#emetaphobia

[rrat-king]

ok this is. a little gross but i have a theory that in most friend groups that there is usually someone who is emetaphobic/cannot stand throw up and their good friend: a known vomiter. in the bad kids i know in my heart of hearts that adaine is deeply deeply anxious about vomit and that riz. is canonically a known vomiter

[eldritchposts]

now to ponder the question... "was I throwing up because of the alcohol?" (unlikely as it has been fucking 7 hours and im not hungover) "or was it that fucked up tasting stir fry i had with the new sauce?"

[bugswarm]

So, I have a severe phobia of people being sick. Like SEVERE phobia. Collapse to the group and scream and hyperventilate if someone gets sick around me levels of phobia.

And my coworker just made a sound to imitate that action about a news headline he read and. Im at work. I can’t have a panic attack here. Im only here for a few more minutes luckily but I am struggling to not sob at my desk right now and Im all shaky and my breath hurts. And just. I don’t know how to tell my coworker he needs to never do that ever again around me.

Im usually really good at advocating for myself and my mental health but this is like, the one thing where once Im already all fucked up about it, Im just. Incapable of doing that. Right now Im pretty sure if I so much as spoke Id end up crying immediately. So I just. I don’t know what to do. How do I make sure he knows to not do that again?

[angel-lovr]

eating in public and finishing and feeling full, then feeling like intense guilt and sadness and wanting to be empty/throw up, but the feeling of fullness triggers your phobia of vomiting for how it makes your stomach feel so you can't eat more you can't throw it up and u kinda just gotta sit there all quiet and sad like 😀

[feral-cockroach]

PLEASEEEE TELL ME THE THUNDER SPEARS WERE SUCCESSFUL IM GONNA YHROW UP

[unripe-lemon]

lil graphic warning for any emetaphobes

that feeling when you have a rlly bad stuck burp and ur panicking a LOT about it but you cant hyperventilate bc that might actually make you throw up AND THEN THE feeling of RELIEF when you FINALLY BURP AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[twnpkdinhighschool]

I follow this girl on tiktok and she recently posted about her emetaphobia in the past tense and everyone was in the comments like

“omg how did you get past it??”

And her reply to each of them was “I threw up”

[clawsextended]

couldn’t sleep until 330 am. have a panic attack @ 330 am. barf my guts up. finally fall asleep at 4. wake up at 7. wake up again @ 8. wake up finally @ 9 and decide to be Awake. i am a Living Zombie this fine day.

[shamelessshepherd]

Gooooddddd I’m so tired and exhausted

[yandereshingeki]

work was. interesting today

[nerdlytreasure]

Emetophobia warning for Dimension 20 A court of Fae and Flowers

Episode: Seaside Tea Time

It’s at 12:58. When Lady Chirp Featherfowl receives a reply to a letter and includes audio.

[joesheistyy]

Drunkie

TW: swearing, drinking, and emetaphobia warning!!!

hella angst and stuffs

It was game day in Cincinnati, and you were so excited to go with your best friend and her boyfriend.

Your friend Charlotte was in town with her boyfriend Matthew and you all had plans to go to the big game. They were staying in an AirBnB, so the plan was to meet at the stadium, which worked out well to keep your pre game day traditions going.

Joe was getting ready for the game in the bathroom while you sat out at the vanity in your shared bedroom. You had low music playing so you did not disturb Joe. Your outfit consisted of a pair of black ripped jeans, Joe's white jersey with a hoodie under it, and a black and orange beanie. Your favorite jersey was the white one, so any opportunity to wear it was taken.

"You almost ready babe?" Joe questioned as he came out of the bathroom. You were finishing up curling your hair.

"Almost, I have like three more strands to curl. I can meet you downstairs if you want," you replied, not removing your eyes from the mirror. Joe nodded and left the room, heading downstairs to put on his shoes and gather his things for his bag.

Joe was dressed in a very well tailored suit, Bose earbuds ready to go for his walk into the stadium. Something about Joe in a suit set your insides on fire.

You made your way downstairs after making sure your curling wand was unplugged at least six times. Joe was usually pretty quiet before games, not wanting to disturb the game day headspace.

You gathered your items in your clear stadium bag as Joe started the car. You hated when people had to wait on you, so you made sure to rush to get to the car.

