talamabear

[talamabear]

hiii can you please write a fic with leo getting carsick with lucas and vince?? and this time it’s pretty bad, they have to pull over multiple times and he still can’t stop dry heaving long after he’s empty and vince and luke are in complete Protective Bro Mode taking care of leo

"So I put my hands up" Vince belted from the top of his lungs, causing Lucas to dissolve in a fit of giggles and turn up the radio. He joined in the singing "They're playin' my song, the butterflies fly away I'm noddin' my head like-" and then pointed at Vince, who chorused in, "YEeeaahhh"

"You two are awful" Leo groaned from the passenger seat, rubbing his temples.

"Moving my hips like yeah!" Vin yelled from the back and Lucas snorted loudly.

"It's a party in the USA!"

"God" Leo sighed, leaning his head against the window.

"Cheer the fuck up, Leo!" Vin squealed, shoving his big body between the passenger and driver's seat and shaking Leo's arm, "it's the song of our people!"

"...Your people?" Leo groaned, slapping Vince's hand away from his arm, "dumbasses?"

Lucas rolled his eyes, "you started dating Jonah a week ago, why is he already rubbing off on you?"

"Fuck off, Luke" Leo scoffed, rubbing his face and glaring out of the windshield. A heavy silence settled and Vince scoffed, slapping Lucas' arm.

"You gone and made it weird, cazzo" he grumbled, before ruffling Leo's blonde hair, "what's up kiddo, you're all mopey."

"Don't call me kiddo" Leo sighed and then bit down a groan as he felt his stomach flip flop. It felt like it was filled to the brim with hot soup, even though the last he had eaten was bland oatmeal, followed by his anti nausea medication. Said medication that had promised to knock him out and give him a blissful six hours of cross country trip. Clearly it wasn't working.

"Answer the question, you little prick."

"I'm just... Just feeling bleh" Leo blushed. Suddenly he felt like the worst person ever. Not only he was a hassle to deal with by constantly getting carsick, but he was also bringing down the mood of the car. Vince and Luke had been so happy not even a minute before and now they were both frowning, looking at him with twin faces of concern.

"Bleh?" Luke repeated, "as in a headache or I'm gonna throw up in the car bleh?"

"Uhm," Leo curled up in himself, "a little bit of both..." his stomach churned, "maybe more the second."

"What the heck, you're sitting on the front and you took meds!" Vince whined, "I thought that wasn't supposed to happen!"

"Me too, sorry" Leo mumbled and Vince winced.

"No man, I'm not mad at you, I'm mad for you. This sucks" he ran his fingers through Leo's hair without thinking, catching Lucas' eyes on the rear view mirror and doing that twin thing they did, where they talked with just their eyes.

Leo groaned and leaned onto Vince's touch. Vin's hands were always a touch too warm, but at least they were solid and steady, a change from the sensation of the moving car.

"Leo," Lucas reached in to squeeze his leg in a reassuring manner, "do I need to pull over?"

Leo thought about it for a second. He really wanted to say he could do until the next gas stop, but his stomach was going from angry to fucking furious and he could already taste his breakfast in the back of his throat, "...Please."

"It's okay buddy" Lucas nodded, swiftly slowing down the car and turning up the emergency sign. He parked on the dust shoulder and Leo groaned, unlocking the door with a shaky hand.

"I'll be right back" he mumbled, then dizzily stepped out of the car, trying to salvage a scrap of his dignity. He made it to the back of the car and crouched down on the gravel, using the trunk to support his arms.

Inside the car, Vince watched as Leo, pale as a ghost suddenly disappeared from view and he raised a startled eyebrow "uh... I think we just lost the baby."

Lucas snorted, "he'll be pissed if he hears you call him that...Even"

"Odd" Vince said, then threw up his hand in the space between them, holding up two fingers. Lucas had only held up one and he sighed, seeing the results of their childish match. Vince grinned, "rough, bud" he said, kicking Lucas' driver seat.

Lucas rolled his eyes, "give me a water bottle" he asked, taking it and getting out of the car. He cringed as he approached the back and found Leo hunched down, with a small puddle of chunky white and brown puke before him.

"Hey" he said softly, crouching down too and planting a hand on Leo's back. Today he was wearing a long sleeved henley and its back was already drenched in sweat, "Leo, you're done, man."

"Uhm," Leo gagged weakly, "don't..." he let out a small burp, "don't think so."

"Okay, take your time" Lucas planted a hand in the middle of his back, "why are you almost on all fours?"

"Didn't want you to-" Leo interrupted himself with a painful heave and brought up a mouthful more of brown liquid "ah fuck..."

Lucas wrinkled his nose at the mess. He wasn't one to be bothered by vomit, but this stank, "get it up," he said gently, rubbing Leo's back a little forcefully.

A minute later Leo let out a queasy moan and almost lost his hold on the trunk as he heaved. Lucas grabbing his shirt was the only thing keeping him from face planting, as he brought up a lot more vomit.

He stopped puking and hung over it, breathing strongly "I'm..." he paused and spat in the puddle "I'm done."

"Alright" Lucas grunted, since his legs were starting to ache from the awkward crouched down position, "up we go"

"You talk like such a dad, Lucas" Leo chuckled weakly, stumbling away from the mess and resting against the car, "fuck my stomach hurts."

"Yeah, I'd expect so" Lucas handed him the water bottle "the fuck did you eat for breakfast, battery acid?"

Leo lowered the water bottle before it could touch his lips and gagged at the mention of his breakfast, glaring at Lucas, who had the decency of blushing and mumbling "sorry."

He waited patiently as Leo swished the water around his mouth, spat it and then took a tiny sip, trying to regulate his breathing.

"It's staying down?"

"Uhm... Not sure" Leo pressed the cold water bottle to his forehead, "I'm very dizzy, Luke."

"Meds did fuck-all" Lucas noted, rubbing his arm, "we'll stop at the next gas stop we find, get you some of the real stuff."

"No point" Leo squeezed his eyes, "...doubt I could keep it down now."

"We'll try anyway" Lucas promised, then fidgeted, "ready to get back in the car?"

Leo nodded, albeit he wasn't so sure. Just the thought of being in a moving car, again, was making him anxious. Speaking of anxious, as soon as he sat back down, Vince was the perfect picture of a worried mother, combing his hair back, hands on his clammy neck and forehead.

"How are you feeling, Leo?"

"Like crap" Leo sighed, cheeks blushing because he couldn't stop himself from leaning onto Vince's touch, "I hate my fucking stomach."

"Me too, kid" Vince sighed, rubbing his shoulders as Lucas started the car back up, "Uhm, I got you a bag..."

It was a nice gesture, but it made Leo's stomach clench from the sheer humiliation, let alone the nausea. Why couldn't he be like the other two, just hanging out, having the time of their lives?

"Thanks" Leo mumbled, taking it and leaving it on his lap. He knew he was far from empty, even if he hadn't eaten much for breakfast, Jonah had made sure he ate more than one yogurt he was planning to have. Now he was regretting it.

Thinking of his boyfriend at least brought up the small ounce of relief that he wasn't around for such a pathetic display. Even if Jonah had seen him sick a million times before, at least this was one less.

His belly churned as Lucas pulled the car into the road and Leo kept his eyes shut. He wasn't sure if it was helping with the motion sickness, so he forced them to open, only to catch his two best friends in the act of silently communicating.

"You guys can speak about me out loud, thanks" Leo grumbled, wrapping an arm around his tender belly. It was nauseating and awful the fact that he could genuinely feel his bloated belly somersault under his arm.

"Just worrying about you, Leo" Vince sighed and kept petting his hair, "it's a long trip..."

Yes, six long hours and only one had passed. Just the thought that he still had five more hours of a car trip made his stomach turn unpleasantly, "please just punch me really hard..."

Vince chuckled, while Lucas pouted, "I don't think a concussion is really gonna help you on terms of feeling queasy, kiddo."

Leo chose to ignore the kiddo, just this once. He let out a groan and leaned his head back, into Vince's touch, "I'll just try to stay really still."

And he tried. He almost managed, pushing down the nausea for several minutes, letting out the tiniest burps that kept rolling up and tickling his throat, but bringing no real relief.

The car was silent now, the radio turned off and it was so quiet that all three guys could hear the rolling and churning of Leo's stomach. A gurgle made him cradle his belly and swallow in the acid tickling the back of his throat.

"Leo..."

"I'm- I'm fine..." he grumbled, getting a hand under his shirt and squeezing his tummy with his fingers. He burped, this one a real belch and felt something frothy claw its way up, "Ow..." he dizzily grabbed the bag in his lap, trying to get it open.

