#overindulgence

[librafeedee]

Overindulgent weekend ☑️

[nightmare0prince]

The full version of big Loki 😳😈

[honeybelly]

Didn’t realize I ate half the pack until I looked down 😳

[softness-men]

The incredibly handsome actor Louis Garrel is figuring out that he may slow down on the on-set snacks prepared by the catering. His abs are being covered by a cute layer of soft flab.

If only it was not just a dream... 

[secretobsessionstuff]

ok ill start by saying no problem if this takes a year!! you're clearly super busy + i will love reading all the fics that come before my ask hehehe. im on the dakota/blair bandwagon lately. for dakota, in a future fic could he stuff himself with a meal, but not drink enough water and have a very thick, dense problem on his hands when he finally starts puking forreal. blair could help him get it up, with rubs and words of encouragement? it makes me giddy to think about !! thats my request if you ever have time and if it sounds good. now off to read some more fiiic!!

Hello lovely Anon! I bet this legitimately took a year so I thank you for your immense patience. This is halloween themed because I wrote it way back in October lol 🧡

-----------------

Halloween fell on a Monday night that year, meaning Dakota and Blair acted like responsible adults by staying home. Work the next day meant they couldn’t spend the night at a party. Besides, most of their friends were pretending to be adults too, so there weren’t many parties being thrown in the first place. 

Dakota felt like a proper, boring middle-aged man as prepared to spend his night giving out candy. He sat on the porch, wearing fall gloves and a Halloween scarf. Candy corn danced across the scarf. It certainly was cold enough to justify the warm attire. Luckily, he could get away with a hoodie instead of a coat, so he was comfortable as he waited for children to walk up to the house. 

A bucket of chocolate bars and chips kept Dakota company. Though the candy couldn’t talk about its day, it was a decent substitute for his fiancée. Blair promised she would join him outside once she finished some extra work that she hadn’t been able to accomplish at the office. So, Dakota had to entertain himself with Kit Kats and mini bags of potato chips. It was relatively easy to forget his loneliness when his fingers were covered in Dorito Dust. He was in the middle of licking the cheesy residue off his fingers when Blair popped her head out the front door. 

“Hey! Those are for the kids,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“What kids?” Dakota spread his arms out, gesturing to the quiet street. “I’ve been out here an hour, and so far I’ve seen a pirate, a banana, and a something from Minecraft.” 

“That’s it?” Blair stepped outside in her socks and crossed her arms over her chest to stay warm. She looked up and down the street. She could see one or two families making their way to each house. Many houses on the street were dark. It made her pout. “Where is everyone?” 

“I don’t think there’s many kids in our neighbourhood,” Dakota said around a mouthful of chocolate. The Mars bar he chewed on was nearly frozen. It gave his jaw a workout to simply bite down of the gooey thing. Blair saw him reaching for another piece of candy but didn’t say anything. Her shoulders dropped in defeat. 

“Sit with me,” Dakota requested, eyeing the empty chair next to him. “You gotta be done working now.” 

“I’m almost there.” 

“Well, maybe you should…” –he opened his hand to reveal a Kit Kat resting on his palm— “take a break.” 

Blair chuckled at him before swiping the chocolate bar from his hand. She bit the thing in half without breaking apart the sticks, you know, like a monster. 

Dakota gawked at her. “How could you—No, no, get out of my face.” He waved her away with an exaggerated flick of his wrist. “You disgust me.” 

“You’re a child.” Blair stuck her tongue out at him. It still had chocolate on it. And yes, she saw the irony perfectly well. Before going back inside, she turned around to say, “Oh, I’m also making food, so you don’t need to be snacking on candy.” 

“I can do what I want because I’m an adult.” He threw a candy wrapper at her. It landed two millimetres from his own foot. He just stared down at it, the sting of betrayal in his heart. Blair laughed at him and left him on his own again. 

Dakota still had a silly smile on his face when the next trick or treaters showed up. Finally, more kids! These two were dressed as dogs with shiny black makeup on their noses. Dakota was delighted to see that the parents had whiskers and patches drawn on their faces as well. He waited for the kids to say their line before dropping candy in their bags. The sad turnout this year made him overly generous. He gave them each two bags of chips and a handful of chocolate bars as opposed to the standard two. He finished by saying Merry Christmas, to which the kids giggled and corrected the silly man. 

And that was it for a while. Dakota went back to snacking because that was the only thing to do. The big box of chocolate they bought came with four different bars, so obviously he had to have one of each. Then two more. Then another two. Pretty soon the pocket of his hoodie was stuffed with candy wrappers. The chocolate made his mouth sticky, and the salty chips made him wish he brought his water bottle outside with him. Unfortunately, he was too lazy to get up, so he suffered with the taste of caramel on his tongue. Truly it was torture, but for some reason he plunged his hand back into the candy bowl. 