"Are you excited Joey?" you asked as you slid into the passenger seat of his Porsche and laid a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah I guess so, just a little nervous," he replied as he put the car in reverse, leaving the house until after the game.

Getting to the stadium early was a must for Joe before a game. Being on the quiet field before warming up helped to get him in the game day mindset.

As Joe pulled into the players parking garage, he let out a large sigh. You could tell he was nervous. Before he was able to exit the car, you grabbed his arm.

"Joe look at me," you began. He turned to face you. You grabbed his hands, "don't go out there and second guess yourself or your teammates. You all have worked so hard and you will show them who is boss. Remember to breathe, you're gonna do fine. I'm proud of you no matter what happens," you reassured him. Little pep talks like this are helpful when he seems a bit antsy.

"Thank you baby, I love you," he kissed you before exiting the car and coming around to your side of the car to open your door.

You thanked him with a kiss and walked with him into the facility.

As you made your way into the stadium, you saw Joe walking out with his headphones on. He seemed to be taking in the space before it was filled with thousands of fans cheering for him and his teammates.

You continued a small stroll around the empty seats until you decided to make your way up to the box. Joe had one for his friends and family, but tonight it was just going to be you and some friends.

Since you were there so early, you brought a book with you to read before your friends arrived. Occasionally, you would look out to the field and find Joe goofing off with his teammates. You were glad that they could cheer him up when you couldn't. Sometimes, all it took was a teammate.

Kickoff rolled around quickly and all your friends began to arrive. Hugs were given, laughs were shared, and the drinks kept coming. You never really got ragingly drunk, but your friends were incredible enablers. Not much focus was on the game, more so on the drinks.

At half time, you slowed down and sobered up a bit, hoping for a text from Joe. He rarely texted you during halftime, but sometimes it was an unexpected surprise.

Joey: Did your friends arrive?

Y/N: Yeah, we'we habing drunks

Joey: Oh really? I can tell

Y/N: Oopsies

When you saw Joe run back out to the field leading the team, you were hoping that they had a strong pep talk at the half considering that they were down 27-7 against the Browns.

The drinks kept coming, and you didn't realize how drunk you really were until you got up to go to the bathroom. You stumbled to the small stall attached to the box. While relieving yourself, you checked to see what people were saying on twitter.

They were ripping Joe to shreds. Not even taking into account the lack of help from his teammates. Games like this happen, people just love to shit talk.

You knew Joe wanted so badly to win, who wouldn't want to win? But unfortunately, the team just couldn't pull it together. The end of the game rolled around and the Bengals lost 35-24. They closed the gap a bit, yet not enough.

Since Joe was the one who drove to the game, you waited in the box for him. Your friends said their goodbyes and you were eventually left alone, waiting for Joe.

You knew he wouldn't be in a great mood, and you being absolutely shit faced was going to make things worse and you knew that.

As you sat alone, staring out into the stadium, you couldn't help but shut your eyes. The drunk sleepies were hitting.

After what felt like forever, Joe walked through the door to the box. You perked up a bit at the sound of the door opening and heavy footsteps approaching.

"Hiii Joey," you slurred and struggled to stand up.

"Hi baby," he said flatly. You went in to give him a hug, he hugged back, but not with the usual amount of squeeze back.

He began to lead you out of the box. He did a sweep of the room to make sure you didn't leave anything behind. He wrapped an arm around your waist to help you stay vertical and balanced.

Joe didn't mind having to take care of you when you were drunk, but this time was different. He wasn't happy or silly with you. WIth losing the game, you expected him to be upset, but not this upset. Maybe it was the combination of losing and having to take care of you.

As you continued the hike to the car, you kept trying to be goofy. Joe wasn't having it. His face stayed stoic and his grip on you was almost harsh.

When you got to the car, he opened your door and made sure you got in comfortably like he normally did. He swiftly walked around to the drivers side, opening his door and shutting it with a little too much force. It made you jump a little bit. He wasn't normally violent when he was upset. This of course wouldn't classify as violent for most, but Joe was not one to slam doors.

The drive home was silent besides the faint music playing from Joe's bluetooth to the car.

You shut your eyes, but that caused the spins. You tried to take deep breaths to let it pass. Opening your eyes and rolling down the window was the best bet.

Joe hated having the windows down, and he was especially afraid someone would recognize the two of you on your drive home. He rolled up your window and put on the child lock. That really made you mad.