"Here, here" Vince reached in, despite the fact he was too big to keep squeezing himself in the tiny space between passenger and driver. He held up the bag for Leo, who grabbed it with both hands, leaning over it and trying not to puke.

He couldn't force his mouth to close, drool hit the plastic and he groaned loudly, no longer caring if he was embarrassing himself. Leo had the faint idea that Lucas and Vince were speaking about him, but he wasn’t sure what was being said, all that mattered was the growing sensation of being squeezed from his middle-

“UUURkk” he heaved and almost lost his grip on the bag. Vince’s hand cupped his forehead, keeping his head and aim steady and Leo gagged again, bringing up all of the remnants of his breakfast in one large gush that simply didn’t stop. Probably his dinner too.

 Oatmeal was the worst coming up, he decided, coughing and trying to get rid of the flakes in his throat, which kept triggering his gag reflex - He coughed up another torrent of liquid and the bag got heavy enough to sit on his lap and causing him to heave again, out of sheer disgust. 

“You’re empty” Vince was saying gently, “Leo, you’re empty, breathe.”

“Can’t” he gasped, eyes squeezed shut, “it’s in my thr-” he retched again and finally dislodged the little flakes which were making everything worse.

Leo’s hands trembled and he started to lower them, with the bag, only to feel Vince let go of his head to grab at it before all the vomit spilled over. He bunched it closed in one hand and Leo pressed his forehead to the car door. The wind was welcome against his face, wiping away the smell of puke that was making his stomach roil more.

“Leo?”

“I’m fine...” he mumbled dizzily, only for his shoulder to hitch and a small mouthful of puke to land on his shirt, “oh no...”

He heard Vince cursing something in italian, but Leo felt exhausted... And so queasy still, he couldn’t force himself to pay attention.

“Gonna be sick”

“You don’t have anything else to bring up, kiddo” Lucas said, only for Vince to snort.

“Don’t challenge him” Vince warned, holding the bag with one hand cupping Leo’s cheek with the other, “we need to stop, Luke, get a new bag, some napkins... Leo, hey,” he patted his cheek gently “stay in the land of the living.”

“I’m here” Leo turned his face, despite the droplets of puke clinging to his chin and buried his nose and eyes in Vince’s large palm, trying to block everything. He wanted the world to stop fucking twirling.

His belly felt like it was filled with liquid still, sloshing from side to side and he was so dizzy... His mouth watered and he groaned, gagging in Vince’s palm.

“Luke!”

“I’m pulling over, calm down!”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Vince scoffed and then the entire world came to a halt, chill air flooded the car as suddenly Leo was tipped forward, just as another rush of vomit came out of his mouth.

It stung his throat and nose, bile and water, nothing more. He hung awkwardly, half outside the car, half in and whined, unable to get it together.

“Okay” Lucas was saying, holding him put, “alright, new plan...” 

“Yeah?” Vince sounded eager to listen to the new plan. There was a beat of silence, interrupted only by Leo, retching again.

“Uhm,” Lucas sighed, “maybe get him lying down in the back, I’ll try to find a new bag and we can drive to a motel. There’s no way we’re making to New York with him in this state...”

“Noo” Leo whined,grabbing the door to force himself to sit up, “we’ll miss the concert.”

“Fuck the concert,” Lucas rolled his eyes, “who cares? Leo, you’re scari-”

“I care” Leo clenched his jaw, and yes he did. It hadn’t been cheap or easy to get the ticket, he was not Lucas Atwood who just got tickets sent to his household. He cared a fucking lot actually, “please.”

Vince groaned, “Lucas don’t fall for his puppy eyes.”

“Please” Leo repeated, turning to look at Vince, who immediately sighed, nodding his head.

“You’ll get yourself killed, kid.”

“I’m fine” Leo shook his head, before gagging softly “Well, I will be fine... Let’s not tell Jonah about this.”

“Lets” both boys agreed.  

[talamabear]

I've been struggling to write a full story lately and I'm sorry about that but I am thinking thoughts today that I want to share specifically about. someone eating a whole cake. there's just so many good situations that can come from it?

ok here's some thoughts btw and it ended up super long so buckle up:

someone who bakes a whole huge birthday cake for a birthday party that ends up cancelled. maybe it's someone else's so it's more disappointing than anything else; maybe it's their own and they're also heartbroken and hurt that nobody came or that the party couldn't happen. so they cut themself a slice of the cake as a consolation and it tastes so good and makes them feel a little better so they cut themself another. and then another. and then another. until they lift the knife and notice the platter is cleared and their stomach is full.

or maybe someone who had a hard day at work, so they stop at the grocery store to get one of the small cakes for themself, only they're sold out of the mini cakes. they do have plenty regular cakes, and they figure it can't hurt to cut themself a piece off of that, only they get home and pick up a fork like they would have if it was a single serve cake and just start eating. and they don't stop until the entire thing is gone, just like they would have otherwise.

or maybe someone who is at an event with too many dessert options, and after having one too many drinks with their friends, they get dared to eat one of the whole cakes that has thus far remained untouched. it doesn't seem like that big of a deal to their drunk mind, so they accept the dare and start eating. partway through, they realize it's a mistake, but they're already so far in and they can't possibly lose a dare.

or maybe someone is meant to go on a special date with their partner, but their partner breaks up with them instead. they go to their reservation alone and, when the waiter brings out the cake they had pre-ordered, they get lost in eating the cake alone without anyone to share it with and reminiscing over the relationship they've lost. they don't even realize they've been in a daze eating the whole thing until it's already gone.

or maybe someone who took home a cake as leftovers from a party a couple of weeks ago and forgot about it before now. they're cleaning out their fridge and find the container it was placed in and think that it's just cake and surely cake really can't go bad. they also can't justify putting it back in the fridge after taking it out, so they just mindlessly pick at it as they continue working. before they know it, the fridge is cleaned out, and so is their plate. it's also then that they start to realize that maybe a cake can go bad and give them food poisoning, if they aren't careful enough- and it seems like they weren't.

or maybe someone with an allergy who didn't realize that the cake they've been eating that tastes so good has a food that they cannot have in it. maybe it's something that causes a little bit of digestive upset, or maybe it's something that causes a lot of digestive upset (and more). either way, they don't find out about the incorrect allergen ingredient until after they've already scarfed down the whole entire thing and they're already starting to notice the early warning signs of a reaction.

or maybe someone who is a supernatural being who cannot consume cake in the first place. maybe they ended up at a wedding or a birthday or some sort of party where they're expected to eat human food, and this being that cannot digest human food, let alone one so dense and sugary and heavy. they're not sure how much a human would eat and end up consuming the whole thing, despite the fact that they are incapable of processing it.

or maybe someone who truly just loves cake and can't help themself once they're near one. they can't stop going back just for how much they love every bite they take. they feel an intense craving for cake today and can't stop eating, going back for more slices and bites. they don't see any reason not to with how much they enjoy it. at least, they don't see why not until they start to realize they've somehow fit an entire cake inside themself.

but regardless of how it happens, every one of these people would start experiencing pretty much the same thing afterwards I think:

a massive sugar rush that makes them feel all prickly with their heart beating too fast, their palms getting all sweaty, their stomach unable to properly digest anything with how quickly everything in their body seems to be moving and rushing along.

this would also like be followed by a similarly massive sugar crash, where their body refuses to do much of anything at all. their whole system starts getting so sluggish and struggles to process the sheer amount of they've stuffed themself with.

all the sugar and fat and flour and cream and everything in the cake is probably starting to give them an upset stomach. they would start bloating quite a bit, feeling a lot of indigestion as their belly struggles to process the cake they've eaten.

an even bigger problem is the sheer amount of cake they've eaten. there's so much of it inside of them that their stomach has had to expand to accommodate the amount and stretched out to fill them up as much as they can be filled, leaving them uncomfortable and bloated and stuffed.

their digestion slows down even more with the cake they've eaten, and they feel even more sluggish inside and out. after a while it feels like they aren't digesting anything at all, and the indigestion joins up with the acid reflux from the rich, creamy cake to have them hiccupping and burping and the feeling that some of their belches bring up a little bit of regurgitated cake with them.

a throbbing headache from all the sugar and a sense of exhaustion. they're so worn out that they try to lay down to sleep it off or at least rest, and even drink a little water to help with potential dehydration, but they're struggling to get any rest with how full their stomach is and how much it's starting to feel more and more uncomfortable.

they probably ate so much they upset the balance in their stomach. all the good bacteria has been disrupted and unbalanced by the bad coming in, and it bloats them out even more until they're filled with rumbling discomfort, too much air, filled with cake. it's probably more and more uncomfortable every second.