As promised, Blair finally joined him on the porch. He told her about the horrifying monsters and trendy video games characters that he encountered all by himself. He even had to resist the urge to run away when a bottle of ketchup came asking for candy. 

Blair glanced at the bowl. She was pleased to see it was significantly less full. “So, more people showed up then?” 

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Dakota mumbled after burping into his fist. God, if only there had been more trick or treaters, Dakota might not have felt so full just then. 

“You didn’t!” 

He looked down at his lap, knowing that far too many candy wrappers were shoved into his pockets. And far too many sweets were shoved into his belly. “I’m fine,” he insisted when Blair give a surprised look. 

“I know you’re fine. It’s the kids I’m worried about.” 

“There’s plenty more candy, Bee.” 

She crossed her arms but conceded because she knew he was right. There were more treats, yet less and less trick or treaters. 

Blair had almost settled into her chair, when she jumped up. “Oh pizza. I made pizza.” She looked back and forth at Dakota and the bowl of candy. “That is, if you’re still hungry.” 

“You think I’d say no to pizza?” 

So, they ate their pizza outside, hoping that more kids would show up. A few did and they got enough candy for the entire year. 

Of course, Dakota did not say no pizza, but he did have less slices than he normally would. Halfway through his third slice, he realized that he was unusually full from the sweets he had earlier. It was a challenge to swallow the last bite because his mouth was terribly dry and his belly was terribly stuffed with food. 

“Shoot, I forgot to bring out drinks,” Blair said, as if she were reading his mind. But the both of them were comfy and couldn’t bring themselves to stand. And anyway, a giant inflatable t-rex was walking up to them which understandably stole their attention. 

After wishing the t-rex a happy Halloween, Dakota let a burp rumble up from his chest. He’d been holding it in while they spoke to the kid and her family. He could feel the pressure building in his throat. When he finally released the burp, it came up gooey and thick. It was the type of burp that brought him dangerously close to barfing in his mouth. Dakota shivered as he swallowed acid.

“Wow,” Blair said in response to the deep belch. “You must have been holding that one in.” 

Dakota grimaced and rubbed his chest. “Didn’t want to be rude.” 

“Rude to the t-rex?” 

“The kid was standing right in front of me, what did you want me to do?” 

Another belch burst from his mouth, splashing the back of his tongue with the taste of tomato sauce and chocolate—a weird combination that made him shudder with nausea. “Ugh, I shouldn’t have eaten so much.” 

“Your stomach upset?” 

Dakota nodded. “Feels like a fucking brick.” He used his fingertips to press down onto his abdomen. It was bloated and noisy. Grumbles and whines emanated from his gut. 

The tightness became too much to bear, so he stood up. Hopefully, moving around would help his stomach digest the sticky mess faster. 

For the first time that night, Dakota was glad that there weren’t many people out trick or treating. It was getting too late for kids now anyways, so he was likely safe to burp without fearing that strangers were about to walk up to him. 

Oh, but he did more than burp. He groaned and whined as he paced nervously. This was bad; he hadn’t realized how full he was until he stood up. He felt the food in his stomach shift and tumble together like one big gooey ball. He kneaded his belly, hoping to coax a bubble of air out of his system. His stomach was rock hard beneath his hand. 

“Fuck, Bee, this really hurts.” Despite the cold air, sweat coated his brow. 

Blair stood with him, worried by this sudden development. “Are you going to be sick?” 

“I’d like to. I’m way too full right now.”

Dakota bent forward with his hands on his knees. He tried to force up more burps, hoping that would give his stomach the go-ahead to empty itself. He should have felt bad for wasting perfectly tasty candy, but all he felt was an intense need to relieve the ache. A grating sound gurgled in his throat as his belly spasmed. 

The organ gave a small heave, sending up thick saliva and a pathetic amount of sick. Dakota spat a thick glob onto the ground with a moan. An uncomfortable chill zipped down his spine when the horrendous texture touched his tongue. He could fell chunks of sick trying to come up his throat, but it wasn’t moving. He retched again, his back arching violently. Still nothing came up. 

“Baby, that sounds horrible,” Blair cooed, placing a hand on his back. “Just let it out.” 

“I can’t,” he groaned. “It won’t come up. I wish—” he sniffled. “—I wish there were more liquid in my stomach. You know, to get things moving.”

“I’ll get you some water.” She gave his back a firm pat before leaving. 

