that-horny-sideblog

[that-horny-sideblog]

I want a nap with a pretty sleepy sick boy 😫 holding n keeping him warm, waking up to check his fever, listening to his heavy exhausted breathing, cool cloth when he needs it, watching his sleepy eyes🥰🥰

+1000 xp if he needs to puke 🥵

[that-horny-sideblog]

me before i realized i have this kink: man i keep accidentally putting my ocs in situations where they're sick/throwing up/passing out. i wish i could write normal shit without derailing the plot to make everyone sick all the time

me now that i've discovered porn: okay blorbo it's designated porn time. you're going to throw up now

the blorbo: actually... i think i will go on a long diatribe about my religious angst

[that-horny-sideblog]

i put more effort into this than intended and ended up with yet another oc ship

like my content? check out my ko-fi ＼＼\୧( ⁼̴̶̤̀ω⁼̴̶̤́ )૭ //／／

[that-horny-sideblog]

Okay, so recently, I saw someone say that they couldn’t wait for their next payday so they could do a stuffing session, apologising that they didn’t have $40 to spare.

That seems a lot of money to me so I thought I’d make a basic guide. It’ll focus on being economic, but you can use it as a starter’s guide if you need one.

Basics:

Don’t waste money and time on empty calories. Things like chocolate and other sugary foods with little bulk to them are fun to eat, but they don’t actually take up much room in your stomach and are likely to make you feel nauseous early on.

Buy in bulk. If you’re looking at actual food rather than snacks, meals made from pasta and other foods that can be bought in larger amounts are usually quite cost effective. Rice, pasta and noodles are all good. (see below for pasta recipes)

I mentioned time. Time is your main enemy. The body takes around twenty to thirty minutes to realise it is full, so eat what you can before the food wall sets in!

Variation is important. Flavours and, more importantly, textures can get old fast. Make sure you’re eating something you like and switch it up if you need to. Sweet and salty flavours work well. If you plan to eat a gallon of ice cream, keep something crunchy and savoury nearby.

Liquids are brilliant for bloating but not good if you want to fit as much solid food in as you can. After a high carb meal, a glass of water can make all the difference, but if you’re trying to gain, steer clear of drinking until you’ve eaten what you need to!

Condiments are important if you’re trying to eat a large amount of dry carbs; they break up the flavour and texture, so keep a bottle handy.

Food groups:

If you’re into stuffing but are trying not to gain weight, it can be done. Try loading up with low calorie vegetables that still have a lot of mass. Aside from that, certain food groups can have a huge effect on your stuffing sessions.

Protein: hard to break down. Protein will fill you up much faster than other foods, which is why people try to eat as much as possible when dieting. You wont be able to eat as much as you’d like and the food wall will last much longer.

Sugar: As mentioned before, sugar induces nausea and usually isn’t bulky enough. 

Dairy: Things like ice cream can be amazing for stuffing and milk is great for cooling the heat of spicy food but it’s almost impossible to ingest high amounts of dairy without vomiting, so be careful.

Carbohydrates: these should be your main focus, especially if you’re gaining. Complex carbs like pasta, rice and bread are the best for stuffing and tend to expand once liquids are consumed. Baked goods are great because you can make them yourself for a reasonable price or look in your local bakery section for good deals. Pick up a bag of cookies or a box of doughnuts for a cheap session.

Recipes:

I’m a big fan of pasta. Well, I like Italian food in general; pizza is great if you’ve got some money to spare, a phone and you don’t feel like cooking. Pasta is easy to cook and you’ll probably accidentally cook more than you need to. Leftovers are great.

Spaghetti Bolognese:

There’s no real way to make this but this is how I do it. It’s pretty much a blend of what my mother (a chef) and a friend I met on tumblr taught me. 

Ingredients:

minced beef

tinned chopped tomatoes

tomato passata

garlic

onion

herbs/spices (I use oregano, basil and paprika)

sugar

salt

oil

Chop the onion.

Add oil to a pot and turn the stove onto a medium heat. Add the mince a stir it gently until all of the meat has changed colour.

Add onions and stir briskly to allow the onions to cook slightly before adding the tomatoes and passata.

Open clove of garlic and crush three sections into the pot. Add a few pinches of each herb/spice (this is open to interpretation, add however much you like) and sweeten with a spoonful of sugar (more if it tastes too much like tomato).

