#drunk emeto

[lisupandowntown]

Bar games

So this was meant to be a little bit of healing fluff for Noa and Rory, and it is. But Avery and Adam insisted on tagging along. CW - a little N S F W at the start and end, but pretty blurred.

“I invited Adam to meet us at Five Horses,” Noa called into the bedroom.  She adjusted her halter top and examined her reflection critically in the mirror.  The shirt definitely looked better without a bra, but they were going to a sports bar popular with law enforcement types and she didn’t want to look trashy. So she snapped a quick selfie and sent it to Logan and a couple of other friends for their opinion just as Rory walked into the bathroom wearing jeans but no shirt.  

“That should be amusing.”  Rory wrapped his arms around her from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder.  “Cause I think Avery’s coming too.”  He began nibbling on the side of her neck. “Don’t tell him; it’ll be more fun that way. 

“Then you can’t warn Avery either.”  Noa took half a step back and pressed herself against her boyfriend. “We need to keep it fair.” 

Rory growled, low in her ear.  “Assuming we make it out of the house.  Cause you look fucking hot.”  

Noa took that as all the confirmation she needed that she shouldn’t put on a bra.  Rory’s hands were exploring the skin between the bottom of her halter and the top of her jeans, and if her brother hadn’t agreed to meet them at the bar she might have suggested getting there late.  Reluctantly, she moved Rory’s hands away.

“Get dressed and let me finish my makeup; I want to be there when Adam and Avery both see each other. With popcorn.”  

Rory chuckled. “You’re having an awful lot of fun over the thought of throwing your own twin to the wolves.  Or one wolf, at least.”  He grabbed the mouthwash and swished some around before spitting into the sink.

“Who said Avery’s the wolf?  Maybe it’s Adam,” Noa teased back.  “Cause Avery gets just as flustered.  He just shows it differently.  He tries too hard to play it cool and Adam tries too hard to be important.” She walked her fingers up his bicep. Rory’s mood was more lighthearted than had been for weeks. Months, even, and Noa fully intended to lean into that tonight.

“You’re a brilliant judge of character, you know that?”  Rory turned around and gave Noa a kiss.  “Jack and I always give Avery a hard time because he’s got no game.” He pulled her flush against him, front to front this time. 

Noa sighed contentedly and slotted herself into Rory’s hip.  “How about we both have to drink every time we have the urge to tell them to get a room?” she asked with a laugh, resting her hands flat on his chest and then tweaking a nipple.  Rory shuddered and his eyes went unfocused for a second. He threaded his fingers through Noa’s hair and tilted her head back to look at her.

“And you’re sure we have to go?” 

“Very sure.” Noa sighed.  “He’d never admit it, but I think Adam’s a little lonely.  He’s been working so hard, getting settled at his new job, and it doesn’t leave much time for being social.  And when he does go out, it’s with all of us couples.  He needs to find some single friends in Boston.”

“Morrison’s single.”  Rory moved his mouth back to the side of Noa’s face. Even though he couldn’t see it, she rolled her eyes.

“Right.  I’ll just suggest that the two of them go thrifting or . . . Fuck that feels good.”  Rory was tracing tiny, biting kisses along her jaw and Noa almost stopped worrying about her brother.  Especially because pulling boyfriend’s head down to her and kissing him him in earnest seemed like a much better idea.  Without breaking contact Rory lifted her up and settled Noa on the counter, groaning into her mouth when she wrapped her legs around his waist and tickled her fingers up his bare back.  “You.  Are.  Terrible,” she mumbled whenever she managed to steal a breath.  She didn’t try to stop him though so Rory just grinned and kept going for another minute before abruptly pulling back.  

Noa had been leaning forward, trying to get as close to Rory as possible, and now she nearly fell off the counter. “What, you’re stopping?  Now?” Her entire body was tingling, couldn’t he see that?  

Well yes, he could. Rory shrugged nonchalantly, but Noa caught the subtle shift of his body as he swiped his hand down below his belt.  “We have to go, remember?” he asked pointedly. He helped Noa off the counter.  “Finish your makeup while I put on my shirt.”

“I hate you.”  They hadn’t had enough moments like this lately and Noa wanted more. She considered putting her hands somewhere strategic; it would take just a couple of thoughtful touches to get Rory aroused - and then she could be the one to stop.  But they were already late, so she just glared at him again and then turned very deliberately around to put on her lipstick.  Rory just chuckled.

“Nah, you love me.” 

“Hmphf,” she huffed.  “Maybe.”

Even with the delays, they made it to Five Horses Tavern before either Adam or Avery.  But a few of Rory’s coworkers were already there and had taken over the tables at the back of the bar where it opened up to an outside deck.  There were pitchers of beer and margaritas lined up down the center.  Rory hummed appreciatively.

“Mmm, I love it when you taste like margarita mix, all spicy.”  He started to pour her a glass and then stopped.  “You’ve eaten, right?  Or do you want to order something here?  They have a pretty good menu.”  

Noa picked up the laminated card on the table.  “I had a late lunch but if you get something I’ll have a few bites.”

Rory rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, right. I know how that goes; you’ll say you want just a taste and the next thing I know, my entire burger is gone.” He plucked the menu out of her hand.  “I’m getting a large order of fries, a burger for me, and maybe you can have some.” 

Noa flicked his ear.  “Fine. And a grilled chicken wrap.  Are you happy?” 

“Very happy, cause I’m with you.” Rory grinned at her over his beer.  “And Avery too.”  He reached out to clasp hands with his newly arrived partner and pull him down into a seat at their table.  “Glad you finally made it.”

“I’m right on time; you’re just early.”  Avery poured himself a beer, swallowed most of it, and then refilled.  “Although I should have come when you did. Wasted an hour texting with a guy who waited until minute 58 to raise all his red flags.”  He grimaced and drank more beer before reaching out to grab Noa’s hand.. “Any time you want to find me that ‘Noa with an H,’ let me know.”

Noa gave his arm a reassuring pat. “I’m looking, Avery, I promise.  But . . . I assume you’d be happy with someone with a different name, right? If I found the right person?” She kept her voice deliberately light.  And she was pretty sure Avery couldn’t hear Rory’s soft huff of amusement. He frowned at her anyway.

“I know what you’re doing and it won’t work.”  Avery jabbed a finger in her direction.  “No matter how hot he is.” 