Dakota breathed deeply through his nose. For a moment, he entertained the idea of jumping to get things rolling but decided that was a stupid idea. It would surely give him heartburn on top of the nausea. He may have felt like a child who devoured too much candy, but what he said to Blair earlier was right; He was an adult and he just had to suffer through the pain. No jumping. Just wait. 

Luckily his patience paid off because a minute later, his stomach lurched on its own. 

A thick wave of vomit came rushing up his throat. He felt the chunks in his mouth for a second before the sick splattered at his feet. He was far from done. Another guttural retch tore up his throat. It was empty. Dakota huffed and hoped the next lurch would be productive. 

Blair came back with his water bottle just in time to see him choke up a mouthful of dense vomit. He had to spit it out because it wasn’t flowing on its own. She was surprised to see that there was already a sizeable puddle at his feet. 

He managed to take in a sharp inhale in between bouts, shooting a miserable look at his fiancée 

Blair pouted at him and began rubbing big circles on his back. “At least you’ll start feeling better now.” 

Dakota hugged his middle. “There’s more. I can feel it.” He winced and pressed his hand right below his rib. “Can you help me? Maybe rub my stomach?” 

“Chug this water first.” She handed him the bottle and watched his throat bob as he drank. He kept a hand on his bloated belly. 

A hearty belch burst from his mouth when he finished. Saliva dripped from his lips. 

“Here we go,” Blair said, gently placing both her hands on his stomach. She used the heel of her hand to massage the area. Her touch coaxed out another wet burp almost immediately. “Oh, that’s it. Lean forward.”  

Dakota put his hands on his knees again to get his stomach at a better angle. That, coupled with the fact that Blair applied the right amount pressure, meant that the next wave came up easily. It was wet and fell past his lips like a waterfall. 

“Yes, Kota. Get it all up. That’s it.” Blair somehow knew when to use a gentle touch and when to go firmer. With every move she made him feel a little bit better. She kept whispering by his ear, telling him that he was doing good. She could feel the tension in his back melt off his tired muscles. 

With one last heave, Dakota brought up everything in his stomach. The last remnants of chocolate and candy splattered into the impressive puddle that he made. 

Finally, he stood up straight, no longer feeling that uncomfortable fullness. His throat was raw, and his abs were on fire, but he was free of the pressure and the ache. 

He was not, however, free of the embarrassment that came with the overindulgence. He let out a long exhale and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. I really needed that.” 

“I know.” Blair grinned at him. “You must be tired after that. Ready to get your jammies on and brush your teeth?” 

“Shut up. We must never speak of what happened on this frightful Hallows Eve.” 

“It’ll make a good cautionary tale. Kids need to know the dangers of too many sweets.” 

“And not enough hydration.” 

Blair shook her head at him. “That too.” She grabbed his arm and led him inside. “Seriously, how’s your stomach doing now?” 

“It hurts. Never underestimate the importance of drinking water.” 

She chuckled softly. “I’ll try to remember that next time you get your hands on candy.” 

[lllakristos]

Reflecting on my life made me realize that I always had an overindulgence tendency.

Like what kind of a 6-year-old kid watches 8 hours of TV a day while eating mindlessly?

It makes me believe that if I had drugs or alcohol available to me and no morals I would have been the worst female junkie in town

[gingerbredman1989]

Too much Easter Candy!

Ideogram AI 1.0

[danafeelingsick]

sɪᴄᴋ sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ #11

a sickie, who hasn't eaten all day for whatever reason, finally gets to have a meal, and overindulges themselves a little more than they should. the food just tastes so much better because they've been hungry for so long, and just another plate won't hurt. and another, and another. and they finally have enough, their stomach is crying.

either sickie keeps on eating because they are not about to let food go to waste when they just went for so long without it. and promptly vomits it back into the plate when their stomach can't hold any more.

or, they stop and try to rest, where they are suffering from a stomach ache, which results in them vomiting everything back up almost undigested.

sickie is ashamed of having wasted food on themselves either way.

[bellysoupset]

Oooh okay, so i love Jonah and Wendy's vibe and I was thinking - how about him getting a little too wasted at some medics function, confessing to her how much he likes Leo, and then having to dash away to puke?

(Feel free to just leave to one side for a while cause I know you have loads of Jonah prompts!!)

"Let's dance," Jonah said, chugging the last of his beer and grabbing her hand, pulling Wendy up. Somehow, HR's idea of a hospital bonding included beers and barbecue. Sure, it wasn't your "in the backyard bbq", but it was still far from what he would've considered appropriate.