"Joe I don't feel good. Can we please roll the window down?" you whined out.

"No, Y/N. I don't need people recognizing us driving home, especially with you in this state," he replied in a rude tone.

"Jesus Joe, I feel like I'm gonna be sick, can you just roll down the damn window?" you huffed out.

"Maybe if you wouldn't have had so much to drink, we wouldn't be in this situation," he snarked out. Your eyes darted over to him. His face was stoic. You were fuming.

No more words were exchanged on the drive home. It would only have made it worse.

Once Joe pulled into the garage, he grabbed his stuff out of the backseat and headed inside, leaving you in the car to gather your things. By the time you stumbled out of the car, the door to the house was shut and Joe was nowhere to be found.

You placed your belongings in the basket by the garage door and headed to the kitchen for some water. Or maybe a tequila shot. Who knew how long Joe would continue to be an ass.

Once you gulped down some water, you headed upstairs to change out of your cute game day outfit and into some comfy pjs. You removed your makeup and decided it was probably smart to find Joe to see if he was ok.

After searching most common rooms, you headed to where his office was located. You headed into his office and saw him watching the game over and checking twitter. There was no way in hell that would help his mood or attitude.

"What're you doing?" you ask. He spins around in his desk chair to look at you. Your body was leaned against the door frame to give yourself some stability.

"What the fuck does it look like, Y/N?" he huffed out at you.

"Jesus Joe I was just trying to check on you," you were beginning to get defensive.

"Obviously I'm pissed. I played like shit and all I get for it is having to take care of your irresponsible drunk ass," he retorted. His eyes were like daggers and you needed out.

You looked at him in disgust before leaving his office and slamming the door behind you. Joe didn't chase after you, he just turned his chair back around to back to what he was doing.

You decided to just go to bed. It wasn't worth staying up to wait for Joe to come to bed. Plus, the alcohol was really starting to make you feel like shit. You laid there for a bit with rage still filling your mind and body. But once the rage wore off, it turned to tears and you fell asleep.

After an hour or so, Joe decided to go to bed. He assumed that's where you went too, but he was hoping you were already asleep. The door creaked open to reveal you sound asleep, snores coming out of your mouth, something that only happened when you drank.

Joe walked over to your nightstand to turn out your light, but he couldn't help but notice the dried tears on your face. A pang of guilt struck him right in the heart. He knew that he was what caused those tears.

Once the light was out, he walked over to his side of the bed to climb in as easily as he could. Your back was toward him, and he knew that was a sign that you were upset. Even out of a dead sleep, you would always turn over to snuggle up to him. Joe laid in his guilt for a while until sleep took over him.

The next thing Joe knew, you were darting out of bed to get to the toilet. He knew it was best to go in after you. He knocked on the door and entered, finding your arm resting on the toilet, head on arm, and eyes closed.

Joe slowly sat down behind you, pulling you into his body and beginning to rub your back. You leaned into him, which he was honestly not expecting. He was grateful for the small sign that your relationship was okay after how he treated you.

No words were exchanged. You sat for a minute until you felt another round coming. Joe pulled your hair back as you released more alcohol.

You leaned back into his chest, a small sob wracking your body. He knew it was because of the mix of alcohol and crying yourself to sleep. Which inherently was because of his previous actions.

"I'm sorry baby, I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you," Joe admitted. You didn't move in his arms to look at him, but he could sense your body tense up at the conversation.

"I thought you didn't want to take care of my irresponsible drunk ass," you replied with quiet attitude. He held you tighter.

"Baby I'm sorry. I was just so caught up in my anger from the game and I ended up taking it out on you and you didn't deserve that," he spoke with a sigh.

"That's still not a good excuse to talk to me li-" you began before you ended up leaning back over the toilet. Joe held your hair back again, but kept his gaze toward the ground, focused on the guilt he was feeling.

Once you were done expelling more of your evening, you leaned back into Joe. The ball your body formed morphed into the way he was sitting behind you. His chin rested on top of your head in a protective way.

"Let's just talk about this in the morning when we're both in a better headspace," he said. He held you extra tight, hoping you could feel how sorry he was. He continued to rub your back, but he soon heard small snores escaping your mouth. Joe told himself that he wasn't getting up until you did. He wasn't going to leave you when you were in this state. Especially because of the way he acted earlier in the evening.