Noa filed away the fact that Avery had immediately known who she was talking about and wasn’t shy about admitting it..  Now she shrugged, unrepentant. As far as she was concerned, all she was doing was putting ideas out there.  What anyone did - or didn’t - do with them wasn’t up to her.  And while it was true she’d rarely seen her brother flustered the way he was whenever Avery Morrison came up, that didn’t mean he was eager to start something that would be wildly out of character for him. But. 

Noa was also convinced that both Avery and Adam were not particularly happy right now, even though Adam at least hadn’t quite admitted it.  And she knew Avery well enough now that she wasn’t afraid to be blunt.  

“I don’t think his hotness is the issue,” she agreed.  “I’m just suggesting - and feel free to ignore me if you want - but maybe it’s time you try going for something outside of your usual?  Since it doesn’t seem to have worked so far, I mean.”   

“Oof, that’s harsh, sweetheart.”  Avery gave her a mournful look. “Accurate, but harsh.  And maybe I do need to look against my type.”  He took another gulp of beer.  “But even if you’re right - and I’m not saying you are, but even IF -  that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m interested in . . . “ His mouth snapped suddenly shut, and Noa knew why before she even looked up to see her brother standing at their table.  It seemed like Adam had made it all the way to their table without realizing who was sitting with them.  Now his eyes traveled back and forth between Noa and Avery and she could almost see the wheels turning.

“Here we go.”  Rory’s voice was low in her ear.  “Wanna watch, or go find a dark corner to make out?” His hand tickled at her waist.

“Stay for now,” Noa muttered back, shivering. “But ask me again in five.”  Even if Adam was surprised to see Avery, he hid it well. Only Noa recognized the tight set of his shoulders that suggested he felt a little off-balance.  But he quickly masked it with his trademark smile and projected confidence. 

“Hey sis; you look great.  I really like that top.”  Adam hugged Noa and greeted Rory before sitting down at the table and locking eyes with Rory’s partner.  “Morrison.  Good to see you. And not vomiting.”  

Avery grinned back.  “Stomach’s fine so far; let’s hope it stays that way.  And anyway, by my count, I think it’s your turn to puke.”  He raised his beer in Adam’s direction.

“Touche,” Adam responded easily, pouring himself a margarita.  “So this is the famous FBI bar I’ve been hearing about, hmm?” He made a show of looking around.  “You’ll have to fill me in on anyone interesting I should meet. Unless I’m . . .  already familiar with everyone worthwhile, of course.”  Adam licked the salt off the rim of his glass before taking a sip.  

Noa wasn’t sure whether to groan or cheer at her brother’s behavior.  It was actually a little odd, watching him flirt. Normally guys flocked to him.  She took a long sip of her drink.  Maybe going against type wasn’t a bad thing for Adam either.  

Avery inclined his head in agreement.  “Let me know if anyone catches your eye and I’ll make an introduction,” he agreed genially.  

Rory was still ignoring the banter going on in front of him in favor of teasing his girlfriend.  He squeezed Noa’s waist and then leaned forward to refill her margarita. She twisted in her seat to look at him. “Trying to get me drunk?  Cause I’ll have you know I’m a sure thing.”  Her boyfriend grinned hungrily at her.  

“I’m looking forward to it.  Unless you wanna find a place to prove it now, of course.” Rory put a lime between his teeth, flesh side out, and raised his eyebrows at her.  “Wanna suck it?” 

There were twin groans from behind them.

“Haven’t we talked about this before, Landis?  No being impossibly cute with your girlfriend while I’m sitting here licking my wounds from my latest Grindr disaster.”  

“And that’s my sister you’re talking dirty to,” Adam added.  “I may not be as prude about you two as Gabe, but I don’t need it shoved in my face any more than Avery here does.”  Avery lifted his beer in agreement and Adam briskly clinked his glass.  “So a Grindr disaster, huh?  What happened?” 

Noa turned back to Rory, eyes wide. She wanted to say something but was afraid of breaking the spell that had Adam and Avery talking together like normal people. Rory’s own lips quirked  “I think Jack and Mira just got here; they must have gotten a babysitter after all.”  He tugged her out of her seat. “Want to go say hi?” 

Mira Yu grabbed Noa’s hand before she’d even sat down at the table.  “WHO is that beautiful specimen Avery’s talking to?  Any chance he’s into women? Cause I’d leave Jack in a heartbeat for an hour with that.”  She peered around her husband to look at the table Noa and Rory had just left.  “Half a heartbeat.”  

Noa laughed.  Mira was a cookbook author and editor; her speciality was writing about how to make ethnic foods accessible to families and children.  She was funny and friendly and made balancing motherhood and work look easy.  Noa adored her. “Adam’s very gay, I’m sorry,” she assured Mira.  Right now, he and Avery seemed to be deep in some sort of conversation and for half a second Noa wished she’d stayed at their table to listen. The other woman followed her gaze.  

“Maybe Avery will finally find the Prince Charming he’s looking for then; they certainly seem into each other, don’t they? Unless . . . you think Avery would lend him to me? Just for a bit.” She held up a quarter they’d been using for a drinking game.  “Heads I’ll let you have him, tails for me.”

Noa almost spit her drink across the table.  “That’s my brother, Meer! Oh my god!”  She shuddered while Mira dissolved into hysterics.  

“Well then I guess it’s me either way,” she finally gasped.  She hiccupped.  “Shit, I’m buzzed.  I’m going to have to pump and dump later.  Can’t feed Lucy tequila laced breastmilk.”  

“I’m glad to see you have your priorities straight.”  Mira’s husband Jack interjected himself into the conversation. He was Rory and Avery’s third partner and at 29 had established himself as the father figure of the trio even before he and Mira had welcomed Lucy. He handed his wife a cup of water.  “You’ll thank me when you have to wake up for the two a.m. feeding.”  

“As long as you wake up with me,” Mira said saucily, taking the water. “Thanks, babe.”  

Noa lost track of the time after that.  She and Rory teamed up for a game of tabletop beer pong and then got into a lively discussion with a couple of his coworkers about whether Mindhunter or Criminal Minds had a more realistic portrayal of the Agency.  At one point she looked over to the table where Adam and Avery were, but they were both gone. Interesting. She made a mental note to interrogate her brother tomorrow although truthfully, Avery would be more likely to tell her the truth.  But right now she needed to pee.

“I’ll be right back,” she told Rory.  “Bathroom.”  

Rory was deep into a game of bar trivia.  “What’s the name of the boat in Jaws, dammit, I know this,” he muttered, waving that he’d heard her but not taking his eyes off the control screen.  Noa leaned down to give him a kiss.

“Orca,” she whispered before turning away towards the restrooms. 