Allow to simmer, stirring occasionally for twenty minutes.

Cook pasta, serve and add grated parmesan cheese if preferred.

Sometimes I just add a little butter, cheese and oregano to cooked pasta, or I’ll add a cheap jar of sauce if I’m lazy. It’s ridiculously cost effective and perfect for stuffing.

Some BBC pasta recipes that tend to be quite healthy

 TLDR/more ideas:

So, as tempting as it may be to just go to the shop and buy a ton of junk food, that’s expensive and not that effective. Some cheap ways of stuffing include:

buying a family pack of baked goods

frozen pizzas

pasta + cheap sauce

budget noodles

boxes of mac n cheese

BREAD (really bread is just great, buy something nice from a bakery and stuff it with whatever fillings you’d like)

for gainers:

add cheese to everything (although cheese, especially when melted, acts the same way protein does to your appetite)

add butter to any sauces (or anything else you can)

[that-horny-sideblog]

demon feeder that possesses your body and makes you eat til your belly's distended before leaving your body and humiliating you about it

[that-horny-sideblog]

also this. bc i have to put my ovi/preg monster foot through the door first thing, y'know

[that-horny-sideblog]

butter tart & gumdrop ft. one too many fried oreos & a whole lot of orange that i had to desaturate so it would stop hurting my eyes

[gumdrops design by my best friend tumbler user @thegroovyarchives !!]

[that-horny-sideblog]

Whumpcember 2023: Day 3: Hypothermia

@whumpcember

Content warning: Emetophobia (mentioned)

Read on Ao3

After almost 200 years in darkness, Astarion isn't used to the sun. On a particularly hot day, he gets to see just how bad the sun can make him feel even when it isn't burning him.

Astarion loves the sun. How could he not, after almost two centuries of cold and dark. His elven need for less rest meant he had been up for every sunrise since his abduction, soaking up every bit of sunlight he could. The thought of growing sick of the warm lights touch on his skin had seemed impossible to Astarion.

He feels sick of it now.

It had been hot all day, but when the sun reached its highest point, the temperature rose even further.

Astarion squints at the sky, where the sun still hangs almost dead centre. The pulsing pain in his skull is only getting worse, and even what little armour he's wearing feels too heavy. Astarion didn't know it was even possible for him to sweat this much. But he feels the way his clothes stick to his skin.

The sun must surely be mocking Astarion by showing him all the other ways it can hurt him.

The others are walking ahead of Astarion. He'd stopped listening to their talking a while ago, but it seems like Gale is talking with Karlach about something. Something Astarion is sure he wouldn't have cared to listen to even if his head didn't feel like it was about to slit open. Wyll ads comments to their conversation now and again, but he's mainly focused on keeping a keen eye on the path they are walking.

That's all they've been doing really. Just walking.

Hiking wasn't Astarions preferred pastime, but he usually doesn't struggle with the activity this bad. He feels shaky, every step he takes uncertain.

His companions are dealing much better with the heat. Sure, Astarion is certain he heard Gale complaining a while back, but they're managing fine. Astrion can't afford to let on how bad the weather is making him feel. Not after everyone just recently learned of him being a vampire.

Being a liability in addition to a potential threat? There's no way that would go down well. He's just going to have to power through.

As that taught crosses his mind, Astarion is hit with a sudden wave of nausea, and his vision blurs.

He's forced to lean onto a nearby rock for support, fearing his legs might give out if he doesn't.

But only for a moment, he tells himself. He only needs to rest for a moment, and then he'll catch up with the others. When Astarion next opens his eyes, he is sitting on the floor, not sure he can remember doing so.

He immediately closes his eyes again. Next to being too hot, the sun is also too bright. Oh how Astarion longs for somewhere cool and dark to curl up in. But he has to get up. He tries to force his shaking arms to do just that by pushing himself up and off the dusty floor, but he falls back down again immediately.

Astarion groans, but doesn't go to try again. Not right away anyway.

“Astarion?”, comes Wyll's voice, sounding concerned, whether for Astarions safety, or because he doesn't trust the vampire to leave his sight is unclear.

When Astarion opens his eyes, his companions are already next to him. Wyll and Gale are crouched next to him, Karlach a little further away. Karlach has got that look on her face she often does, a look of conflict as she tries to work out how to help without actively setting something ablaze with her burning skin.

Astarion sighs. So much for not appearing as a liability.