He leaned back into the cabinet and rested his head back, staring up at the ceiling. He sat with his thoughts for a bit before sleep took over, you still tightly wrapped in his arms.

You began to stir in his grasp, causing him to quickly wake up. He looked down at you to see your eyes slowly opening. You gazed up at his handsome face, meeting his pretty eyes.

"Joe, go back to bed," you demanded in your sleepy state.

"I'm not going without you, Y/N," he replied.

"Mkay," you said, leaning back into his chest.

"Do you think you're ready to go back to bed?" he asked before you got the chance to fall back asleep.

"Mhmm, just can't get up on my own," you mumbled. Joe began to move from behind you, slowly standing up and reaching for your hands. He helped you up carefully and you leaned into him once you were vertical. His hands went to your back, rubbing small circles.

"How about you brush your teeth, it'll help you sleep better," Joe suggested. You nodded into his chest as you stood up on your own to brush your teeth. Joe stood with you so he could walk you back to bed.

Once you were done, he grabbed your hand and walked you to your side of the bed, tucking you in. He began to walk toward the door.

"Joey, where are going?" you whined.

"To get you some water and ibuprofen," he replied as he walked out of the bedroom door.

You waited for Joe to get back before allowing yourself to fall asleep. He was comforting when you didn't feel well. He placed the items on your nightstand for the morning before heading to his side of the bed.

Joe gently climbed in, immediately grabbing for you. He held you close to his warm body. His big, strong, safe, and warm arms snaked around your body. You relaxed into him, feeling some small sense of normalcy.

He intently watched you until he heard snores coming from you. Your facial features were gentle, something Joe never wanted to disturb.

As Joe began to wind down his guilty thought and mind, he placed a delicate kiss to your forehead.

"I love you," he whispered.

You nuzzled up to him more as his heart fluttered, his body feeling so safe and warm. You being wrapped in his arms calmed Joe to sleep next to you. Even when mad, Joe would always try to protect you. Because in the end, its you and Joe against the world.

----

Hope y'all enjoyed! It was def better before my computer erased the last 2/3 of it *tears* <3

[kodared]

more howdy x reader angst pls

this time, no fluff >:)

(or if u want u can do the fluffs, but ur angst is yummy and like bad endings = emotions)

Wooo!! Another lovely Request! Had lots of fun writing this one, and may have projected a little bit, i also lowkey spaced out and... ended up writing some comfort LMAO

Hope you Enjoy regardless!

  Howdy Pillar X GN!Reader 

☆ UnRequited Love ll Hanahaki ☆

Content Warning!! Mentions of Sickness and Emetaphobia!

        Angst / Comfort 

Word Count: 2169

———————-

       You stared at the sky as a pleasant early Spring breeze made you bundle up more in your hoodie, Howdy was currently inside the Shop tidying up after an eventful day of customers and restocking.

        You had moved into the Town a few years back and made yourself quite comfortable as Howdys co-worker in his shop, with him needing frequent help you being his official helper was a no-brainer.

Howdy was delighted to have company in his store, and you even found yourself often visiting him when you weren’t on shift, 

        As the chill picked up, you started making your way back into the shop, but not before picking a small dandelion and fidgeting with it as you entered the store, 

You entered the Shop, the slight heat from the heater warming your skin almost instantly providing you with relief, and the bells chiming on the door made you smile as you walked further into the store. 

      “Hey howdy!” 

Howdy looked up from stocking a lower shelf of Cans, he spoke with a smile as he took off his hat to smooth down his hair as he stood to greet you,

  “‘Ello Y/N! You're free to clock out whenever!” 

You smiled warmly at Howdy before walking behind the counter and removing your apron to hang it on one of the various hooks before responding, 

“I may hang around for a bit if that's alright..! I got nothin’ to do at home anyways,” 

You shrugged as you took a seat behind the counter, already looking over the list Howdy had made for items he needed to restock the following week.

“I always appreciate your company Y/N, Stay as long as ya’ want!” 

Howdy gave you a warm smile as you looked up from the list, he had moved on from restocking cans to organizing the produce. You made note of the various bruised apples scattered on the floor, 

“...Did Wally come by?” 