The bathroom was hot and stuffy, so after finishing up, Noa wandered out to the outside deck for some air.  At the back was a wide wooden staircase that led down to the alley below, and in that alley, partially obscured by the side of the building, were her brother and Avery Morrison.  They were wrapped around each other so tightly their bodies might as well have been fused, and Noa choked back a laugh.  The number of questions she had for her brother doubled on the spot.

But that was for tomorrow; she certainly wasn’t going to interrupt their fun.  Noa turned to walk back up the stairs, her mind on how to tell Rory what she’d seen without broadcasting it to the entire Boston FBI.  She wasn’t looking where she was going and tripped on the top rung.  A strong hand reached out and caught her, and a strange voice, heavy with booze, laughed.  

“Careful sweetheart.  I’ll help you walk if you need to.  Up, or . . . down.”  The hand moved familiarly around Noa’s waist.  

She twisted out of the grip and backed away.  The guy was blocking her path so she couldn’t keep walking so instead stared him up and down - Rory had taught her to always try to make eye contact.   The man was broad but not tall - probably only about 5’9” and definitely not FBI.  Noa scowled.  

“Let me through please; my boyfriend is waiting.”  She moved to the right and the guy shadowed her.  Noa gave a frustrated sigh. This type of behavior wasn’t new for her, but it was the first time she’d been hit on so blatantly since Damian Smith had attacked her while she was sleeping and it had been almost impossible to fight back.  But she wasn’t sleeping now. And she wasn’t scared.  She pushed the guy’s arm, quickly to throw him off balance and so he couldn’t grab her wrist. “I mean it;” she growled. “Get the fuck away from me.”  Noa didn’t dare take her eyes off the figure in front of her to look to where Rory was, but she knew it would only take a quick scream to get him here if she really needed him. 

The guy gave another drunken snort.  “Playing hard to get, are you?”  He took a stumbling step forward.  “C’mon, give me a chance.  I wanna see what’s under that cute little top.”  His hand reached out and caught on the strap of her halter.  

Noa didn’t hesitate.  Her knee made swift and direct contact with the guy’s crotch and she pushed him on the shoulder at the same time, shoving him away from her. He groaned and went down like a brick, panting and retching from the pain.  

“Fu-fuck . . . you . . . .Hllurk . . . bitch,” he gasped, doubled over now.  He heaved up beer onto the steps. Instead of immediately walking away, Noa stared down at him for an extra minute, satisfied while another figure walked up beside her. 

“She told you to stay the fuck away from her; too bad you didn’t listen.”  Rory’s voice was mild as he surveyed the writhing figure on the ground.  He rested his hand casually on Noa’s back.  “That was a great crotch shot, hon.  Taser couldn’t have brought him down faster.”   Rory’s fingers found the strap of Noa’s shirt.  “Can I re-tie this for you?  Looks like it’s come a little loose.” 

“Yes please,” Noa agreed.  She glanced down, where her would-be attacker was still gagging.  Tears were streaming out of his eyes as he glared up at Rory and Noa.  “Not too tight though; I want you to be able to take it off me at home later.”

“Oh hell yes I will,” Rory growled.  He pulled Noa against his chest and turned them both away from the other man.  “You good?” he muttered, breath warm on her skin.  “I was watching.  Everyone thinks you could have a new career as an agent if you wanted.”  

Noa laughed. Some of the adrenaline was fading, but instead of feeling stressed or exhausted, she was still energized.  “Do you have to do anything about him?” she asked, nodding down towards the ground.  “Cause I want to go home with you and show you just how ‘good’ I am.”  She climbed up on her tip toes to whisper in Rory’s ear and his pupils blew wide.  

“Yeah.  Umm . . . yeah,” he stuttered.  “Just uhh, need to tell Jack . . . yeah.”  Rory grabbed her hand and started to pull her away back into the bar and then stopped. He took her face in hands and gave her a comprehensive kiss, the kind he normally saved for the bedroom and not in public with his coworkers watching.  “Okay.  Now we can go.”  Without another glance backwards he took Noa’s hand.

After they were gone, the man Noa had taken down finally stumbled to his feet and then down the stairs into the alley.  No way was he going anywhere near that bar again.  When he stopped to bend over and vomit up more beer, the noise was loud enough to startle the two men making out behind a dumpster.

Adam’s shirt was untucked and he’d just opened Avery’s belt and fly when the sound of retching made them stop what they were doing.  Avery wondered for half a second if he should go see what the guy’s problem was - not that he was exactly in a position to move.  But when the guy lurched off in the other direction and Calder moved his hands back to what he’d been doing, all the beer he’d drunk helped Avery not care anymore.  The beer also helped him not care about how wildly out of character this was for him, or the niggling voice at the back of his head that doing anything with Adam Calder was a very bad idea.  Damn the guy for knowing how to use his hands and mouth so well.  

Avery let himself get caught up again, ignoring the way the alley seemed to be spinning around him whenever he closed his eyes and pushing down the stubborn pocket of air that kept trying to come up.  Burping in Adam’s mouth would be uncool, and definitely bring things to a premature halt.

Instead, Adam’s next comment did it instead.  His mouth was still busy at Avery’s neck, so the words came out in fits and starts interrupted by kisses. It took a long moment for Avery’s beer soaked brain to catch up.

“How about we . . . head somewhere else?”  Adam’s hand swooped down and Avery swore.  The other man chuckled. “Your apartment isn’t too far; we could go there if you want . . . finish this properly?” 

“What? No.” Avery pulled back abruptly.  Adam’s hair was a mess and his lips swollen, and Avery suspected he looked much the same.  But his brain was just clear enough to understand what was happening.  Again.  Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me.

Adam looked at him in confusion.  “You want to keep going here?”  He gestured around the alley. “Seems a bit . . . tawdry.”  He leaned back in, eyes hungry.  “And I know your bed is comfortable.”

Avery stepped fully away.  “Surprised you remember, since you weren’t there that long last time.”  He fumbled with his belt.  “Planning to leave before sunrise this time?”  He didn’t even bother trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. 

Adam stared at him, surprised.  “I thought you understood, sweetheart.  I mean, you were the one who agreed to come down here with me.”  

“And now I’m realizing that it was a mistake.” Avery allowed up the burp he’d been holding back, careful to turn his head away to blow it out.  His stomach churned from more than just all the beer.  He couldn’t believe he’d just fallen for Adam’s games again.

For his part, Calder didn’t seem ready to give up.  “And why was it a mistake?  We’re both adults.  We’re having fun, right?  I know I was, and you definitely seem to be enjoying yourself.”  He glanced down to the spot below Avery’s waist and his smile faltered. “I mean . . . you certainly acted like you wanted it.” 