“You're burning up.”, Wyll says, hand hovering just short of touching Astarions skin.

“You don't think he's...” Gale continues before Astarion can even address Wyll, a look crossing his face that betrays what the rest of his statement is. Astarion bats Wylls hand away and tries to stand up again. His arms cramp and a fresh stab of pain shoots through his skull.

“I'm not turning into a Mindflayer, Gale.” Astarion slurs, the unsteady quality of his voice surprising him. “Just let me get up.”

“I have to agree with Astarion.” Wyll says. “Not the bit about getting up, please stay down.”

Astarion sighs in annoyance, but complies. He feels like he might actually be sick if he did manage to get up. He wasn't going to let the other see him sink to that kind of low.

“I have seen this before.” Wyll continues “People that were out in the sun too long experiencing sudden bouts of weakness.” Astarion wants to protest, disagree with Wyll calling him weak. Ironically, he couldn't muster the strength to do so. “We need to cool you down.”

Astarion zones out once more as Wyll and Gale discuss moving him to the shade, as Karlach stands there looking uncomfortable in her inability to aid in the task. Astarion is distantly aware of Wyll and Gale's hands on him, moving him, but the headache spiking with every shaky movement claims the majority of his attention.

Wyll snapping his fingers in front of Astarions face brings his focus back to the present.

“Hey, don't pass out on us.” Wyll says, sounding concerned again. Astarion wants to tell him to piss off, maybe insult him too, but all he ends up doing is glaring at him. Wyll looks fuzzy and washed out, but at least Astarion can see him. Karlach and Gale are barely more than smeared specks of colour at the corner of Astarions field of view.

Wyll started to insist Astarion lose some of the layers he was wearing, and again, Astarion wants to spit out some kind of comeback, embarrass the man with a flirtatious remark.

“Fine.” is what Astarion manages to force out. So soon he's laying there in his shirt and trousers, armour discarded to the side far less neatly than he'd usually like.

“Do vampires drink water?” Gale interjects after a while of heavy silence. Astarion doesn't remember ever having a problem with it, and can't bring himself to care to think about it further. At this point, he'd try almost anything to cool down. He holds his hand out in a silent demand for someone to hand him some. He pretends not to notice how much his arm is shaking, and tries to not let on how much energy the motion is costing him.

A bottle is handed to him, Astarion not having the will to pay attention to whom it came from. Couldn't have been Karlach. Everything she handles feels at least warm to the touch.

The water isn't cold, but it might as well be when it hits the back of Astarions throat. A lot of it gets spilled down his neck and chest, he feels the cold rivulets running along his abnormally hot skin.

They stayed like that for a long time, just resting in the shade. Karlach asked if they were sure there was no way she could help, and whilst Astarion couldn't see her, he knew she must be pulling an expression more and more like a kicked dog. By the time she asks for the sixth or seventh time, he was sure telling her apart from Scratch would be near impossible.

By the time Astarion feels marginally better, at least not like he's going to be sick if he moves too hastily, he expects the other three to show at least some annoyance with him for waiting the better part of the afternoon, if not downright animosity.

But none of them mentions anything of the sort. If anything, they act like it was their fault. By the time they get back to camp, sun almost gone from the sky, they even insist Shadowheart take a look at him.

When Astarion settles to trance he feels weird. The headache is still there, but manageable now. No, it's nothing physical that makes him feel off. It's the way the others reacted to his weakness. He can't place how he feels about it.

So he begins his trance, odd sensation in his chest, hoping they weren't going to spring some sudden recompense for their compassion on him. All he could do was continue to prove his usefulness and try to steer clear of any more embarrassing displays of ineptitude.

[that-horny-sideblog]

Whumpcember 2023: Day 2: Sickness

@whumpcember

Content warning: Emetophobia

Read on Ao3

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Astarion ends up drinking the blood of a Shadow-Cursed creature.

Lucky for him, Wyll isn't going to let him suffer the consequences alone.

As soon as the cursed blood had hit the inside of his mouth, Astarion had regretted his decision. He'd been cornered, caught between the deadly twisting dark of the Shadow cursed lands and one of the poor souls that fell to said dark.