it's also probably getting soooooo noisy in their belly. once their stomach realizes how stuffed and upset it is, it definitely is going to start protesting and protesting loudly. all that sugar would start fermenting in their guts, which would definitely cause a lot of bubbling and burbling noises. not only that but their tummy and guts and intestines trying to break down all that sugar and fat and flour is going to sound really liquidy inside them- probably really gurgly the entire time it's trying to digest.

eventually, though, they're going to realize digestion is impossible. like they ultimately probably just won't be able to digest it all. at that point, probably:

after stuffing that much into themselves it would've been a miracle to be able to process it through their system. their digestion is going to start really struggling after not very long at all. it'll probably start rumbling really loudly. it wants them to know how upset it is and will give them long, deep, growling noises that keep rolling through their belly.

eventually the gas will build up, too. it won't just be all the cake they stuffed in themself that they just cannot digest, but they're going to get so bloated and uncomfortable. everything will feel like it's bubbling, from their throat down through their chest into their belly and their guts and down to their ass. it's all going to feel so, so full inside of them, but they've already eaten everything so there's really not much else to do at this point except try and get through it.

the upset brewing in their belly will eventually start churning its way up into a small storm inside of them. the water they tried to drink is making them feel a little sloshy, more liquidy noises churning up as everything churns together. their belly tries to process everything, even trying to push a little through into their intestines, and it starts making these popping feelings, along with these tight, high-pitched squeaks and whines and whimpers as their stomach tries to expand and take it all.

the little bubbles in the gas inside them will become bigger and bigger, shifts and pings and pops inside them that eventually become bigger belches. at first, they're probably hiccuppy burps, before they're starting to get deeper and wetter and combining with the acid reflux a little bit to bring up a little bit of the undigested and poorly-chewed cake in their belly at the end of each hard belch.

they're going to really start regretting it when their stomach starts threatening to empty itself and reject the sheer amount of cake that has been stuffed inside of it. they can run to the bathroom and try to get some of it out, but their belly hasn't managed to digest enough to get anything out that way.

they can try to feel better in other ways, especially since the bloat and discomfort and nausea are only growing. they try to drink more water to flush the sugar through their system, and they try to drink a little bit of tea, maybe ginger or peppermint, and they try to go for a little walk to get their belly to settle and encourage it to digest. unfortunately, they had so much that none of that is enough to get their stomach to settle down inside of them, as angry as it is.

eventually they're going to feel like their mouth is watering, fighting against the stomach acid attempting to claw its way up inside them. they'll probably feel something of a cold sweat coming on, and they'll go to lay down and be by themselves, away from everybody else. as they're walking to bed, they probably feel a little shaky, dizzy, sweaty. it's not easy to get into pajamas and lay down in bed on their own, but they manage it.

their digestive system is still trying to process everything, even if it's fighting a losing battle, and they just can't stop the sick, wet burps that keep coming. their stomach keeps spasming, the muscles fighting to push everything through, but failing to do so. it's probably only going to make them more uncomfortable and nauseated as it gets worse and worse.

they'll probably feel weak and exhausted. they're so drained it's hard to know what to do, but maybe they'll try to drink their tea, or take medicine, or rub their belly where it hurts the most. if someone comes to check on them, maybe they'll ask them to help rub their tummy, too. they're hoping it'll work (it won't).

eventually it just will become too much. they won't be able to fight it anymore. they feel the worst they've ever felt. with an entire cake stuffed inside them, they feel like their overloaded belly is on the brink of tearing them apart. they're too nauseated. after a bit, they realize it's all going to happen soon:

their stomach is just too overloaded. as they're laying there, feeling worse by the second, they start to realize they're just not going to be able to keep it all down. they're going to have to sit up quickly as the miserable queasiness intensifies, a warning snarl building up and forcing its way up their throat as a deep, wet belch that brings up a mouthful of mushed-up cake and stomach acid that they forcefully swallow back down with a loud, liquidy gurgle of protest from their tummy.

they only have seconds to launch themself out of bed. maybe they can't make it out of the room and they get sick in bed, or in the trash can, on their knees and bent over it; maybe they sprint out of their room and into their bathroom, shoving the toilet lids up and slamming down to their knees just in time for a horrible belch to rip up and out of them.

every burp probably tastes worse and worse. at first, it takes like the cake flavors, and the frosting, so thick and cloying and sweet in the back of their throat. it'll become worse as it melts with their stomach acid, becoming acidic and rancid and worse every time they taste it again until just the taste of it is enough to have them gagging. it just intensifies the whole horrible experience.

they try to breathe deeply, their whole body overheating and sweaty. even as they try to keep everything down, swallowing compulsively to keep it all in their tummy, taking long deep breaths, they don't think they can manage it. another deep belch rolls up, heavy and loud, and their stomach feels like a stormy battlefield, tumultuous and churning inside of them.

the heaviness in their belly will try to surge upwards, and they'll retch, spitting up a mouthful of sickly sweet and too-thick saliva into whatever receptacle they've found. they feel clammy, their stomach twisting violently, they shiver as pressure rises inside them and they belch sickly, deeply, tears pricking in their eyes. even when they try to take another deep breath, it's not enough, and they end up gagging on the end of it.

that's when everything will finally come rushing upwards. the cake went in one bite at a time, but it'll feel like it wants to come out all at once, a rush that gets squeezed up from inside of them and rips out in a violent surge. one gush after another will be forced out of them as their body finally rejects the entire cake they crammed down into their overstretched, churning, miserable tummy.

their belly will be determined to empty itself entirely. they won't be able to stop, expelling the cake one wave at a time, purging the contents one mouthful at a time. they'll wrap their arms around their stomach, or clutch the toilet or trash can or whatever they have, they'll probably cry as they can't stop emptying themselves until they're panting and gasping for air.

it'll take a while to get everything out of them. could take a long time, even, where they have to keep lurching back upwards and belching up another wave of vomit. every time they think they're done, there's another burp and another mouthful of puke pulled up. it's like their body is determined to make sure they feel the most regret possible over what they've done wrong today in eating an entire cake.

and then. they'll have to deal with the after effects.....

at first, there might even be a sense of relief. they aren't as full as they had been now that everything is out of them, feeling as if the worst has finally passed. their abused, tormented stomach is probably still gurgling weakly, rumbly and pathetic, occasionally forcing up another hiccup or burp.

their throat probably feels raw. their body is covered in a sticky sweat, pajamas clinging to them. they'll shakily get up and have to flush or rinse out whatever they got sick into. it'll be difficult to shower, but they have to to get the layer of grime off of them. by the time they get back in bed, they're practically collapsing into it. they probably groan when their stomach gives a sickly gurgle, rumbling in response to everything it's been through.

every now and then, their stomach will shudder. they try to take small, slow sips of water, but those make their tummy start to protest again, liquidy little gurgles bubbling up and making their nausea swell a little bit. they have to force themself to stop and set their water aside and take slow, deep breaths, closing their eyes and trying to sleep off the last of it.

they feel a little lighter, though they're exhausted and still have a rumbly tummy. their head and belly are both throbbing, and they just close their eyes and slowly rub their hand over their abused stomach, soft and gurgly under their palm. a mild nausea still lingers, but they just want to sleep through it.

their night is probably plagued with a lot of uncomfortable insomnia. they'll have heartburn, keep hiccupping and burping throughout the entire night, and probably so much acid reflux. they'll probably feel really restless, unable to stop moving, their stomach pushing them to continue shifting and writhing in bed all night long.

the next morning, they'll feel so sluggish and worn-out and exhausted, the results of overeating so much sugar, working so hard to purge it back out, and then spending a relatively sleepless night afterwards. they'll feel dehydrated and weak, their tummy will feel heavy and uncomfortable and bloated. their digestive system is probably still trying to work; they might even have to spend some time in the bathroom because of it.

even though they know that trying to eat something else might settle their stomach, they don't think they could manage to get anything to stay down if they swallowed it, even something small or savory. even the thought of eating a cracker makes them burp weakly in the back of their throat. they are full of so many things, and mostly, they are full of regrets for eating the whole cake in the first place.

they can try to stretch or take a walk or have a light breakfast or drink some water. they should probably try to have some electrolytes or something. if they can manage to keep it down. their system definitely needs to be flushed after everything they've done to it.

yeah so. you know. just thinking a lot about someone who might eat an entire cake. you know how it goes.

[talamabear]

you're lying in bed, your gf fast asleep on top of you. you can feel her bloated stomach's movements against yours. you both kinda overindulged at the lunch buffet earlier in the day, and then you had a dinner at a fancy restaurant because you couldn't cancel the table reservation on such short notice and didn't want to waste it, and she was complaining about still feeling uncomfortably full when you went to bed but you felt fine and you thought she was exaggerating because she knows you find it cute.

now however as you listen to (and feel) her stomach gurgling, you realise she was probably not exaggerating at all. she's still asleep and you don't wanna wake her, but as her breathing becomes more rapid and shallow, you wonder if you should, just in case.