Avery shook his head.  “We were having a nice talk in the bar; I let that cloud my . . . urp . . . judgment.”  This burp was soft, but wet, and he spit heavy saliva onto the sidewalk. “That and too much beer.”  He took a deep breath, feeling at once less drunk and more queasy - a bad combination.  “The thing is,” he began, swallowing down his nausea.  “The thing is, Adam, I’m not . . . doing this again.  Ever.”  He had to stop to belch into his fist before continuing. “And if I somehow gave you the wrong idea, I’m sorry.  But I’ve got no interest in being fucked and then ghosted and then having to make pleasant conversation the next time Rory and Noa have a dinner party.”  Speech over, he let out his breath.  His belly whined and rolled and he felt sick, but he kept his back straight and gaze trained on Adam Calder, watching as understanding flashed over his face.  

And then his expression shuttered.  “Well, I appreciate you making that clear then.  Crystal clear, actually.”  Adam carefully tucked his shirt back into his khaki pants.  “I will not make that mistake again, I assure you.” The man’s lips tightened and for a second Avery thought he was going to say something else. Instead, he glanced up the stairs in the direction of the bar.  “Tell my sister I had to leave; that something came up.”  A small, sardonic smile crossed his lips.  “She’ll understand.”

“Adam, I . . .” Avery began.  He wasn’t even sure what he meant to say and anyway, he felt like he needed to puke.  Adam held up his hand.  

“No; I get it.  Don’t worry about it.”  Adam’s voice had lost all emotion.  He turned away in the direction the earlier drunk had gone.  “Have a good night,” he mumbled.  At least, that’s what Avery assumed he’d said.  Because for a second it sounded like the guy had told him to have a good life.

The figure disappeared around a corner.  Avery waited another beat, and then another, before bending forward and bracing his hands on his knees.  The burp came up almost immediately, harsh and brassy, and then he retched, vomiting a gush of stale beer onto the cobblestone street.  Was there anything lonelier, he wondered as his stomach continued to purge, than throwing up alone in a bar?  Avery didn’t think so.  

After a final heave, he straightened up and wiped his hand across the back of his mouth.  He could go back into the bar, he supposed.  Join his friends and make up an excuse why Adam had left.  But Noa at least would see right through him.  Rory too, probably.  And Avery did not have the energy for that right now.  He knew he'd done the right thing. Well, tomorrow he'd know he'd done the right thing. So he waited another minute to make sure Adam would have had time to find an Uber and then headed down the alley himself.  His bed was comfortable; Adam hadn’t been wrong about that.  It just felt very empty right now too.

[sickskz]

A heart too full (of whiskey?)

Okay y’all, my first time ever writing anything for TXT 👀

So yeah, I went back and rewatched the suchwita episode with Taehyun and Yeonjun just to write a short story on it…. ❤️

Here it is, drunk Yeonjun gets sick in the car on the way back and Taehyun who does everything he can to make him feel better. God, I love drunk Yeonjun.

Ps: haven’t proof read this before posting it… hope it’s okay either way🙏🏽

Whumpee: Yeonjun

Caretaker: Taehyun

___________________________________________

They had a good time.

At least, Yeonjun was pretty sure they had a good time.

He had started off mindful of his alcohol intake, fully aware of the cameras pointed at him and his responsibility to stay somewhat composed. But as the whiskey flowed through Yeonjuns veins, his resolve all but melted away. He was accompanied by people he trusted, after all.

No matter how much he drank, his glass never seemed to empty. Someone kept refilling it, though he wasn’t entirely sure who. Was it Yoongi?

He didn’t know how much he had, all he knew was that he was drunk.

If he wasn’t already so far gone, he would be more embarrassed by the fact. Especially since Yoongi had already declared that Yeonjun held his liquor well at the start of the interview.

If a sober Yeonjun could see his currently drunk self in a third person perspective, he’d probably object to Yoongis claim before it even left his lips.

His thoughts were all blurred together, words slipping from his lips before his brain had finished putting them together to form a coherent sentence.

Yeonjun thought he was making sense for a moment, but then he quickly realised he wasn’t. Not even close. He kept starting a sentence and then forgetting whatever point he was trying to make, leaving him to stutter aimlessly.

At least Yoongi thought he was cute..

Out of the cameras view, Taehyun gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze every now and again. Partially to comfort him, but mostly to keep him awake, probably.

When Taehyun and Yoongi finally shook hands to wrap up the episode, Yeonjun couldn’t do much but try to keep himself from falling over and going to sleep right then and there. The weight of the alcohol was like a heavy fog, weighing him down and making every move feel sluggish. He watched Taehyun and Yoongi, saw their mouths move, but he couldn’t register half of what they were saying.

As the cameras finally stopped rolling, Yeonjun tipped forward, folding his arms on the table and resting his head heavily against them.

Yoongi was quick to react, reaching over the table to nudge him. “Yeonjun, you sure you’re good?” He glanced at Taehyun, who was already moving to stand from his chair with a deflated sigh.

Yeonjun made a vague attempt at nodding, though it was far from convincing. When Taehyun pulled him upright, he swayed dangerously, barely able to keep himself from slumping over again. “‘M gooood..” he slurred, head lolling to the side as he shot their senior a wobbly thumbs up. “Promise.”

“Right.” Taehyun scoffed half-heartedly, moving behind Yeonjun and steadying him by his shoulders. “Let’s get you home, hyung..”

Yeonjun wasn’t sure how it happened, but when he blinked, he was suddenly in the back of a car. He groaned, feeling his stomach churning uneasily from the gentle rocking of the vehicle.

“Hyung, are you awake?” Taehyun spoke up beside him, and Yeonjun felt a hand rub his back in a reassuring gesture.

Yeonjun squeezed his eyes shut before forcing them open again, his gaze unfocused. “I.. kinda.” He leaned back in his seat, feeling his joints cracking after being slouched over the way he had been.

Yeonjuns head felt woozy, and as he straightened his shoulders, a wave of nausea crashed over him. It hit him full force, amplifying with each and every little bump in the road.

The steady swerving of the car probably wouldn’t have been much of a problem if it wasn’t for the whiskey and food blended together to a hellish concoction in his gut.

Yeonjuns face twisted with discomfort, and he pressed a hand to his stomach in a lousy attempt to steady it. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t do much.