Hours later, sitting in the warm glow of the Last Light Inn's fire place, Astarion wishes he'd kept his teeth to himself. There's cause for celebration. Karlach just had her engine upgraded, and is greatly enjoying her newfound freedom. Astarion didn't particularity feel like joining in. A sharp pain has made its home in his abdomen, and every once of his attention is being consumed by keeping how much he's shaking unnoticeable. As much as Astarion shifted the way he sat or pressed the palm of his hand subtly against his stomach, nothing seemed to ease his discomfort.

Not only had Astarion been caught quite a way away from his companions, but he had also been down a dagger.

A frankly embarrassing oversight on his part had lead to him dropping one of them.

No health potions on him, he'd made the split decision to use the assets his vampirism came with and drink his opponents blood.

Things take a turn for the worse as nausea sets in. The overwhelming smell of food and copious amounts of alcohol aren't helping. He needs to leave the inn.

With a quick squeeze of Wylls hand, and a whispered excuse about being tired, Astarion gets up to make his way to camp. The gingerly way he moves and slight limp can luckily be blamed on the lingering injuries from the earlier fight, so Astarion is confident that no one will bat an eye.

But of course Wyll can't leave well enough alone.

Just before Astarion can get out of the inn, Wyll catches up to him.

“Are you alright, Astarion?” Wyll takes his hand in his again. “You hardly spoke a word all evening...” The look Wyll bares is soft and worried, so much so that Astarion is almost forced to consider his feelings for the man deeper. Something he's very much been avoiding. Instead, Astarion flashes him a smile.

“Why ever wouldn't I be alright?” Astarion answers, resting his unoccupied hand on his hip in a way he knows looks good. The motion doesn't feel good, but that hardly matters. “I'm just tired.”

The look Wyll is giving him doesn't change.

“Are you sure? You took quite a beating in that fight today.” Wyll brings his hand up to gently brush just shy of a bruise blooming on Astarions cheekbone. Astarion doesn't let the smile drop. He got himself into this mess, he'll have to find his own way out of it. Besides, throwing up in front of the Blade of Frontiers was hardly going to make the man find him more desirable.

“Oh nothing a good nights rest won't fix.” Astarion says, laughing for emphasis.

“I could accompany you back to camp.” Wyll suggests, running his thumb across the back of Astarions hand. Astarion scoffs.

“I can manage that short a walk on my own, thank you very much. Stop worrying so much and join the others!” Pressing a chaste kiss to Wylls lips, Astarion slips his hand from Wylls and steps back. “I'll be fine.”

Wyll struggles to remain serious after the kiss, a smile crossing his face. Astarion knew that would work.

“If you say so... I'll see you later then.”

“Later, my love.” Astarion turns before Wyll can ask more questions, giving him a little wave.

Glancing over his shoulder, Astarion catches a glimpse of Wyll rejoining the others. Astarion sighs, tension leaving his body he hadn't even known was there in the first place. The further he gets from prying eyes, the harder every step he takes seems. His limbs feel leaden, all his senses start appearing distant.

Next thing he knows, he's fallen to his knees, body trying desperately to rid its self of the vile blood. It tastes twice as bad as it did the first time, and burns all the way up. When the retching finally stills, he's shaking violently, barely able to keep himself from falling into the small pool of congealed blood and swirling ichor on the floor.

Expelling the blood he did does nothing to lessen the agony he's in. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to get back up. Doing so leaves Astarion out of breath, despite not needing to breath. The awful feeling in his stomach has spread its ugly tentacles all over his body, layering a new kind of ache on top of the one already present from spending the day fighting.

Just a little further, Astarion tells himself, then he can collapse all he likes.

And when the camp comes into sight, he almost does just that. But Astarion forces his legs to carry him just a little further. Once he reaches the entrance of his tent, he lets his body do what it wants, and the ground comes up to meet him.

It's always cold in the Shadow cursed lands, Astarion hates it. He hates it even more now. Every shiver that runs through his body aggravates every ache and pain.

If Astarion had any energy left, he'd try and drag himself into his bedroll. But he doesn't, so he settles for blindly reaching for his blanket and haphazardly pulling it over himself. It would have to do.

At least the tent lends him some privacy in his suffering, not something Astarions used to being afforded.

Under Cazador, pain was rarely a private thing. Someone was always there, observing it, enjoying it. Astarion shuddered. Thinking about his former master now is a dangerous game to be playing. He tries to push the taught away, tries to distract himself, tries to think of something else, anything else. The harder he attempts to do so, the more he ends up doing exactly what he wanted to avoid.