You said as you attempted to stifle a laugh, 

Howdy groaned as he bent down to pick up a few of the bruised apples, 

“I love em’ but he always leaves an drops em’ in a hurry,”  

 Howdy shook his head, 

“It's as if he doesn't realize their free anyways,”   

You and Howdy settled into a comforting banter as the night went on, as the sun set you began to gather your things and begin the walk home, 

“I'll see ya’ tomorrow Howd’s!”  

You turned to wave at the tall man before leaving the store, Howdy giving you a wave as he hung up his apron and hat for the night. 

The walk home was peaceful, small fireflies danced across the skyline as the breeze made the grass sway peacefully. Your shoes crunched quietly against the gravel as you approached your house providing a comforting white noise in the peaceful night. 

You lived not too far from the Town, you regretfully made your home in the woods, and you wished most days you lived closer so it was easier to get to Howdys. 

But you supposed it wasn't all bad, you had a lovely creek by your house you often swam in during the hot summers, and the neighbors often visited you during the summer for that exact reason. 

…Even if they needed a good two or three days to dry out afterward..

You chuckled at the fond memory as you fumbled with your keys to unlock the door and enter your home. Various paintings hung on your walls that Wally had gifted you when you first moved in. 

As you entered your kitchen, you looked at the cooking equipment gifted to you by Howdy with a smile. Moving to make a bowl of soup as you grabbed the can from the cabinet. 

The night was peaceful, so you opened a few windows. Allowing the cool breeze in as you warmed your soup in the microwave, leaning against the counter as you looked at a framed picture of you and the neighborhood. 

…Your eyes lingered on Howdy for a minute or two longer than intended, the beeping of the microwave snapping you out of it quickly. 

With flushed cheeks you quickly ate your soup, trying to push away all thoughts of Howdy for the night as your stomach filled with butterflies. 

You knew one thing for certain, and that's Howdy had no romantic feelings for you. You spent many years with the man, and he told you many secrets he told no one. 

One of which was his fear of romantic relationships, he knew how it could shatter a relationship in two if it went bad. 

So after he told you this, you made no more advances toward him. Not that you had done many to begin with, just small gifts such as flowers. 

You stared off into space as you pulled out the crumpled dandelion from earlier, you stopped giving him flowers long ago, yet you still picked them for him. 

A small cough bubbled in your throat as you quickly set down the flower, placing it gently onto the counter as you set down your soup to go to the bathroom. 

—------------------

The next morning you woke to a wide array of flowers in your bathroom, you sighed and began walking into your kitchen. The abandoned soup still sat on the counter, you put the bowl in the sink and began the walk to work. 

You had no time to worry about the sudden feeling of sickness that grasped at your throat, you had to help Howdy with his work. The scratchiness that tugged at your throat certainly was proving to be irritating however. 

You arrived to work an hour late, Howdy stood worried behind the counter as he looked at you, 

“Y/N..! I was beginnin’ to send Barnaby after ya! You okay..?” 

Howdy walked from behind the counter towards you, one of his hands moving to put his hand on your head, suddenly you felt sick to your stomach and hotter than before. 

“Your burnin’ up Y/N! Why didn't ya’ call in sick!” 

You quickly stepped back from Howdy, fanning your face to provide momentary relief at the heat that spread across your cheeks. 

“M’ Fine Howd’s! Jus’ need a..-” 

Before you could finish speaking you hacked into a coughing fit. Your shoulders shook as you gripped onto your arms firmly, desperately trying to catch your breath as you felt something… Soft..? Rise in your throat. 

Howdy moved towards you, his face full of concern as he reached for you to lead you to the bathroom. Before he could get his hands on you, you ran to the bathroom. 

You sat over the sink for a few minutes before the large Flower emerged from your throat into the sink. You stood in shock at the flower. 

Gently you picked it up, the small white flowers attached to a long, slender stem. Containing multiple small flowers on one stem. 

Howdy began knocking on the door, quietly speaking through the shut door, 

“...Y/N..? Ya’ Alright? I can go call Frank if ya’ need!” 

As you looked at the flower in bewilderment, you absentmindedly nodded, before realizing Howdy couldn't see you through the shut door. 

“Uh... Yea, could you get.. Frank... I don't feel well,” 

You panted as you were finally able to catch your breath after all of the coughing, as you heard Howdys footsteps leaving to go call Frank, you couldn't help but feel dread as your throat got scratchy again. 