“-ng? Hyung? Hey-“ Taehyun had moved himself closer to Yeonjuns side, clearly sensing that something was amiss. He practically watched the colour drain from the Yeonjuns face in real time, his complexion nearly blending into the grey of his hoodie. “Are you gonna be sick?”

Yeonjun barely had time to register the question before his stomach lurched forcefully, answering it for him.

Taehyuns eyes widened in alarm, but thankfully, he was prepared. The ‘final parting gift’ from Yoongi, a plastic bag, was already in his hands, and he shoved it under Yeonjuns chin just in time to avoid a mess.

The first wave tore through Yeonjuns body recklessly, followed by another, and another...

Taehyuns grimaced, his lips pressing into a thin line as the sound of Yeonjun spilling his guts filled the car. The sharp smell of stomach acid made his eyes sting, but he exhaled through his nose and kept the bag steady.

“Aigoo” Taehyun murmured sympathetically, moving his free hand to rub soothing circles across Yeonjuns trembling neck.

A couple of minutes passed before the heaves slowed to shaky breaths. Yeonjun slumped back in his seat, his head thumping against the headrest. His arms wrapped around his midsection and he groaned softly, eyes slipping shut.

“Woow, that… sucked” he muttered, his voice a little scratchy.

So much for Yoongi making him eat more before they left, it clearly didn’t help sober him up.

Taehyun carefully tied the bag, disposing of it into a larger trash bag to deal with later. His focus quickly shifted back to Yeonjun, and his expression softened at the sight of him.

Yeonjuns eyes were bleary with tears, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. Sweat-slicked hair clung to the side of his face, a clear sign of how much effort it had taken him to purge out his stomach.

The vulnerability in his posture hit Taehyun harder than he expected, his heart clenching tightly in his chest.

For a moment, Taehyun didn’t speak, simply reaching up a hand to tenderly push a damp lock of hair behind Yeonjuns ear.

Then, he carefully slid an arm around the older mans shoulders, pulling him against his side. Yeonjun just about melted into his touch, his body going slack and his head dropping onto Taehyuns shoulder.

“It’s okay..” Taehyun murmured, feeling the slight tremble that remained in Yeonjuns shoulders. It was probably just the aftershock of the nausea or the exhaustion creeping in or-

Yeonjuns breath hitched.

Not in a way that made Taehyun particularly worried he was about to hurl again though. No, this sounded different. Softer, shakier almost.

Taehyuns expression faltered, his eyes widening as the realisation dawned on him.

Was Yeonjun… crying?

“Hey… Yeonjun-hyung” Taehyun tried cautiously, his voice gentle yet uncertain. “What’s…. What’s wrong?”

When he got no response, Taehyun leaned forward in his seat, craning his neck to try and get a glimpse of Yeonjuns face. Even in the dimly lit space, he could see the glistening tears running down his cheeks, and the way his pouty lips trembled ever so slightly.

“Hey” Taehyun called again, a little more urgency in his voice as he tightened his grip on Yeonjuns shoulder. “Talk to me.. do you feel sick? Why are you crying, Yeonjunie?”

This time, Yeonjun finally responded. He lifted his head just enough for their eyes to meet, and Taehyun was struck with the most adorably dazed, doe-eyed expression he’d ever seen.

Taehyun had to bite back a small smile, affection blooming in his chest at the sight. Yeonjun looked so completely out of it, so heartbreakingly fragile in his drunken stupor. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, the younger of the two lifted his hand again to gingerly wipe some stray tears off his hyungs cheeks.

“I-I” Yeonjun hiccuped, his lips wobbly as another broken sob tore through him. “I’m ju-just so gratefuuuuuulll.”

Yeonjuns head dropped forward without warning, and Taehyun caught it in his hand with reflexes that impressed even himself.

With a resigned sigh, he pushed against Yeonjuns head until it was propped securely back on his shoulder.

Okay. Right.

No need to panic.

Yeonjun was still just ridiculously drunk..

“This again?" Taehyun teased lightly, his lips curling into an amused smirk as his worry slowly eased away. “Junie, I thought you already emptied out your heart for MOA back with Yoongi-hyung earlier..”

“Nooo, my h-heart… my heart is s-so fuullllll” Yeonjun wailed, slinging his arm lazily over Taehyuns chest as he pressed himself closer, gripping into his shoulder like his life depended on it. “n…’tis not MOA… I-I mean, I’m.. l-love MOA, but.. I mean yoooou”

Taehyun felt his lips tug into a small smile, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise. Yeonjun had already had a rant about how grateful he was for Taehyun and his support today. Had Yeonjun really forgotten everything he had said just moments ago when they were filming the episode?

A little amused, Taehyun decided to play along. It wasn’t like Yeonjun was going to remember any of this tomorrow anyways.

“Me?” Taehyun quipped, leaning back against the headrest as Yeonjun clung to him, almost like he was afraid he’d disappear if he let go.

“Yeeaaaah, you, and-and Soooobin… Kai,-hic-Gyu…” Yeonjun continued, breath hitching incessantly with each sob. “You-you juss..” he paused for a moment, and Taehyun almost thought he’d passed out. But then, the wailing resumed. “Taehyuniiiiieeeee, I lo-loove you so much- you’re s-so greeaaat.. p-please never leeeaaave”

Before Taehyun could process the drunken declarations, he realised that the car had come to a halt. The driver was glancing back at them with a deadpan expression, clearly unimpressed by the ridiculous scene unfolding in the backseat.

With an apologetic smile, Taehyun lifted his finger, silently signalling that he needed juuuust a moment longer to calm Yeonjun down.

“-cuz you’re all sso sweet and cjuuuute and grahsgsgh, Taehyunieeee always love meeee” Yeonjun blabbered on, his words slurring as his tears soaked into the fabric of Taehyuns shirt.

Taehyun watched him, a little dumbfounded. He really hadn't seen Yeonjun like this in quite some time.

“Hyuuung~” Taehyun cooed, the sweetness in his voice instantly silencing Yeonjuns drunken rambling. The older man blinked at him with teary eyes, waiting expectantly for him to continue.

Pft. Too easy.

Taehyun couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped past his lips. “Yeonjunie, we’re home” he said gently, his voice soft and soothing, almost as if he was speaking to a child.

Taehyun knew exactly how to reach through to a drunk Yeonjun, and sweet, tender affection was always the key.

As Yeonjuns lips started to quiver again, Taehyun quickly distracted him by poking his cheek with his finger. “Ah-ah” he smiled fondly and took Yeonjuns hand in his, preparing to open the car door.

“Let’s get inside, alright? I’ll help you, don’t worry.”