Wendy had been too enthralled all evening, listening to Jonah bitch non stop about it. Not only about the food and the heat and the fact he was being served beer, but anything and everything under the sun. It was clear he had a thorn on his side, but until he decided to speak on it, he was set on being an absolute bitch.

It was amusing, she thought, giggling and throwing her arms around his neck as he pulled her to the middle of the garden.

They had hired a band, but no one was dancing. Not to bossa nova, that was just not... Not something people knew how to dance to. Wendy didn't. But Mr. Fancy Boarding School did, as he put his hand on her hip and swayed her side to side, an easy drunk smile on his face, that she knew she should cherish, because it wasn't going to last.

"No, eyes here," Jonah tipped her chin when she tried to look at their feet and Wendy huffed.

"I'm going to fall and make a fool of myself."

"I'm not gonna let you fall," he scoffed, squeezing her hand in his and pulling them both to the right with one quick step, then stepping forward - forcing her to go backwards - slowly.

Wendy allowed him to manhandle her around like a ragdoll, bodies pressed together in the mellow rhythm enough that she could ask "What's gotten into you today?" without fear of being overheard.

As she predicted, his smile slipped and Jonah scowled, "nothing."

"Oh really?" she rolled her eyes as he twirled her, "Jonah, c'mon, you've been bitching non stop and now we're dancing."

"I like dancing," he said defensively and Wendy leveled him with an unimpressed glare.

"Jonah."

He twirled her again, so her back was pressed to his chest, "Leo."

"Uhm, Leo," she repeated cheekily. Jonah hadn't ever spoken out loud, but it was no secret to her just how stupidly into Leo he was. Not when his eyes sparkled like that around the man, not when Leo was the subject of 90% of his conversations and not even in a mean way, but fond and tender, "what about Leo?"

"Shut up," Jonah scoffed, turning her around and Wendy laughed, tipping on his arms before coming closer again, hand in his hand, face to face.

"What? You're not gonna tell me?" she egged him on, "That bad?"

"It's not that bad," Jonah grumbled, making a menacing face and she rolled her eyes at his big scowl. It wouldn't ever work on her, despite it sending nurses, doctors and football players cowering.

"Then spill."

He made a face, then ducked his chin to his chest and muffled a small burp, all dainty and nothing like what she had heard in the headquarters of the hospital.

"Sorry, excuse me. All the bee-"

"Leo, we were talking about Leo," she didn't let him change subjects and stepped closer. Now other people had joined the dance floor, none of them as on rhythm as Jonah, but all of them clearly having more fun, "So?"

"Ikissedhim?" Jonah said in a way that sounded like a question and she raised her eyebrows, but didn't pull back.

"You what?!" she whispered and Jonah turned her again, back to chest once more, but instead of answering he muffled a wet burp on her shoulder and caused Wendy to groan, "Jon, ew."

"Sorry," he said, sounding more bitter and sick than actually sorry. Wendy wrinkled her nose, turned her head to look at the director's table, but kept swaying in his arms.

"And I'm guessing it didn't go that well?" she whispered, a fake smile plastered on her face. Jonah grumbled something uninteligible, "Jon?"

"It went great-"

"-so why do you look like he kicked your metaphorical dog?" Wendy dropped all pretense of fake happiness and turned around to face him. Something very close to annoyance started to itch under her skin, as she saw the deep crease between Jonah's brows.

"Well... He didn't remember it," Jonah grumbled, stopping to move too and planting a hand on his chest, rubbing up and down uneasily, "it was when he hit his head."

"A week ago," Wendy deadpanned, trying not to think of the fact he had been sitting on these news for a week. Her voice softened, "honey, he was really concussed-"

"He remembers, Dee," Jonah grimaced, brought a hand to his mouth and muffled a weak, airy burp, "he remembers everything we said that night, he just- He's just pretending he doesn't remember the kiss."

Easy like that Wendy's annoyance returned with vengeance, but now she could feel it clearly and it was not annoyance, it was anger. Protectiveness.

"What the fuck, Jon? That's such an asshole move."

"I guess, I-" he winced, then folded down and a wet, disgusting burp rolled past his lips, making some of the people that were around them take a step back. The head nurse, Claire, frowned.

"Dr. Banks...?"

"He's fine, Clare," Wendy lied through her teeth, wrapping her arms around Jonah's shoulders, "c'mon, let's not cause a sceneee-" she whispered, fake smile plastered on, "nothing to see here, folks!"

She managed to manhandle him away from the hotel garden's but not all the way to the bathrooms. They stopped nearby the water fountain and he planted both hands to his knees, "Wendy, I feel. Uurp. Really sick," he said in a distorted voice and she sighed.