"babe?" you say softly, nudging her gently. she moans, and a trickle of drool drips from her lips as she does so. alright, you think, so this is happening... "babe, wake up..."

her eyes flutter open and you can see the sleepy confusion turn into dismay into panic into resignation... "mmmgonna puke," she mumbles.

"alright," you reply, trying to think. "it's alright, babe." you move as swiftly as you can, while trying not to jostle her too much and hasten the inevitable. you help her sit up (and wince in sympathy as you see how bloated her stomach really is) and look around for a solution.

your gf lets out a miserable groan accentuated by a wet burp, and her body slumps forward. there's no way she's making it into the bathroom. "gonna... *urrp* puke..." she repeats, as if you didn't realise that already.

you finally spot the trash bin and lunge for it, and place it in her lap. you sit next to her and put your arm around her. "it's alright, babe," you say again, trying to offer some reassurance.

still, it takes several minutes for anything to happen beyond the increasingly sickly burps that erupt from her lips. she's so nauseous she's shaking in your arms, clutching the trash bin with both hands, and you want to help her find release so you rub her bloated belly, applying gentle pressure that makes her whimper out loud...

and then finally, a burp turns into a gag midway through. her entire body clenches with the force of the heave that follows, bringing up a disappointingly small trickle of vomit. she gasps and moans, and you continue to push a little harder... and her body responds with another heave, this time bringing up a more substantial amount splashing into the bin. and then it seems like she can't stop, so you just hold her and murmur soothing words you're not sure she can hear.

[talamabear]

I love having a friend that isn’t afraid or embarrassed to puke in front of me. Me and my friend were on a trip for spring break. We were hanging with a group of friends and spent the day eating tons (including a lot of dairy) and smoking. Later that night we got a couple bottles to drink. After drinking for a few hours we all called it a night. I shared a bed with this friend. They complained a little about their stomach bothering them before we went to bed but insisted they were fine. When I woke the next morning my friend was sleeping on his back looking rather uncomfortable. We had to get ready to leave for some plans so I woke them up. They were very groggy and groaned while holding their stomach. I asked if they were ok and the said they just needed a minute. This friend gets nauseous a lot so I asked if he needed a bag incase they got sick (I had put bags on their side of the bed before ewe went to bed that night) they insisted that they didn’t. Not even a few seconds my friend shot up with a hand over their mouth and hurriedly asked for the bag. I stubbled around in the dark for the bags I placed earlier and just managed to grab one before they violently threw up into it. They coughed and puked again into the bag that I held. I could feel the hot chunky liquid filling the bag. It smelled sour and almost a little sweet. In the break between them puking I went to the bathroom to grab the trashcan and quickly switched the bag with the trashcan. They threw up a few more times before gagging over the trashcan for a couple minutes. Somehow we managed not to get puke on anything. I cleaned everything up and got them some water. They managed to keep the water down so I gave them some meds for the nausea. I was shaking the whole time but damn it was hot.

I wonder what got them. The dairy or the alcohol.

[talamabear]

Just got back from a retirement party for my old band directors. We did so many shots and mixed drinks it was an amazing time. What wan even more amazing is that my friend (older alumni, hot as fuck) got super wasted. At first he was really handsy and cuddly which was amazing. But as the night went on he started to slow on his drinks (multiple shots of tequila and 2-3 mixed drinks with double tequila) he disappeared into the bathroom. After. While he came out complaining that he was really nauseous but ok. As time went on we could tell he was starting to feel worse. We convinced him to sit an after a while he thought he was gonna puke so we took him out the front of the bar. He puked quite a few times in the trash outside before he was too tired to stand. I held him out the steps outside where he puked repeatedly. I was so fucking hard hearing him gag and burp up all that alcohol. He waited with me in the car while his friend took my band directors car home (he was wasted but was convinced to barhop). He managed not to puke in my car but when he friend came back, he puked a few times in a bag before puking down the side of the his car. Wish I could have rode back with him and held him while he moaned and gagged over the bag.

[talamabear]

Okay here is the IRL story I mentioned the last week. This has taken me longer than I thought it would because bf ended up being very sick like all weekend and just started feeling better today. I’m gonna write it in 3rd person though cause it’s hard for me to write about myself in nsfw settings. Also its been a while since I've written anything remotely sexy so we'll see how this goes lol.

Tw: depictions of vomit

Tw: mild nsfw under the cut so please do not read if you are under 18 or are uncomfortable with sexual content

“Good morning,” carter said when summer opened her eyes. He was already awake, scrolling through something on his phone.

“You’re up early,” she said, surprised. He didn’t have to work until 9 so she figured she’d be heading to school before he was even awake.

“Yeah I don’t know I just woke up,” he shrugged, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her close to kiss her. She sighed, draping a leg over his waist to press herself even closer as she deepened the kiss.

“You wanna hop in the shower with me since we have some extra time?” Summer asked, although what she had in mind wasn’t exactly showering.

“Say no more,” Carter said, picking her up bridal style and carrying her to the bathroom.

“Oh my god,” Hazel laughed, ducking to narrowly avoided hitting her head on the doorframe as they walked through it.

He set her down, leaning over to turn the shower on as Hazel giggled, pulling off the t-shirt she'd been sleeping in. Once the water was warm Carter pulled off his boxers and stepped into the shower, grabbing Hazel by the waist to pull her in with him.

"Mmm hey," she said softly, running her hands up his sides.

"You're beautiful," he said, already sounding out of breath. He pushed her up against the wall, making her gasp at the cold tile against her back. He braced himself against the wall with one hand and grabbed her hip with the other, pulling her body flush against his.

"Ohh, you feel good," she sighed, grinding her hips against his.

"You feel amazing," he moaned back, leaning his forehead against hers.

She tilted her head up to kiss him, wrapping her arms around his neck. As he deepened the kiss she moved one hand up to cup the back of his head. They made out for a minute, then Carter dropped his head down against her shoulder, bucking his hips against Hazel's.

She pressed even closer, turning her head to kiss his neck, making him shiver against her. Hazel wrapped one leg around his to get a better angle, when she realized that he wasn't hard anymore.

"Car?" she asked, pulling back slightly.

"Hmm?" he asked, looking somewhat dazed.

"You okay?"

"Uh, actually my stomach feels kinda weird," he said, bringing a hand up to rest over his belly.

“Weird how?” She asked, resting her hand on top of his.

Instead or answering though, he suddenly turned around and pitched over, throwing up into the shower drain.

“Oh shit okay, alright, you’re okay,” Hazel cursed, thrown off guard. She quickly regained her composure and stepped behind him, placing a hand on his back to rub gently as he continued to heave over the drain.

“Fuck,” he spat, slowly straightening up.

“Do you feel any better?” She asked, wrapping an arm around him. He leaned against her, dropping his head down onto her shoulder.

“Not really..” he mumbled.

“Do you want to sit down? You’re looking pretty pale,” she said, worried he might pass out.

"Oh god," he mumbled, pressing a fist to his mouth as he let out a low belch, "I need to get out," he said.

"Okay, here hold on," Hazel said, turning off the water then reaching out to grab two towels for them. She quickly wrapped one around her chest then wrapped the other towel around Carter's waist, helping him tie it.

"I'm gonna throw up again," he said, reaching shaky hands out toward Hazel.

"Come here, I've got you," Hazel said, quickly stepping out and grabbing Carter's hands to help him out of the shower as well. He immediately dropped down onto his knees in front of the toilet, vomiting again.

"Oh sweetie," Hazel sighed, crouching behind him to rub his back. He leaned over the bowl, dry heaving, with nothing left to bring up. After a few more heaves Hazel wrapped an arm around his chest, pulling him back away from the toilet.

"N-not done," he coughed.

"You're empty love, try to breathe," she said, sitting down with her back against the wall.

He retched dryly again but let her maneuver him to sit between her legs, his back resting against her chest. She looped her arm around him so her hand rested on the middle of his stomach, rubbing gently back and forth to help soothe the contracting muscles.

After a few more minutes he was able to calm down, slowly relaxing back against Hazel. He dropped his head back onto her shoulder and turned to press his face into her neck. She could feel the heat radiating off of his forehead.

"That came on pretty fast huh?" she said softly, bringing her other hand up to card through his hair.

"Yeah... I don't know what happened," he groaned.

"How do you feel now?" she asked.

"Cold. Body hurts," he shrugged, shivering against her body in his towel.

"I think you've got a fever," she nodded, pressing her cheek against his head.