Reluctantly, but with a soft smile, Taehyun lifted Yeonjun’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against his knuckles. Yeonjuns eyes widened in awe, a dopey grin spreading across his face as though Taehyun had just saved the world with one simple gesture.

“Waaahhh…” Yeonjun sighed, staring at him with an almost childlike wonder. “Waooow…so cute.”

Taehyun chuckled, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation. Yoongi was right, he was pretty damn cute.

Taehyun briefly considered what he would tell Yoongi about their journey home, what details he’d give him insight on. He definitely owed him a thank him for the quick-witted decision of bringing a plastic bag, as it spared them a bigger mess..

Tomorrow would be a fresh start, and Yeonjuns memories of the car ride would likely be wiped clean by then.

For now, Taehyun decided to take full advantage of Yeonjuns dazed and easily distracted state, just long enough to get him safely to bed for the night.

One unsteady step at a time.

[guess568]

I'm drunk and horny, there's half a bottle of wine left if you want me to drink it and possibly puke it up dm me.

[danafeelingsick]

out of all of the g.enshin men, k.aeya might be the one i'd give the kink™. it just suits him, with how much he talks about drinking wine and how flirty he is.

i just love to imagine him taking a date out for drinks, and of course it wasn't his plan from the start, but what if he accidentally overdid it on the alcohol. then you, his date, would have to, you know, take care of him? hold his hair while he empties his stomach into the tavern's restroom, rubbing his back and holding him so he doesn't fall over or miss the toilet. it seems the booze makes even bolder than what he is usually, the noises he makes are downright shameless, almost like he's overacting them.

he might just let you rub his belly too, whining that his clothes, his corset and leggings, are way too tight, then undoing a button or two. he doesn't miss the way you look at him either. he might lean on you, and let you comfort him after the downright disgusting experience. well, maybe for you. when he's done, he lets you walk him home, resting his head on your shoulders, joking about puking all over you. of course, he has enough control of the situation to not let this happen, even though he is hiccuping and slurring every word. you almost think he might want this to happen~

[emeto-queen]

May be a long shot and will delete later but I’m drunk and I want some attention if anyone’s got any to give 🥺🙈

[writing-whump]

Drunk at New Years

Arnie gets drunk on New Years after a fight with Hector. Angst, vomiting, comfort.

Hector was worried.

For the last couple of hours he alternated between angrily pacing the room and dialing Arnie's number. It was half three in the morning on New Years and Arnie was not picking up.

When he got back, Hector would tear him into two pieces.

It was the first New Years Hector and Arnie fought. Really, it was rather rare for them to fight at all.

Hector was acutely aware his brother was human since he was very small. You could simply not treat a human kid like you would a pup. Since that realization settled in, Hector couldn't help but feel Arnie was incredibly fragile. Wouldn't heal, couldn't jump, couldn't compete with his strength against a wolf even if he got combat training.

And Hector hated wolves from their pack didn't treat humans well. Heck, he himself didn't think much of them - useless, weak little things that ruled the world just because of their sheer numbers and fondness for explosive devices.

But Arnie was different. The kid was tough as nails underneath the frail human body. He used the clarity of his human mind, unburdened by aggressive shadow that would heighten every emotion and make it unignorable, to make long-term schemes, acute observations and was capable of incredible concentration.

Not to mention being able to use words like knifes. Hector had never met anyone who could shred even wolves to pieces with just a few words and precise observations.

Arnie was tough. But he was still human. And human kids of 18 didn't run around a city of almost 2 million people and countless wolf packs at night, at New Years, when everyone was drank and dangerously out of control.

He tried calling again, but although it rang, no one picked up.

That's when he heard the clittering of keys at the door.

Hector hurried over as it opened, his little brother stumbling inside.

His blond hair was tousled out of its styled form, his emerald green eyes feverishly glassy and he had that dumb smiley expression Hector had seen on many drunks.

The worry immediately replaced disgust as he frowned in disapproval.

"Oh, hey. You still up. What a bummer," Arnie said, swaying and closing the door behind him with a giggle.

"Where the hell have you been?" Hector said, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Here and there. Found a really tasty place and lots of happy people being willing to be happy with you. It was fuuuun."

Hector's nose scrunched as he breathed in the smell of beer clinging to his brother. "You know I don't approve of alcohol. You look pathetic as fuck."

Arnie's eyes widened before he grinned again, the arrogant prick. "Yeah, I know. What about you just...run along and go to sleep? Don't mess up your precious schedule. As you can see, I'm too intoxicated to properly enjoy your scolding," he laughed again, a little hysteric at the end. "Or maybe it's a good time, cause there is three of you so the lecture will-brrrrrrrp- multiply." He all but sang the last word, shaking off his boots.

"Fine. We'll talk in the morning."

Arnie threw his coat to the ground, muffling a burp against his fist. "Oh, he wants to talk all of sudden. That will be a milestone after two weeks of silent treatment."

Hector rolled his eyes, leaving Arnie to his drunken stumbling.

The comment stung, because it was true.

Arnie went behind his back and talked with Isaiah.

Okay, to be fair, it wasn't behind his back, but it was against his wishes. Surely Hector was justified in feeling angry?

Arnie accused him of not trying enough and that he should admit to missing Isaiah too and make minimal effort. That the meeting went well, that Isaiah was glad to see him.

Hector told him he was pathetic, annoying someone who was clearly not interested, abandoning them. He couldn't stand that Arnie had a good time with Isaiah, that their oldest brother welcomed him with open arms while he treated Hector with such coldness.

Arnie just grimaced at the words. "If you made any effort at all instead of your usual anger, pride and wolf posturing, we could have had him back years ago."

Hector said nothing, fighting down his shadow's immediate angry reaction. He was used to getting his way with his pack - he was the branch leader in Vienna after all. It was weird he could not react to dissent the way he wanted. But he wouldn't go so low as to pull his shadow at his human brother.

So he simply held his tongue and their silence at home began.

It was deserved. He would simply wait for an apology.

It was also way more unnerving than he expected.

Seemed Arnie was hellbent on proving that waiting for apologizes was futile.

Hector went to get a glass of water, skin on his arms tingling with relief and nerves. It wasn't like Arnie to be this irresponsible though. Hell, all human dangers in this city applied for him. What if he got mugged on the way? Or stumbled upon a drunken group of troublemakers who would hurt him? What if he got hit by a car?

Not to mention Arnie's vulnerability as a human to a wolf leader of a powerful pack branch - any pack could take the opportunity and kidnap him to have leverage over Hector. Arnie was normally watchful and knew how to hide, run, fight back or call for him - but not when he was so out of it.