Memories of past pain mix with the present in a mess of blurry images and muddled sensations. The tug of commands unable to be disobeyed, rotting blood, pain no matter what he did, unwanted hands all over his body. Astarion is ashamed by the pathetic noise he lets escape his mouth.

He draws his knees to his chest, cheek pressed to the cold floor, blanked hardly helping keeping him warm at all. He'd feel sorry for himself, if this weren't his own fault.

Astarion counts himself lucky that breathing isn't a necessity. He doesn't think he'd have it in him to sit up or even roll over were he to be sick again. Whilst some of the cursed substance would undoubtable end up in his lungs, it'd hardly be the death of him.

His eyes flick to the piece of fabric separating him from the outside world as it shifts. A head pokes in, and none other than Wyll stares down at him, single red eye glowing in the dim light. Astarion can't really decide whether he prefers this to some rabid beast coming to bite his face off. His dignity would suffer less if it were the beast.

Something moves against the outside of his tent, and Astarions first instinct is: Run.

He can't, doesn't even try to.

Wyll immediately drops to his knees next to Astarion. "Hells, you look terrible." Astarion is sure he does.

A distant part of him wants to give Wyll a snarky answer, something about that being no way to greet your lover, but only a weak groan leaves his mouth.

Wyll brings his hand up to tilt Astarions head gently to one side. Astarion is aware that Wyll is saying something, but all he can focus on as soon as Wylls warm palm makes contact with his cheek is how good it feels. He leans into the touch as much as he possibly can, wanting desperately to cling to that tiny speck of warmth.

But just as fast as it appeared, it's gone again. Astarions attempt to pull Wylls hand back fails miserably. The cold seeps right back, worse than the first time.

“I'm getting Halsin. He'll know what to do.” Wyll says, pulling the blanket on Astarion to cover him better. As humiliating having Wyll see him like this is, the prospect of being left alone with his thoughts again unnerves Astarion. Talking isn't something he trusts himself to manage, so he throws Wyll a pleading look. Wyll sighs. “I'll be right back, promise.” He leans down and presses a quick kiss to Astarions forehead. “Just stay put, alright?”

And with that, he leaves. In some stupid attempt to get him to come back, Astarion puts all he's got into sitting up. His arms spasm under his weight and his head swims as renewed waves of nausea hit him, and, just as Astarion manages to get himself upright, his vision blurs and suddenly, everything goes dark.

The first thing that floods back when Astarion regains consciousness is his bodies disagreement with what he'd done the last day. Astarion partly wishes he hadn't woken up yet. At least then he wouldn't have to be an active participant in the pain he's experiencing.

The second thing Astarion notices is that he's laying against something warm.

Opening his eyes, Astarion notices that whilst he is still in his own tent, he isn't alone any more. It doesn't take a lot of thinking power to summarize that the lap his head is laying in is Wylls. His hand is in Astarion's hair, playing with it idly. When Astarion turns to look up, Wyll seems to gets shook from his thoughts. The distant look he had a moment ago is gone, the concern however doesn't leave his expression.

“Oh, I hope this wasn't too presumptuous of me.” Wyll says, withdrawing his hand. “I couldn't really ask you... Halsin said you might appreciate a bit of warmth.” He pauses, eyebrows drawn together. “I can leave, if you want me to.”

Wyll smiles and the warmth of it almost reminds Astarion of the sun.

“Don't you dare.” Astarion hisses, voice rough and unsteady, barely above a whisper. Astarion knows it would be better to take the out and let the man leave. It's awful to be seen like this, not to mention, very unhelpful to keeping on Wylls good side. It was hardly attractive, seeing Astarion this disgustingly sick.

But it also felt nice to not be alone, to be held. Astarion doesn't want to think about the feelings he holds for Wyll all too much, no matter what those feelings may be, but he couldn't deny that Wylls presence comforted him.

And Wyll explains what Halsin had done, that he had healed Astarions physical injuries as best he could and that he'd, correctly, guessed that Astarion had ingested blood tainted by the shadow curse. Some time during the explanation, Wyll started running his fingers through Astarions hair again.

“Halsin reckons the only thing you can really do is wait for the sickness to have run its course.” Wyll continues.

The urge to make some comment about the druid being useless was there, but not nearly pressing enough for Astarion to act on it.