"My stomach's still pretty upset," he added, punctuating his sentence with a muffled burp.

"I'm sorry hon, let's go get some clothes and then we can get you set up on the couch," she said, giving his tummy one more rub before she removed her hands, placing them on his back to help him sit up.

"I need to call in to work. I really don't feel good," he said.

"Yeah you definitely should not go to work today," Hazel agreed. She scooted out from behind him and stood up, moving to step in front of him to help him up. She slowly pulled him to his feet, wrapping her arm around his waist so he could lean on her as they walked out to the living room. He was still pretty pale and felt a little shaky.

Hazel grabbed some clothes for both of them, and carefully helped Carter get dressed in a white t and some loose sweats, then they slowly made their way to the couch. Carter laid down, squirming around in discomfort, sliding a hand up under the t-shirt. His face was pale and his eyes looked hazy and far away.

"I really don't feel good," he said quietly.

"I know love, I'm sorry. How about you call in real quick, and then pick something to watch. I'm gonna go get ready for school real quick and then I'll sit with you until I have to leave," she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

He nodded, giving her a forced smile. She gave a sad smile back before heading back to their room to finish getting ready for class. He'd been just fine when they'd woken up and got in the shower. It had just happened so fast.

When she came back he was laying down watching moana, which was always his go to when he wasn't feeling well. She sat down on the edge of the couch reaching out to cup his face. He definitely felt warm.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey.." he replied, sounding sad and miserable.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Not great," he shrugged, turning his face to press against her leg.

"Can you sit up and drink some water for me?" she asked, worried by how pale he looked.

He nodded against her leg, letting her help him slowly maneuver himself into a sitting position. He leaned against Hazel as she reached forward to grab the glass of water she'd gotten him.

With shaking hands he took the glass and took a small, careful sip, before laying back down, this time with his head in Hazel's lap. She started playing with his hair, keeping her other hand draped over his waist to rest gently on his stomach.

After a minute he grabbed the hand that was on her stomach, moving it up under his shirt to rest on his skin. She could feel his stomach gurgling and churning the water he'd drank.

"I don't think it's sitting very well.." he said quietly.

"Yeah it doesn't feel too good in there, I'm sorry hon," she frowned, rubbing gentle circles into his angry belly.

"I'm feeling nauseous again," he groaned.

"Okay, here let me up for a second and I'll go grab a bucket so you don't have to try and make it to the bathroom if something does happen," she said, carefully lifting his head off of her lap and sliding out.

She returned a minute later with a bucket, which she set in front of the couch near his head so he could easily reach it. He had curled in on himself and was looking somehow even more pale, maybe even slightly green tinged. Poor thing.

He belched against her thigh, which turned into a heave that he quickly swallowed down. He whimpered, lips drawn into a tight line.

“Ookay, come on, up you go,” Hazel said, sliding an arm under him to lift him up into a sitting position, head positioned over the bucket.

“I don’t want to..” he sobbed, tears starting to spill over.

“Aw honey I know. It’ll be over soon,” she said, scooting over to sit behind him, one leg on either side of his hips. She wrapped an arm around his stomach and one around his chest, leaning him forward a little as his mouth hung open from the nausea.

“Oh god,” carter gulped, “my tummy’s really not feeling so good.”

“Shh shh I’ve got you, just let it happen,” Hazel said quietly, rubbing firm but gentle circles over his aching tummy. She could feel it churning and lurching, trying to throw up.

Carter pitched forward with a burp that brought up a mouthful of mostly water.

“Easy Car, try to breathe through it,” Hazel said study, tightening her grip on him to support his weight as he leaned forward. He gagged again, coughing up some spit and bile.

He spat into the bucket, then slowly straightened up, slumping back against Hazel. She brought a hand up to smooth his hair back from his face, leaving her other hand on his stomach.

“You think you’re done? There’s probably not anything left in there,” she said, patting his tummy gently.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed tiredly.

“You wanna lay down?” Hazel asked.

“Will you hold me for a minute?” Carter asked quietly, turning to press his face into her neck, still burning with fever.

“Of course love,” she answered, heart breaking for her boy.

“I just want to be close to you..” he said, sounding miserable.

“I’m right here,” Hazel pulled him a little closer to her, holding him tight. “Do you feel any better?”

“Mmm belly hurt,” he shrugged.

“I’ll get you some medicine in a minute, before I leave for class,” Hazel said. She scooted out from behind him and helped him lay back down so she could get up.

She grabbed the bucket on her way out, flushing it and cleaning it out. Hazel brought it back then went into the kitchen first to heat up some water for tea, which usually helped Carter’s stomach when it was bothering him. Then she got him some ibuprofen for the fever.

“Here babe, sit up,” she said, sitting at the edge of the couch.

He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaning against Hazel’s shoulder. She pressed the two pills into his hand and then held out the glass of water. He obediently downed the medicine bringing a hand up to cradle his lower belly. Hazel only hoped he could keep it down.

She heard the teapot start whistling so she got up to steep some peppermint tea for him. When she came back Carter was laying down again with his eyes closed.

“Hey I made you some tea, it might help settle your stomach so drink some if you can,” she said, setting it down on the coffee table in front of him.

“Hmm,” he answered noncommittally.

“I have to go to class now. You gonna be okay?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, cracking an eye open to look at her, “Wish you could stay though.”

“I know, I do too,” Hazel brushed his hair out of his eyes then leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Hmph,” he whined, grabbing her wrist to keep her there.

“The bucket is right here, you’ve got water and tea, and there’s ibuprofen right here, you can take another one in a few hours if you need to. And text me if you need anything okay? Just try to sleep I’ll be home before you know it,” she said, kissing his cheek before she headed to her room to grab her backpack, and slipped out. She could only hope he’d be okay by himself all day.

[talamabear]

ate too much, and got indigestion while visiting my parents for the wekeend (home cooking and an incredible red wine!).

i rarely puke, and i don’t like using my fingers too much, so i drank warm water until i was nauseous, then a quick touch to get it going and… there we are.

didn’t feel much better after right away after this, and found myself burping up acid for a couple hours, but woke up refreshed!

[talamabear]

Jitters had too much to drink and throws up in a bowl. I don’t know if you’ve ever had the “Chocovine” beverage that’s on the table, but if you ever want a sure-fire way to end up barfing late at night (or early in the morning) cheap wine blended into chocolate milk is a good option.

[talamabear]

there just arent puke videos on youtube like there used to be....

[talamabear]

A gift to the emeto community! I’m amazed!

Hey y'all, I'm back again with a new pretty special vomit audio. It was my friend's 21st birthday last weekend so of course I had to go hard, but maybe I went a little too hard ;)

This is definitely my best audio tbh. Talking, heavy breathing, a bit of moaning/grunting, and of course loud vomiting and gagging. The audio contains mostly natural vomit, but I do gag myself just a little bit before more waves come up on their own. My gag reflex is so sensitive that it barely takes anything to make me puke, so simply sliding just one of my fingers back down my throat is all I need.

Some timestamps for convenience:

0:00 I begin by talking about how sick I am

1:46 I accidentally kick the doorstop and it makes a noise (oops)

1:51 I puke naturally for the first time

4:04 I burp up a couple of chunks

4:52 I gag myself once and start puking more naturally, continuing for the next few minutes

6:21 I slide my hand down my pants bc I'm horny as shit by this point

9:40 Final remarks

Here's everything that I brought up: some chicken wings, mozzarella sticks, and a few pretzel bites, plus all the alcohol and a lot of water

And here's a photo of my hands so you guys can see what I'm working with and to help your imaginations out ;)

[talamabear]

there are criminally few f/f sickfics in the world

[talamabear]

neither my partner nor i throw up very often, so when i answered their facetime call and saw them sitting at their open window, i knew something was off.

they'd been out drinking for a few hours and had just been dropped off at home.

my stomach hurts, they texted me before leaving the party. i didn't think much of it, figuring they'd be fine in a few hours. that's how it usually went.

but tonight, they were sitting in front of their window, taking deep breaths in through their nose.

"hey," i greeted cautiously, immediately recognizing where they were.

"hi," they replied with a small smile.

"you okay?" i asked.

they nodded. "i'm okay. i feel a little sick, but the fresh air is helping."

"okay, that's good." my insides fluttered with anticipation. of course i wanted them to feel better, but i'll admit, i was actively shoving down that part of me that wanted to see them get sick.

i opened my journal and started to write my daily entry. i heard shuffling coming from their end, and when i looked up a minute later, they were kneeling on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet. they had propped up their phone against the trash can on the ground.

"you okay?" i asked again.

