

Joel grabs a tissue and plants it firmly in your face, and you squeeze your eyes tight and blow right into his palm like a little snot nosed trumpet. He rubs his fingers in your nostrils to get all the boogers out before tossing it and helping you up to your feet again.

All the while you're bawling "l-l-loved—my hh-ham—n cheese" with gross babbling as he tucks you back in the duvet. You were fine with giving up other aversions like tomatoes, pizza crust, and yogurt. Even sex (occasionally). But your beloved ham is one baby step too far.

"Your—"sniffle— "big—"hiccup—"ugly—"choke—"WORM —" cough—"DID THIS TO MEEE," you accuse his crotch and wail into the air.

Then you hiccup very loudly and go quiet entirely.

You look around with curious eyes, fresh tears suddenly unbothering you at the moment.

"Mmmmmmmn crackers," you moan. "Gimme that one," and you point to the mess on the floor.

"What one?"

"That one!"

He bends down and picks up a piece.

But you shake your head. "No that one."

"No." "No the other." "No."

"Which one!" He shouts, unable to contain the lace of frustration.

"The one I'm pointing to, stupid!"

He finally picks up one hes pointed to 3 times already and you clap your hands.

You snatch it out of his grasp, pull a hair off its curved cracked edge before munching on it happily.

He looks at with uncertainty on his face.

You swallow the dry mushed bits and hum contently. "Mmm. Salty."

-

Not even 12 hours later  you two are getting ready for bed, and you mood has completely changed. Still sick, but instead of being unable to stand Joel's entire existence, you praise it.

"Joel, honey? Can you please prop my feet up Under this pillow. I'm sorry. I just can't seem to reach it myself."

"Baby? I'm a little thirsty. Can you get me some water?"

"Im so sorry, Joel. I just can't stomach this food, I know you put so much effort into it. Ugh! I loved this, I really did! I don't know what's wrong with me."

You rub over the discomfort in your slightly swollen tummy and try to be a brave girl and fight the tears, as Joel's been so attentive to your needs, aches, cries and cravings, only to hurl them back up.

You sniffle and look up to him.

He's a bit tense, almost in a fight or flight stance with fear behind his eyes.

"W-whats wrong, Joel?" you ask with a honey song voice.

"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?"

- - - -

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