It only took a few minutes for Frank to arrive, frantic knocking coming from the door as you heard his familiar voice. 

“Y/N? I gathered the proper medical supplies, let me in,” 

You carefully walked away from the sink and opened the door, letting Frank step in as he took in the sight of your face. 

You were pale, paler than he had ever seen, and your mouth had lines of spit leftover from your frantic coughing fit. It was easy to see you were not feeling well. 

However, what caught him off guard was the sight of flowers in the sink where he expected you to have been coughing up bile. His eyes widened in shock. 

“..Y/N.. Have you been coughing flowers?” 

You took a minute to respond before reaching into your throat, pulling out a stray leftover flower bud from the back of your mouth. 

“....Ya think?” 

Frank would usually roll his eyes at your sarcasm, but he seemed genuinely scared as his face held panic. He quickly ushered you to sit down on the closed toilet, your legs beginning to shake from standing for so long. 

“How long have you been coughing flowers?” 

He said seriously as he looked into the sink, putting on a glove from the first aid kit he carried in and examining one of the many flowers. 

They were Babys Breath. 

       You sighed and leaned back, your stomach doing flips as you become more and more nauseous. 

“I dunno, probably a day. It started yesterday,” 

You heaved as you struggled to breathe, your head positively spinning from the lack of oxygen reaching your brain as your chest grew heavy. 

Frank looked at you with his panicked face, his once tidy hair now fraying in different directions as he approached you. 

“I need you to answer honestly. Is there anyone you have had feelings for? And don't be an idiot. When I say feelings I mean Love, this is Urgent.” 

Your head lolled off to the side as you thought, your eyes became droopy as you struggled to stay awake. You gave a simple nod as you quickly grew more and more tired, You felt Frank grab ahold of your face, making you look at him. 

“Who!? This is Urgent, Do not Lie.” 

Your head spun as you struggled to stay conscious, before muttering the name of someone who you knew was just outside the door. 

“Howdy.” 

—---------------------

You lay in Howdys bed, unconscious. You had been like this for many days, it was only a matter of time before you stopped breathing entirely. 

The day it happened Frank was the first to alert everyone, demanding for Howdy to put you in his bed for the time being, not taking the chance of leaving you to rest in your own home seeing as it was so far away. 

Wally, Eddie, and Barnaby were the first to visit, gently holding onto your hand as they consoled you, not like you could hear them anyways. 

Then came Poppy, Sally, and Julie. They spent hours pleading with you to wake up, but to no avail, at the most your breath only stuttered and stopped more. 

Howdy was the last to visit you one-on-one to everyones shock. After Frank had explained the situation and the condition you had, he felt too guilty to even look at you after he laid you to rest. 

He reserved himself to sleeping in his living room on the couch that barely fit him, it was what he deserved after all. He was the one that did this so you, if only ‘he wasn't such a coward’ he thought as he looked at you sleeping. 

You struggled to breathe as he sat near you, he didn't have the heart to tell you just how much he really did love you. 

He noticed every time you picked a flower, and every day he ached for you to give it to him, but you never did most days. He knew he was scared of relationships, but he wanted so badly to try with you to have a successful one. 

And now he would never get the chance. 

He stayed by your side for the rest of the day, gently holding onto your hand as he watched you, sometimes he would gently lay his head on your chest so he could have the momentary relief you were still breathing. 

Only for it to be shattered every time you struggled to get a successful breath. 

Eventually, at the end of the day, he had to tend to the shop. He missed your company on late nights like these, giving your hand one final squeeze, and placing the most gentle kiss on your forehead, he left the room. 

You rolled on your side a few hours after he left, breaking into a coughing fit as you watched a large flower come out of your mouth. Not paying any mind to the ringing in your ears as you sat up. 

You felt warm as you continued to cough, Howdy had heard and quickly ran into his room. Practically smothering you in a hug as he muttered incoherently. 

One word you did understand, however, 

“I love you.” 

With one final cough you felt your lungs freed from the tight grasps of stems and flowers, Howdy gently rubbing your back as you continued to cough while he cried tears of joy. 

He was so happy to have you back. 

That Summer many Amaranthus bloomed in the Garden you and Howdy shared. 

--------

WOOO BY THE MIRACLE THAT IS ME I FINISHED THIS THE NIGHT AFTER PROM, ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／ GOES CRAZY GOES STUPID,

okay enough silly LMAO, I will be working on the next Chapter of WHN this Week! Ill try to have it out probably by Thursday!