"i don't think i'm going to throw up, but i'll sit here just in case," they said.

i nodded, but found it was difficult to refocus on journaling. my heart was racing. i tried my best not to stare as they laid their head down on the toilet cover.

a few minutes later, they raised their head and slowly lifted the seat up. hovering over the toilet bowl, i could hear their heavy breathing.

"love?" i asked worriedly.

they didn't answer, and instead leaned back onto the heels of their feet, a pained expression on their face.

"it's okay," i quietly reassured them, heart still pounding.

"i don't-" they cut themselves off to swallow. "i don't feel good."

my chest swelled with sympathy. "i know, love, it's okay. let it out."

they leaned back over the toilet bowl, knuckles white from how hard they were gripping the white porcelain.

they gagged weakly a couple times, lightly coughing after each one. then their body convulsed. they retched, and i heard the sound of their stomach contents hitting the water.

they took a breath, then retched again. each gag was more forceful than the last, barely giving them time to breathe before more vomit shot out of their mouth.

"it's okay, you're okay," i found myself repeating.

they coughed, spat, flushed the toilet, and immediately stumbled over to the sink.

at that point, i was in disbelief. there was no way that just happened to me. one of my biggest fantasies came true.

but of course, i was also worried about them. above all, i wished i was there in person to hold their hair and rub their back. i wanted to be there to comfort them.

"whew," they exhaled as they picked up the phone from the bathroom floor.

"do you feel better?"

"yeah, i do," they replied. "sorry you had to hear that."

"don't worry about it," i said, waving a hand dismissively.

"now i can sleep and hope that i don't wake up with the worst hangover of all time," they joked.

i laughed. "hopefully not."

we talked for a bit more after that. they shared some funny stories from the party and i told them about my day. we fell asleep on call that night, and they woke up to only a mild headache.

---

hope you enjoyed my lil irl story! wanted to write it in a fun way so here it is lmao. maybe this will be the bridge into me writing actual sickfics lmao who knows.

[talamabear]

Oh I nearly forgot to post this but my partner threw up last night, not once but twice, and I have some notes:

Weak retches with small sick sounding burps on the end. Not usually into burping related stuff but this was hot.

Silent but productive heaves. Damn.

Gurgling retches. You can literally hear it coming up.

Hearing their stomach make a sickly gurgling noise mere seconds before it all comes pouring out of them. Good heavens I thought this was just a trope, but nope, it’s real.

Forceful, gushes vomit that just rush out in one hugely productive stream. Fucking hell. It’s like their stomach emptied itself in one go. This is how you know their belly felt *really* sick and they’re gonna need some serious caretaking cuz that would’ve really taken it out of them

[talamabear]

A guy pukes while his friend tells a stomach-turning story. An old video I remember from my first forays into YT. The timing is so funny.

[talamabear]

Evacuation in Wartime: The Journey Begins.

As she approached the bus, Carla was feeling both nervous and disappointed, but mostly nervous. The scene in front of the large blonde 18-year-old was full of activity, as the luggage which was strewn all over the broad sidewalk was being slowly stashed into the underneath of their coach. Many of her fellow evacuees were assisting Marco the bus driver, to stow the items, as others lined up to get aboard the coach. As she deposited her own bags, Carla was feeling the anxiety keenly.

The cause of her anxiety was clear enough. The day before they arrived at Douglas, they were told about the surprise cruise missile attack, which had taken out the bridge over Willow River, on the main highway from Douglas to Port Sirius. They had been informed that this cut to the highway would keep them in Douglas for several days, so after they arrived at the deserted Residences late the previous night, they had expected a welcome break in their trek from Darlington. Now they were unexpectedly on the move again, going to join with a military convoy.

The war had been dragging on for nearly a year already, and the front was dangerously close to the city of Darlington. For many weeks, coaches like theirs had been evacuating children and youths. Their group was headed to Port Sirius in two big new busses. One was for the children and the four middle-aged women from the Evac Agency who ran things, while their own coach was for the older girls. Boys, and some especially warlike girls and non-binaries, had stayed behind, and were in the Civil Defense or Ambulance Brigades.

As she stood among the bustling luggage handlers, Carla felt her stress levels go through the roof. All she heard was talk of missiles, and it was making her ill. She shuffled forward, past the line at the front of the bus, in search of some quiet. It was the middle of the afternoon, barely two hours since they had been given notice to get ready for the next leg of the trip, and her enormous lunch was not sitting well at all.

There were some big travel cases propped against the wall up ahead, and Carla carefully eased herself down onto the furthest one. A hundred yards further along, she could see the other bus. In front of her were several other assorted bits of luggage, waiting to be stashed. However, Carla could not stop thinking of the missiles. The combination of worrying, and all the good things she had eaten at the Special Lunch, was making her feel like throwing up.

Another five minutes, and Serena paused while grabbing some bags, to observe the busty blonde perched on the large case. She hefted the luggage, turned towards the bus, and made her way towards the side of the vehicle, where both of the enormous hatches were up. The Fox Twins, Ellie and Emma, were passing, headed to the scattering of bags near where Carla was.

‘Hey guys. You might wanna check on Carla there. She does not look too good’.

‘Sorry, what?’ The twins paused.

‘Oh, it may be nothing. But I was just over there, and Carla seems a bit … sort of … off’.

By now, Carla was queasy, and she knew that she was going to puke. The stress, and the Special Lunch … oh dear, what a deadly combination. It was not really her fault. She could not have known that they were going to be directed back on the road, and in an army convoy of all things. And the Special Lunch had been such a great gesture from the Douglas Evac Committee. All that lovely food, after they had been living off sandwiches, and biscuits scavenged from army ration packs, for the previous two days.

The twins approached Carla, and began to pick up bags.

‘Hey Carla, you might need to get up in a minute, we will have to grab that case you’re on’. The other twin took a closer look at the stricken girl.

‘Hey, you don’t look too good. Are you OK?’ She had turned quite green.

There was a long pause, as Carla tried to get it together. Eventually she spoke, in a wobbly voice.

‘I’m going to vomit everywhere’.

The twins exchanged meaningful glances. Carefully putting down the bags, they took up their positions on either side of Carla, and very gently lifted her to her feet.

‘OK, don’t worry. We’ve got you. Let’s get you over to the side of the pavement’.

The number one priority of the Fox Twins was to get Carla clear of the luggage, before she blew chunks. As for Carla, all she was thinking about now was the plethora of little cheese quiche pies and custard tarts and apricot-filled pastries, and other delicious things, which now filled her stomach. It was all wanting to come back up. Everything. She desperately swallowed another mouthful of salty fluid. Where did it come from? When they were not far from the gutter, she suddenly felt deeply nauseated, and she shook free from the twins. She rushed to the edge of the sidewalk, and crouched forward.

The first thing Carla felt, as she leaned further over, with her hands on her legs just above the knees, was a tight clench and heave, and then her stomach pushing out a gush of hot, bitter liquid. The thin lumpy vomit sloshed down, splashing all over the road surface. Then it was finished.

Behind Carla, the twins and Serena stood in a group, staring at the modest puddle of pale peach-colored barf on the road. The other person who was staring at the mess was Lauren, who was leaning on the side of the bus just in front of the door, only a few inches from the headlamps. Fresh puke splatter was absolutely the last thing Lauren needed to see right now.

After briefly feeling better, Carla was now about to throw up again. She took a breath, closed her eyes, and felt another heave wrack her body. A plume of lumpy sick erupted out of her, exploding forth with unexpected strength. This was a big one. Feeling like a bag of vomit, Carla hurked-up more and more sick. It eventually ended, but then she puked again, just as violently.

The gush became a sloppy dribble, and then it dripped to an end. Little by little, Carla recovered from the awful experience. She stood up straight. Try as she might not to look, she could not help glancing down at the pile of chunky hurlage in front of her. The sight of all the chunks and splatter made her want to throw up again, and so she crept over, several yards towards the bus, and leaned heavily on a power pole there. While the twins and some others cleared away the luggage, Serena went over and stood with her, making sure that she was OK.

‘Are you feeling any better?’

‘I was, but now I think I’m going to be sick again’.

At the bus, Lauren was trying desperately not to look at the pile of puke on the road up ahead. She had been feeling sick all day, although for some reason she had a good appetite when they were at the Special Lunch event. When she had taken up her post at the coach door an hour ago, she intended to supervise the operation, but all she could do was to lean on the bus. Her normal role as unofficial leader of the evacuees was not relevant, as the nausea rose.

With her mouth watering unnaturally, Lauren looked in horror as Carla placed one hand on the power pole, and the other on her leg, and assumed the position. Leaning forward over the gutter, Carla prepared herself for the surge of vomiting, but it never arrived. Burping, and spitting out saliva, she waited in vain, and eventually resumed her former posture. She still felt like she was about to toss her cookies, but nothing was actually happening. It was frustrating.