Acting like a child, truly. What a stupid way to have a tantrum.

Could 18 years old be grounded? Arnie was still a teenager, right? Birthdays were stupid and didn't change someone's maturity anyway.

Hector switched the lights off in the kitchen, heading to his room to sleep as Arnie told him, when a loud moan stopped him in his tracks.

The little bathroom that just had a toilet and a sink was open and alight and he could hear Arnie's erratic breathing.

Yeah, Arnie didn't drink or get out of control or do any of those rebellious teenager stuff. He was too smart and mature for that. No way he would take the alcohol well with his fragile weak human constitution.

Hector wanted to leave him to it. Just desserts for being stupid and worrying the hell out of him for an argument they didn't have to have.

But he heard Arnie spitting into the water and another soft groan echoed against the tiles.

Before Hector made a conscious decision, his legs led him right to small bathroom. He braced against the doorframe.

Arnie was draped over the toilet, all drunken humor gone now. His arms were folded over the rim, cushioning his forehead, face turned towards the water. His legs hugged the porcelain from each side.

"Alcohol's not so fun going up, huh?" Hector gloated.

Arnie burped loudly, sound echoing in the toilet. "Go...go the -buuuurrgg- fuck away." His voice was strained, punctured by another belch.

Hector rolled his eyes, though Arnie didn't see it, face still turned inwards toward the bowl. His shoulders heaved heavily as he breathed in anticipation, sweat clinging to the back of his shirt and neck. His hair wasn't holding at all, too sweaty and greasy, falling into his face. It was long enough to brush against his cheeks and chin.

Hector stepped away to go into the big bathroom, opening Arnie's cupboard. There was the hair tie. Arnie had the weirdest collection of hair accessories and sprays and gels and whatnot.

He returned to the smaller bathroom, crouching down next to Arnie. His position didn't change, only his breathing picked up a little.

Hector gently gathered the hair from both sides of his face to tie it up in a tiny ball at the back of his head.

Arnie winced at the contact, another little moan escaping him.

"Stop fighting it," Hector said with a sigh, leaning back against the wall. The space was small, they were crowded like this in the small quarters.

"Go away," Arnie repeated, voice raspy and small, like he was about to cry. Hector's heart squeezed at the sound, despite how disgusting the situation was.

"Don't tell me what to do," Hector said, planing a hand in the middle of Arnie's back. "Just get it up already. It will happen anyway, better to get rid of it and go to sleep. It's the quickest cure ever."

"How...how would you know? You were never drunk before." Arnie spit some more into the bowl, eyes squeezing shut. He was red in the face, lips pressed tightly together.

"Sure was," Hector said, rubbing little circles into Arnie's sweaty back. "Isaiah made me drink at home when I was 14. Wanted me to know how my shadow would react and what it would feel like to have too much." It was a very educational move in hindsight. Hector drank his weight in wine and then spend the night and better part of the next day heaving over the toilet.

Alcohol was definitely not worth it in his book.

Isaiah sat beside him every damn minute, not complaining once. Making him drink lemon water, so Hector didn't even get a headache.

It pained him to remember that although he appreciated the memory. He could even laugh about it, if it wasn't so bitter.

No one had done the same thing for Arnie. Isaiah wasn't there anymore when Arnie reached that age. Maybe this was Hector's responsibility.

Arnie's breathing grew even faster and he burped, his shoulders tensing under Hector's hand. He nuzzled his head against his crossed hands over the rim, groaning pitifully. "I don't wanna throw up."

"You are too queasy to have a choice," Hector admonished. Jesus, this was taking long. They would be here all night at this pace.

"And you are a stubborn mule," he muttered, lifting his hand away. Instead of the rubbing, he patted Arnie on the upper back. Hard.

Arnie's shoulders hitched and he gagged, a mouthful of liquid hitting the water. He lifted his head a little in shock. "What-"

Hector patted him again and this time Arnie heaved up a bigger wave of yellow liquid. And then it seemed to be set off well.

Arnie groaned with each next wave, whole back arching. His body was too forceful about expelling the poison to let him protest anymore. Each wave was more violent, to the point Hector wondered how many beers he could have fitted in there.

When Arnie heaved for the fifth time, it got smaller again. He breathed heavily, hands gripping the rim of the toilet.

Hector went from patting to rubbing wide circles into his back.

When Arnie lifted his head in a slight break between vomiting he looked terrible. Drool all over his chin, tears streaming down his face and mixing with snot from his nose.

"That's disgusting," Hector said, rolling up some toilet paper to wipe the mess on his chin, before taking another and holding it against Arnie's nose. "Blow."

Arnie listened this time, loudly blowing his nose into the paper.

Hector flushed the toilet, not that it helped much against the pukey smell, even though they let the door open. "How are we doing? Any better?"

Arnie moaned, hands wrapping around his middle, forehead pressing against the rim. "You did that on purpose."

"Yeah, and it helped, so shut up. You feel like you are done?" Hector took some more toilet paper to mop Arnie's sweaty back.

Arnie burped, then scrambled back against the toilet as another gush flew out of his mouth. It was chunkier this time, like he finally reached the food part of his digestive system.

Hector grimaced, gripping one of Arnie's shoulders so he wouldn't smash his head against the toilet with the force of the heaves, while he went to rubbing his back with the other. "Okay, okay. Just get it up. You are okay."

The next round was more like projectile shooting, involuntary and powerful. Arnie just heaved and heaved, vomit more brown than before, tears streaming down his cheeks again, which Hector found the most excruciating part, beside the smell.

It was almost 4 am till Arnie's vomiting tempered off a bit and he leaned against the wall from the side, dozing off from exhaustion when he wasn't gulping down emptily. Hector decided that looked safe enough to change positions.

"Okay, champ. Come on, get up." Hector grabbed him under the armpits to lift him up. Arnie swayed in his hold, leaning against his chest but followed obediently.

Hector manoeuvred his arm around his neck and dragged him out, getting him into the guest bedroom, the closest one to the bathroom.

Arnie curled up on the bed, nuzzling his face and signing his relief at the touch of the mattress.

"Strip out of those clothes. Come on, pipsqueak, help me here."

Arnie just groaned, hands wrapping tightly around his middle, face against he matrass to block out the light.

Hector sighed, grabbing his sweaty shirt and pulling it off, continuing with the pants. He got Arnie's pyjamas from his room and helped him get in before throwing the covers over him, getting the trashcan to the side of his head. Last touch was getting the windows wide open to get some clean fresh air.