☆ Luv and appreciate u guys <3 Send more Requests my way! My AskBox is currently Empty!

[i-didnt-do-1t]

Fascinated by the idea that Oscar might say “alright. back off” to Morris when Morris is mocking or intimidating someone

also fascinated by what it would take for Oscar to tell Morris to back off

cw: violence, emetaphobia

“What?” Morris leant back casually against the wall of the alleyway as he turned the cigar over in his hand before bringing it to his lips and sucking in a mouthful of smoke and blowing it out again into Race’s face. His eyes twitched from the burn of it as he tried to pull away but Oscar had his arms held behind him, lazily tightening his grip on and off, just enough to hurt. “Got nothing to say Racer?”

Race grits his teeth and tries once more to break out of Oscar’s grip but his fingers are digging into his upper arm so hard he knows he’ll have bruises in the next few hours.

Instead he met Morris’s gaze head on, knowing that saying anything will be a bad idea but if they were going to beat the shit out of him he should at least make it worth it.

“Nah. Nothing you or your brother would understand anyway.”

Something in Morris’s eyes darkens but his lips pull up a little at the corner as he seems to look through Race, as if he’s not even there, to address Oscar.

“You hear that Oscar?” He takes another drag of Race’s cigar, and taps out the ash. “He thinks we won’t understand.”

Oscar’s grip tightens sending a sharp ache through his shoulders as they’re wretched back.

“I don’t know, Race.” Race can practically feel his breath on his ear as he speaks, low and close and dangerous, almost a whisper he can’t pull away from, one he can barely hear over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. “See what I’m understandin’ is that Kelly ain’t here to take the fall for you like he always does an’ you talk a lot of shit for someone who ain’t in no position to fight back right now.”

Race swallows hard and tries once more to dislodge Oscar’s grip but Morris just laughs, something cruel and mocking, and steps closer, shaking out his hand before he lodges his fist in Race’s stomach.

It lands just below his ribs, hard enough knock the air out of him and have him taste bile in his throat and he would’ve doubled over if Oscar weren’t still holding him upright. Instead he sputters and watches as Morris takes another drag of his cigar, blowing the smoke back at him and through the breathless haze he can’t help but choke on it, shoulder sockets aching as every cough shifts his body roughly against Oscar’s hold.

“No fuckin’ wonder your da didn’t take care a’ you.” He spits and he knows he’s being stupid as he says it but he forces the words out between wheezing breaths anyway. Enjoys the way Morris’s jaw tenses and his face darkens as he keeps going, knowing he’s hitting a nerve. Knowing he’s going to regret saying anything at all. “Surprised he didn’t drown you like fuckin’ kittens when you were kids. You lived on a farm right?”

He can’t quite remember where he picked up the information but he knows he’s right. He’s always listening in, ever the eavesdropper, and Oscar’s accent holds a little something out that way, something slightly southern when he says certain words.

Morris moves slow and casual in a way that has Race’s skin prickling, has his heart beat a mile a minute in his chest, and Oscar’s grip has shifted to something tighter, arms almost pulled out of their sockets. He doesn’t think something’s dislocated, not yet. But it’s coming close.

Morris runs his tongue over the top of his teeth and nods slowly, as if he’s processing Race’s words, but Race is more aware of the way his free hand clenches and unclenches into a fist at his side.

“Christ Race.” He says, and his voice is dangerous in a way Race hasn’t heard before. “I didn’t think you were so fuckin’ dumb but you’re always lookin’ a fight ain’t you?”

Race inhales deep as Morris takes another drag of the cigar and holds it between his teeth for a second before holding it up to his face and studying the paper label. Every movement slow and deliberate

“You think it would scar like Snyder’s cigarettes Os?”

And Race’s stomach drops.

He can feel Oscar shrug behind him. “You should find out.”

Morris meets eyes with him again, face hard and unreadable and Race is all too aware of the cigar held between his fingers. He struggles harder but knows it’s pointless. Oscar is better at this, stronger than him too.

“What do you think?” Morris says, and his voice sounds no different than it does every morning at the distribution gate. “You can go home and compare em’ with Kelly’s.”