When Lauren saw Carla resume the crouching position, she prayed that it might be another false alarm. So did Carla, although something told her that it was definitely not going to be a false alarm this time. After a momentary pause, she felt an overwhelming sick feeling sweep over her body, as her abdomen heaved, and her stomach gave up much of its contents.

What Lauren saw then, was Carla dip forward, open her mouth, and then erupt like a volcano. A mostly white avalanche was gushing down for a few moments. It narrowed to a pour, and then continued, until there was a pile a couple of inches thick spread all over the road and into the gutter. After a short hiatus, another long outpouring took place. In the end, the splatter of peach-white barf was at least double the size of the first one. Everybody had stopped what they were doing, and they were transfixed by the spectacle.

After initially stepping away, Serena was now next to Carla, stroking her back, while trying not to breathe through her nose. One of the twins drifted over, with a handful of tissues. It was Emma, and Ella was keeping away, because she had also eaten too much, and was keen to avoid any stimulus that might make her feel unwell.

‘Here you go. Some tissues’.

‘Thanks’. Her voice was harsh and raspy, from all of the vomiting. She began to spit out lumps and clear her nose, and was thankful that she had tied her hair up.

Meanwhile, Lauren had adjusted her position at the front corner of their coach. The small but amazingly fit blonde-brunette had inched her way forward, so that she now had a clear view of the gutter, just in case. The strong aroma of freshly puked up vomit was all around. Feeling dizzy and really unwell, Lauren was cursing herself for lacking discipline, and eating nearly a whole plate of mini apple pies, each one topped with sugar and a dob of cream. They were repeating on her now.

The two big square hatches came down, and were securely locked, as the last few evacuees in the line stepped up into the coach. With Serena and Ella escorting her, Carla also ascended into the coach, and was sat down in the window seat directly behind the driver’s compartment. Outside, Lauren was still leaning on the front corner of the vehicle, preparing to throw up everywhere. Her whole body was aching, and she was coming to the conclusion that she had the stomach flu.

With hands on his hips, standing on the sidewalk, Marco the driver watched the last but one of his passengers go aboard. Then he waited for Lauren, who was the boss when the Committee ladies were not there, to give the all clear and get aboard. She seemed not to notice him.

‘Excuse me’. Nothing happened, and in fact Lauren was getting ready to hurl all over the road in front of the bus. ‘Excuse me. Miss Lauren!’

When Lauren turned, she saw Marco pointing anxiously to the open door of the coach. It was time to go, and she forced herself to not feel like hurling everywhere. With a brave face but as pale as a ghost, she labored up the steep steps, and across the section of floor next to the driver’s compartment, then she stepped up to the aisle. She would definitely be needing to get off the bus to throw up, and it made sense to take the first aisle seat, next to Carla.

When Marco was behind the controls, he used his phone to check with the other driver, in the bus in front of them. Then, both busses roared into life, and they pulled out, slowly making their way to the main road out of town. Slumped in her chair at the front of the coach, Lauren was having difficulty keeping her lunch down, as they drove towards the checkpoint on the outskirts of Douglas. Next to her, Carla had tilted her chair back and appeared to be asleep.

Since shortly after the missile had destroyed the bridge, trucks and other vehicles had been obliged to pull over and form a long queue. The soldiers waved the two busses through, past the long line of stalled highway users. They were heading to a place called Base Delta, located a couple of miles beyond the military checkpoint just up ahead. They would be joining the convoy which was to traverse a newly enhanced back road, by-passing the defunct bridge.

The bus trundled through the checkpoint, waved on by soldiers in uniform, and was headed to Base Delta, when Carla suddenly opened her eyes. Without any warning, she pitched forward, and puked on the floor. She was bent right over, retching again and again, but except for the initial gush of barf, hardly anything was coming up. The smell was not good.

By the time the Base was visible, to the side of a gentle rise, Lauren was swallowing bitter saliva, and she thought that she was about to blow for certain. Feeling a heave coming on, she quickly slapped her hand across her mouth. They were nearly there, and all she needed to do was to hang on until they stopped at the Base, then she could get off, and hopefully find a bush to be sick behind. That was the plan.

From small beginnings at the start of the conflict, in a field used to graze sheep, Base Delta had become a large gravel square, surrounded by rows of trucks, mobile artillery, shipping containers, and a large array of army tents. The two coaches drove into the square and parked, near some other vehicles painted army green, and a cluster of uniformed military people. The door opened, and Marco swung across onto the floor area, then down the steps, and out.

Through the open door swept the acrid scent of diesel fuel and exhaust fumes, making Lauren once again grip her mouth, and narrowly escape hurling. She glanced at the open door. Now was her chance to escape from the confines of the bus, and finally do what had to be done. There was no bush to dash behind, but she did not care anymore. She began to stand up.

Just as Lauren started to rise from her chair, there was a flurry of activity. Having received curt instructions from the captain, Marco had re-entered the coach, and was bounding up the steps. Confused, Lauren subsided back down in her chair. The engine roared, the doors slammed shut, and the coach began to exit the compound. As they left the Base, and joined the military trucks on the road, all Lauren could think of was the apple pastries, and the cream which was bringing her so close to throwing up.

The convoy crawled up the remaining part of the rise, and at the top, turned off onto a narrow side road. Everywhere there was evidence of the army engineers, roughly fixing up the humble country road, so that large trucks could use it. And busses.

As the coach headed down a long and mostly straight stretch, Lauren felt a weird sick feeling, and her face became hot. They were halfway down, when she jumped up out of her seat, stepped down onto the floor next to the driver’s alcove, and began begging Marco to pull over.

‘Stop the bus. I’m going to throw up’.

‘Go back to your seat’.

‘No. You don’t understand. I need to be sick. … *URP* … You have to stop the bus. NOW’

‘Really sorry, Miss Lauren. We’re not allowed to stop. We’re in convoy. No stops allowed. Back to your seat’.

He did not say it, but Marco was very concerned that Lauren might blow chunks all over the controls of the coach. He wanted her as far away as possible, and was furiously waving her to go back. Just up ahead was the first bend of the eighteen which would take them zig-zagging up the steep hill.

Defeated, Lauren turned away from the driver, and faced the coach full of evacuees. She took some shuffling steps to the edge, and was about to step up to the aisle, when they hit the tight bend. Almost losing her balance, Lauren grabbed the corner of the barrier, which was between the first two seats on the non-driver side, and the steps to the door.

As she tightly gripped the rail, she stood there, and looked at the faces. Many of them were staring at her. The bad feeling had returned, and before she could stop it, her body shuddered, her stomach clenched, and a fountain of sick began flooding out of her. As more and more puke poured forth, Lauren went from a standing posture to a bending one. There was spew going everywhere.

They were out of the bend, and headed for the second one, when Lauren barfed up another torrent of lumpy white vomit onto the floor at the end of the aisle, thickly covering it. She barely had time to get her breath, when a third cascade blurted out, further inundating the aisle. This one refused to stop, as the half-digested pastries and liquid kept pouring down. It finally ended, and she stepped up and resumed her seat, just as they were about to negotiate the second switchback bend.

Most of the passengers had stared at Lauren as she threw up, with those in aisle seats getting an especially good view of the entire catastrophe. What a way to begin the journey.

[talamabear]

Always

A/N: This is set early in Mira & Maggie’s relationship.  When Mira gets sick, she learns something… *new*… about Maggie.  {This is the first time I’ve written a ‘kink reveal’ on this blog - enjoy!}

*vomit warning*

*contains mild sexual content/kink talk*

She should have known this was coming.  She should have known when her belly felt bloated as she zipped up her dress hours ago, or when she burped at the museum and tasted acid, or when Maggie had asked if she was alright because she ‘looked a little upset.’  Only she wasn’t upset - she was… sick.

And it was all too clear now, as she sat in this fancy restaurant, a fork full of pasta in her mouth - her stomach was gurgling, protesting, fighting her as she swallowed down yet another queasy burp.  She took a quiet breath through her nose, telling herself that it was okay.  She just had to make it through the meal…  because she would not be sick in front of Maggie, Maggie who she was… falling in love with.  She looked up, smiling despite herself as Maggie watched her over the rim of her wine glass, hazel eyes heavy with desire.  “How is it?” Maggie asked, setting her glass down without breaking her gaze.

“It’s… good,” Mira replied slowly, swallowing.  She saw Maggie’s eyes narrow slightly and immediately added, “This is a really nice place, thanks for taking me here.”  She meant it, even if she had to force the smile that followed.  Maggie just smiled back, taking another bite of her fish.  Fish, ugh, no… don’t think about it…  “How’s yours?”