A fresh shiver tears through Astarions body, and he subtly tries to shift himself closer to Wyll. Not nearly subtle enough it seems, as even faced with such minute movement, Astarions body protests adamantly and violently. A groan leaves Astarions mouth before he can even think to try and stop it. It's a horrible little thing too, weak and breathy.

“Can I try something?” Wyll asks. Astarion nods. What ever Wyll could come up with couldn't possibly make things worse. Wyll shifts Astarions head off of his lap, and for a moment it is worse as even that small bit of warmth is gone.

But it isn't gone for long, as Wyll moves to lay beside him, pulling Astarion to his chest so carefully Astarion is tempted to complain about Wyll treating him like he's make out of glass. Against the cold of Astarions skin, even through a layer of clothes, Wyll feels almost impossibly warm against his back. Wylls hands come to rest on Astarions chest, encircling him loosely.

And, although Astarion loathes to admit it, maybe he doesn't mind his suffering being witnessed all that much if the one with him is Wyll.

[that-horny-sideblog]

When someone asks an obviously injured/sick character if they're ok and they respond with a disdainful "do I look okay?"

[that-horny-sideblog]

l imbus c om pany limmbusd c ompfpany

big thanks to @pokemonispain for this commission!

we're a little busy here at the studio this time of the year but still around. psst, art commissions!

[that-horny-sideblog]

Spitting up

Another underrated action. Sickie's nausea is giving them horrible, wet, hiccup-burps they just can't control. Maybe they've been drinking something carbonated to try to settle their stomach, and now it's mixed with saliva and stomach acid and suddenly, one particularly nasty heave of their stomach brings up a mouthful they absolutely cannot swallow down, so they have to spit it out - into a receptacle if they're lucky, or maybe into a napkin, or the sidewalk, or . . . the floor. And it gets the yuckiness out of their mouth for the moment but they know there's more waiting to come up.

Or . . . sickie ate too much and has bad indigestion. A burp will help, right? So they're forcing them up, under their breath, trying to feel better. But the discomfort in their stomach keeps building, and the next burp comes up on its own, except it brings a little more with it. It's not a full vomit, not yet, but just enough to cause panic to set in, because the next time they spit up, there's going to be a lot more . . .

[that-horny-sideblog]

The relief pouring out of a sick person who had to be out and about all day with their cold and a fever as soon as they close the door of their apartment behind them and fall into the arms of their SO. Finally allowed to be weak. Finally having someone there to fuss over them. Finally home.

[that-horny-sideblog]

hmm.. vampire with a belly ache..?

liquidy churns erupting from their belly after a feast too much for them to handle

their fangs coated with their form of sweetness, but their stomach has been pushed to its limit..

they have a looong night of their stomach struggling to digest, sloshing at the slightest movement and bubbly grumbles so loud it fills the silence of the night..

[that-horny-sideblog]

"my gut feels rotten" "I got such a sour stomach" "somethings not sitting right in my belly" "my tummy's being twisted in knots" "oh man, my stomach's really sore..." "sorry, I got the bubble guts right now" etc etc. 🥰😍🥰

[that-horny-sideblog]

Belly Hurts

My belly hurt a little this morning (I get bellyaches really often) so I decided to devote the day to making it into a nice ball of pain ;) (I’m not finished yet) it’s easy to make my belly hurt, the hard bit is pushing it to the absolute limit but I’ve been giving it a shot, spent the day eating and drinking the stuff that makes it swell and ache (which is a lot of stuff really, it’s sensitive, which is great cus it means I don’t need to have a huge capacity to really make it hurt) and abusing it with tight jeans and belts wrapped around the parts that throb the most.

It’s currently bloated and gurgling, my lower stomach is so full and it’s cramping, the pressure of the jeans and belt is getting unbearable and it’s taking ages to type this cus I have to keep stopping to ride out a cramp, I can barely touch my lower belly, it just hurts too much but I’ve just added another belt down there as tight as I can bear it, I want to make it hurt so much more but I’ll have to be smart about it or else I won’t be able to finish ;) I’m thinking down a milkshake, that’ll take just long enough to kick in that I should be able to, but it should result in an agonisingly painful bellyache, dairy really makes my gut hurt and it on top of everything else I reckon it’ll be horrendous, gassy cramping and general fullness and with the belts the gas won’t be able to move much, a recipe for some truly awful pain.

[that-horny-sideblog]

In praise of forehead feels.