Hector settled next to Arnie on his back over the covers in exhaustion, not feeling like changing himself. What a way to spend the New Years.

"The trashcan is right next to you on the nightstand. Don't miss it," he told him.

Arnie squirmed, tugging the covers closer against the cold night air. He squinted his eyes at Hector in the dark, the green shining like a cat's.

"You still angry?" he asked in a small voice.

"Yeah. No. I don't know. Just get some sleep. You will feel better soon."

Arnie said nothing watching him further, a soft airy burp escaping him. He put a hand over his mouth, as if to muffle it.

Hector sighed, lifting himself up on his arms in anticipation to get the trashcan. "If you need to throw up-"

The next sound Arnie made sounded more like a sob though. That made him freeze.

Arnie's shoulders were shaking and he curled on on his side into a ball, tears streaming down his face.

"Hey, hey, hey. None of that. Hey. What's wrong?" Hector felt his voice lowering and softening immediately at the sight, reaching out his hand to plant it on the side of Arnie's face, combing his fingers through the greasy blond hair.

"Pipsqueak, come on. Talk to me. Everything is alright. You are fine, everything's fine. I'm not angry," he said quickly, feeling helpless.

Arnie just shook his head, crying harder, chest shaking with sobs and hiccups.

"Hey. I think you might be a whiny drunk, you know? It's okay. Not your fault. It will go away."

"Why....why can't I-" Arnie hiccuped, face glistening with tears as they run down his chin and dripped down his neck. "Why can't I have you both?"

Hector winced, reminded of the ball of gnarled hurt and anger and confusion he felt whenever Isaiah was mentioned.

It wasn't fair Arnie could forgive so easily. It wasn't fair Isaiah didn't care about him the same way as he did for Arnie. It wasn't fair Hector made it harder for both of them with how he felt.

"You are not losing me, pipsqueak. I'm not going anywhere," he promised in a rough voice, cupping Arnie's nape and tugging him forward against his chest.

Arnie cried and cried, snuggling deep into into his shirt as Hector wrapped his arms around his shaky frame.

They stayed like that until Arnie ran out of tears - most of them covering the front of Hector's shirt - and dozed off, breathing softly, the smell of cheap beer and puke breath still radiating off him like bad perfume.

@bellysoupset

[how-much-for-a-whump]

WHUMPTOBER day 29:

Prompt: "What happened to me?"

Kurak Günler (2022)

[yuurei]

already dreading new years bc i have to go out drinking w friends <_> i think i would actually enjoy it if i had a say in how much i wanna drink.. agh. guh. AOUGH OUGH.. sorry coughing a lot lately. maybe im getting sick.. would be a shame..

[eyluvu]

i puked last night outside the pub and this girl from my high school who ive basically never talked to came up to me and held my hair and rubbed my back and arms and called me darling like oh hey.. what are we

[veneficasum]

there's NOTHING more Los Campesinos!core than going to London alone for the Valentine's day show but then throwing up at the venue during the last song, then again in the tube, then again at 3am. LOS CAMPESINOS! IS FOR LOSERS

[mallalada]

me: im over bleach

the new series: iconic 80s twang original bleach soundtrack with drippy new electric guitar riffs

my entire dick: ⬆️⬆️⬆️

[sickficideas]

ok hi hello! Sick Skk Hc. Hear me out- TW// vomit, alcohol stuff

So, a big hc in the bsd is that chuuya likes wine. So he gets drunk, they call Dazai to come pick him up. Dazais ok walking distance so he just walks, he scoops him up, chuuya absolutely shit faced drunk and half asleep. Dazai carries him and begins taking him home to chuuyas house. Chuuyas mostly asleep but the shaking and the alcohol makes him feel pretty sick so he ends up puking over dazais shoulder. It sobers him up a bit so he’s really embarrassed snd thinks he’s gonna stop him or something but Dazai (bros into it. Come on. Look at him.) just pulls him close patting his back reassuring him it’s ok and he doesn’t mind. ANYWAY. Thought about that through my entire college lectures- so- do with it as you will. I love your work btw ❤️, have a good day! :3 -Ray

(thank you so much you're very kind😭😭💖) this is fantastic anon I think drunk/hungover chuuya is so perfect and i totally think it makes him puke every time he overdoes it even just a little. he's lucky dazai doesn't mind at all lol (he def likes seeing him all sweaty and out of it). chuuya getting worked up over it as he starts sobering up and dazai reassuring him is so sweet 😭😭 i think he'd take good care of him💔 lay with him in bed and rub his tummy to help him feel better even though he said hours ago he's leaving to go home, and he'll stay in the morning when hes hungover too 💔

[ofpd]

fun fact about me is when i was 13 i was extremely miserable and i vomited like every few months like i'd just have these likely psychosomatic illnesses so often and i haven't ever done that since then

[tidekpr]

🤢 hold my muse’s hair back/rub my muse’s back while they are sick/throwing up (yeah — IDK why, but blamore just strikes me as being like that 'girl in the bathroom that holds your hair back when you're drunk,' except this situation might be different JSJS but yeah)

Nonverbal Starters || Accepting!

It was only thanks to the stranger's help that they were able to haul themself the rest of the way out of the water and up onto the dock, this stranger that smelled faintly of earth and landborne plant life. The indigo and white sharklike form that made up their lower half slowly shifted to a pair of legs, leaving Vithren crouched on the creaking wood on all fours.

What was sloshing below the docks was less sea water and more a noxious chemical soup– unfit to sustain any life, and the deity was no exception. Whatever this island-city was, the state of the seas around it was abhorrent: even though they were no longer in it, they were left feeling sick and weak… sick enough that their stomach lurched and they leaned forward, spilling something black onto the planks. There was a touch at the back of their neck, and they realized the stranger was thoughtful enough to hold their long hair away from the mess. They heaved again, spitting at the black substance that clung to their lips.

After another moment, they sucked in a breath and sat up slowly, still feeling their arms trembling. They cleared their throat and spit one more time before cutting their gaze to the stranger.

“Thank you.. for your help,” they said quietly. They turned their head to look at the dark sea lapping at the concrete barricades. “This place is… I’ve never felt the water in such a horrible condition. How anything can live here is beyond me.”

[jakeabel]

omg… baby’s first drunken* vomit…….

[isdalinarhot]

your health teacher is lying to you when she’s like “have a meal before drinking heavily :)” that’s just propaganda to make you barf your guts out on shot 5 whilst feeling completely sober. do you think Sadeas ever held Dalinar’s mullet back while he got sick in the back of a shady alleyway