He tries to pull away again, harsh and rough and he can hear the thump of blood in his ears- a sound that becomes muffled as he feels his left shoulder yanked out of placed and his eyes darkening at the edges at the pain that ricochets through his body. He grits out a groan between a tensed jaw which only turns into a yell and heaved breaths when Morris hits him again, sending him slumping forward.

Oscar’s hold let’s up, only for second, only so he can grab the collar of Race’s shirt from behind and pull it away from his neck, opening up the empty skin of his collarbone and shoulder.

He doesn’t know if he screams when Morris presses his cigar to his skin, holding it there. If he does it’s distant and out of body and not something he can claim as his own as his vision becomes blurred and spotted, and heat spreads from the circle of bubbling red just above his collarbone.

He can’t pull in a full breath, from the hit or from pain or from panic he’s not sure, and he’s not sure when Oscar lets him go either but he’s on the ground now trying to fill his lungs, arm at an awkward angle at his side and both Delancey’s stood above him-

Through blurred eyes he sees Morris pass the cigar to Oscar who tosses it on the ground in front of Race.

“What?” He says, and his voice is cold. “You don’t want it no more?”

Race doesn’t even have the chance to answer before someone’s foot- he doesn’t know whose anymore embeds itself in his gut.

This time he coughs up bile, sputteres it onto the cobble stones. The next kick catches his jaw and then there’s a hand in hair pulling his head up, sharp and sore, and the hit lands and he can taste blood on his teeth and in the back of his throat and he needs to throw up but he can’t, has to catch himself to breathe as another blow hits chest-

once and he’s choking-

twice and he’s on the ground and everything’s spinning and he can’t fuckin’ move or inhale and his whole body is hot radiating from the burn on his collar that feels like a gunshot and he’s burnt himself before but nothing like this, not embedded with ash or paired with the different burn of a dislocated shoulder-

and the third hit has him vomiting foam, the kind that comes up when someone has nothing thing else to be sick with.

His vision is black at the edges and his hearing is high pitched and muffled but just as he thinks another hit’s about to land, he makes out Oscar’s voice, he thinks it’s Oscar’s, he doesn’t know, the only reason he knows a lot of the hits weren’t his is because they were bare fisted and not brass knuckled.

“Alright, Morris. Back off ‘fore you kill ‘im.”

He hears the scoff, something that sounds like Morris shoving Oscar away, something that sounds like him kicking the pile of newspapers Race had got knocked out of his hands when he was stood outside the mouth of the alley.

Eventually, both footsteps fade.

The cigar is still smouldering somehow, just a little, a foot or so away from Race’s face.

The smell makes him feel sick.

[gently-decaying-flowers]

OKIE, 20 FINN FACTS, GOOOO!!

AAAAAAA

1) i prefer cats but dogs are also amazing

2) the best artificial flavor is red (yes that makes sense)

3) my favorite book for like four years was The Fault in Our Stars by John Green (still amazing highly recommend)

4) I only started writing seriously two summers ago

5) i only have four people i consider my best friends

6) i had (and still have) a major markiplier obsession for most of my life

7) i am scared of conflict even electronically i get anxiety pissing people off one time i said something controversial on here, panicked and deleted the post

8) i have a lot of weird phobias but the funkiest are emetaphobia (fear of throwing up and being sick) and megalaphobia (fear of really big/large structures or things)

9) i’ve always wanted to get into cosplay and think it’s super cool!

10) i still aspire to start my own coffee shop even though it’s unlikely to happen

11) i absolutely love theater and acting but was in my first production only two years ago and have been in only three

12) i have been told by many people their first impression of me was that i was way too cool to talk to them even though i am a major dork once you get to know me

13) i play dnd!! not as often as i would like but it’s really fun

14) i downloaded tumblr in secret bc my parents are lowkey helicopter a little bit

15) i absolutely love antique stores and collecting tiny trinkets. my current favorite is a tiny tea set i got on a vacation

16) i keep an unhealthy amount of halloween decorations out all year round

17) i am extremely picky about my pillows and how they feel

18) squishmallow collector 🫶 (current count is…27)

19) i really like buying water bottles and cups that i never use

20) i don’t like hot drinks, i can only drink iced coffee and no hot chocolate (unless i let it cook significantly)

[puppgirl]

I don’t think I’m gonna survive this tummy ache guys (I might throw up and I have emetaphobia 😭)