"Breathe, Jon, it's just your head getting to your-"

"No-" he pitched forward with a heave, spat between his feet in the grass, "it's not nerves."

Wendy grimaced, circling him so she was not on the direct splash zone and planted a hand on his back, rubbing up and down as a bunch of wet belches rolled off of him, each one bigger than the previous one- Until he pitched forward with a big burp that morphed halfway through into a gag, sending a gush of pale yellow vomit on the grass.

She wrinkled her nose at the scene and steadied him, feeling his linen shirt stuck to his back, "Jon..."

He was bracing against his knees, a line of drool still hanging from his lips, "it's burning..."

"You just had too much," she reassured him, "breathe in, it should settle soo-"

He shook his head and nearly went down to his knees as more vomit rushed past his lips, this time much chunkier and brown- Wendy turned her head with a gag of her own, staring at the water fountain as she heard the awful noises he was making.

Jonah coughed, sounding out of breath and belched loosely, something he hadn't forced up, "Fuck-" he groaned queasily, falling on his butt on the water fountain and burying his face on his hands.

She carefully averted her gaze from the stone statue pouring water from a basket, pressing her lips in a line as she tried to look at Jonah but not at the mess. He raised his head from his hands upon feeling her gaze on him, "I think I overdid it."

"You think?" she rolled her eyes, "are you still sick?"

He nodded, throat working dangerously, "I just... I just wanna leave."

She was suddenly very grateful they had carpooled there, though not as grateful as she thought of Jonah this queasy stuck in her car.

"I'm just gonna go grab my purse, meet you at the car?"

"Uhm," he groaned, standing up with her help, a hand planted over his stomach, which she could tell was bloated and pressing against his button up.

After a string of apologies and reassurances that "Jonah is fine, he's just a little under the weather", Wendy finally managed to retrieve her purse and make it out of the hotel. She got him a water bottle from the front desk and met him at the parking lot. He was braced against the top of her car, head buried in the crook of his arm and Wendy cringed in sympathy.

"Jon?"

"I'm fine," he grumbled, voice thick with the nausea and she clicked her keys to unlock the car. Upon entering it, Wendy immediately turned on the a/c. All that hot stuffy air couldn't feel good.

Jonah pushed the passenger seat back and collapsed on it, one arm wrapped around his stomach, the other thrown over his face, shielding his eyes from the sun.

In the silence of the car, she could hear his tummy gurgle angrily and he wasn't holding back from burping, which she opted for not pointing out, even if the smell and frequency of them were making her vaguely queasy too.

"I think you're right," he groaned after about ten minutes of nauseous burps and silence. Wendy raised her eyebrows.

"Of course I am, but over what?"

"...He's being a dick pretending he doesn't remember it," Jonah lowered the arm that was shielding his face, planting the now free hand on his stomach and rubbing at it, face all twisted with discomfort and heartbreak, "makes me feel like I took advantage of him."

"You- You?!" she interrupted herself, floored at the revelation and pissed, "Jonah, you didn't do anything wrong!"

"He was concussed, Dee..." he leaned in, forehead coming to meet the car's dashboard, "I don't know, I just wanna forget about it."

She was going to murder Leo Wagner, Wendy decided. Instead of voicing it though, she reached over the handbrake and squeezed Jonah's thigh.

"I'm sorry, Jon," then because she couldn't stop herself, "but you deserve better than someone who pretends your first kiss didn't happen."

"Guess," he grumbled, then burped again, "are we almost there? I'm gonna hurl again, I can-" he swallowed in, "I can feel it."

She sighed, taking her hand back and focusing on the traffic, looking for a place to pull over, "almost."

[lettherebeflab]

Todays binge. Am beached, send help.

Tell me what a piggy I've been

[hippiedippieblondie]

Don’t eat too many cookies; eat the right amount of cookies, which is ALL THE COOKIES

[spreadfire1]

🤗🐮🐄 Cozy cows catching the first sunlight. 🖖😊 Bonus text: Would you like to wake up to this view too? Granted, it is neither a turquoise-blue ocean with a white sandy shore nor a majestic mountainscape in the alps. No exotic rainforest or savannah safari tour. No sunrise over the New York City skyline and no sunset behind the Golden Gate Bridge. But it is enough. It is down-to-earth, rural, and real. To me, it is home, which gives it an additional flair, connected with memories and emotions. There are so many ways to look at this. For example psychologically, or from an economical or ecological standpoint, etc. Do we always need more, better, bigger? When is it enough? Shouldn't we be content and happy with what we have, and be grateful for it? Maybe more people are currently realizing that during times like these, where public life and travel are restricted. (repost from December 2020)