Maggie lowered her fork and took another sip of wine, ignoring the question entirely. “You look gorgeous tonight, Mira.”  

There was that look again.  It made Mira shiver a little, made her warm and happy despite how sick her stomach was beginning to feel.  “Thank you,” she murmured.  “So do you.”  She swallowed, lowering her fork as Maggie had, unable to continue eating.  She refused to touch her stomach - she knew she was bloated, and confirming it would just add to the anxiety building in her chest.  

“Are you… alright?”  Maggie bit the inside of her cheek, silently scolding herself for asking.  But she just… couldn’t help it, Mira looked so uncomfortable.  She’d barely eaten half of her food, and had been swallowing down burps the whole meal (as if Maggie wouldn’t notice…)

Mira felt her cheeks flush and bit her tongue in an attempt to control her reaction.  Why did Maggie have to be so damn observant…  “I’m fine, yeah, just… full.”  Another burp tried to come up, another swallow.  She felt Maggie’s foot rub against her leg under the table and did her best to fight nerves… she could tell Maggie was in a mood, and normally she would be too, only… her stomach was… oh god… nausea…  She thought about moving to the bathroom but decided to just stay put for the moment - moving might be a bad idea.  Maybe if she could just let things settle a little, she’d feel well enough to get home…  “I think I’m ready to leave, whenever you are.”  

Of course she wants to go home.  She’s sick, isn’t she?  Fuck…  Maggie crossed her legs, trying to ignore the warmth between them.  This was wrong.  Mira didn’t know about her kink, didn’t know that Maggie had been covertly watching her belly all night, from the moment she’d seen her and noticed she was bloated.   Ugh, she looks so… good, though…  But she couldn’t tell her that, not here, not now.  “Alright, I’ll get the check.”

Mira saw something flash in Maggie’s eyes, something she couldn’t quite pin down.  Excitement, maybe?  No… there’s something else… Mira wondered what she was missing as Maggie flagged their waiter, trying to engage passively as Maggie talked, nodding and smiling when it seemed appropriate.  

Finally, finally it was time to leave.  Maggie swallowed a warm sigh as she watched Mira stand, clearly feeling worse now, cheeks flushed and legs a little unsteady.  Luckily Mira didn’t see the look on Maggie’s face, attention focused on staying calm even though her skin felt hot and her stomach was churning, gurgling unhappily.  Automatically she laid a hand over it, trying to calm things, forgetting where she was or who she was with.  

“Are you sure you’re alright, Meer?”  Maggie moved to her side, touching her elbow.  She knew the answer, but despite the warmth she was worried.  Mira’s stomach was so big, now… much bigger than earlier… and she looked like she might throw up at any moment.

Mira swallowed hard, nodding as she took her hand off her belly and forced herself to smile at Maggie.  “I’m… fine, sorry.  I need some air, I think.”  She headed toward the exit, avoiding Maggie’s eyes, letting herself burp quietly.  It didn’t help.  Pushing open the heavy door, she walked straight to the corner and waited near Maggie’s car, hand on a lamppost for support as she sucked in cool, fresh air.  

Maggie approached quietly, unsure of what Mira needed, how close she was to getting sick.  She stopped beside her and placed a hand on her lower back, gentle.  Mira shivered, and Maggie kissed her hair.  “Any better?”

Mira just shook her head, mortified that this was happening.  She knows I’m sick.  Fuck, this is so embarrassing.  “No, I…” her voice caught and she swallowed saliva.  “…I don’t feel well, I’m sorry…”

Oh god.  Maggie swallowed warmth, resisting the urge to nuzzle Mira’s neck, rub her stomach and kiss her mouth.   “Oh, that’s… don’t apologize, babe.”  A pause, then…  “Is it your stomach?”

Mira nodded.  “I’m sorry, I just… I just need to lay down, I think.  Can you take me home?”

Knowing Mira needed to do a lot more than lay down, Maggie nodded.  “If you think you might get sick, just tell me and I’ll pull over, alright?”  Mira just swallowed hard and nodded again.

Ten minutes later, after a quiet drive punctuated by sick gurgles from Mira’s belly, they reached Mira’s apartment.  The moment the car stopped Mira unbuckled her seatbelt and got out without a word, heading up the walkway to the building door, fishing for her keys.  She could hear Maggie’s footsteps behind her.  No, don’t follow me, please…  But then Maggie was beside her, helping her unlock the door, accompanying her inside.  “I… you don’t have to stay, I’m… okay.”  But when they reached the stairs, Mira paused. Oh god, not stairs…

“Let me just help you up, okay?”  Maggie’s voice was calm, arousal buried beneath genuine concern.  Mira nodded, granting silent permission.  She was dizzy, Maggie could tell by the way she was swaying slightly, the way she clutched at the railing as she climbed.  Maggie steadied her, arm around her waist, carefully avoiding her upset stomach.

They’d just entered the apartment when Mira froze, hand over her belly, breathing heavily through her mouth.  “I’m… *urrrpp* I’m going to be sick…”

Yes, she is.  That burp was signal enough, it sounded awful.  Maggie shut the door and guided Mira to the bathroom, helping her kneel by the toilet and pulling her hair back.  Mira burped again, deep and wet, eyes closing as she grimaced in pain.  “I… I…”  She couldn’t get the words out, saliva making it impossible to speak as her stomach began to cramp and twist, forcing up more air.

“Shhh, don’t try to talk, it’s okay.  You’re sick, baby.”  Maggie rubbed her back gently, trying to calm her.  “Just let yourself burp it up, you’ll feel better…”  She unzipped Mira’s dress, knowing her stomach was swollen and the fabric was too tight.  Fuck, this is so hot, why is this always so hot…  

Mira was trembling, breathing shallow and fast now, tummy gurgling beneath her unzipped dress.  Oh god, that feels better but… oh god… no, no, no…  She burped up something acidic and dark-colored - wine-tinted bile, maybe - and spat it out in disgust.  

“That’s it, just like that…”  Maggie’s words were murmured, arousal masked by calm reassurance.

Mira trembled, pressing on her stomach gently.  Oh, I’m… so bloated… oh.. oh fuck…  Her belly clenched and lurched, and suddenly her dinner was in her throat, a gush of undigested food rushing out of her mouth and splashing into the water.  She coughed, choking a little, then belched loudly - a strangled, wet sound immediately followed by a productive burp that brought up even more thick liquid.  It stopped long enough for her to catch her breath in ragged gasps, eyes watering, nose stuffy.  “Oh my god, I’m sorry… that was… oh…”

Maggie kissed her shoulder.  She was getting wet, now, very warm and incredibly turned on.  Luckily Mira was distracted and facing away from her.  “Do you feel better…”  

“A… little, but I… don’t know if I’m done…”  Mira swallowed and grimaced at the bitter taste in her mouth, tummy still gurgling, upset.  This is awful… “My stomach really hurts… I’m so embarrassed, I’m sorry…”

Don’t be embarrassed, Mira, holy fuck… “It’s okay, you’re sick, darling…”  Mira’s stomach gurgled again and she whimpered, leaning forward over the bowl and burping several times in a row, each sounding sicker than the last. Maggie clenched her thighs together, trying not to moan, longing to touch Mira’s tummy but not wanting to make her uncomfortable.  She settled for adjusting her grip on Mira’s hair and rubbing her shoulder, gentle.

Seconds later Mira’s stomach turned over and a gurgling burp brought up a flood of vomit, hot and bitter as it showered into the toilet.  She could barely keep herself upright now, body trembling, blood pounding in her ears.  After a moment she flushed the toilet and turned slightly, taking the pressure off her knees and tucking a sweaty strand of hair behind her ear.  She tried not to look at Maggie, tried to get up but found her legs too weak.  “Easy…” Maggie said quietly, steadying her and propping her up against the wall as she left to search for a washcloth and a glass of water.

Mira sat against the wall, watching her chest rise and fall, trying to calm down, trying to convince herself that Maggie wasn’t going to leave and never come back.  Even though she might, because that was awful, because she was an adult who should have known better than to eat dinner on a sick stomach, should have known— her thoughts dissolved when Maggie reappeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water and a damp towel.  “How do you feel, Meer?” 

Mira just smiled slightly, swallowing her relief.  “I… I’m okay…”  She shifted.  “I need to change.”

Maggie nodded, setting the glass on the counter and offering Mira a hand.  She couldn’t help but notice that Mira was still bloated, her stomach obviously still sick even after she’d thrown up so much.  Mira’s hand felt clammy, skin too warm.  Maggie pulled her up and into a hug, rubbing her back and kissing her hair.  “I’m sorry you’re so sick.”

Mira relaxed into Maggie’s arms, forgetting her embarrassment for a moment, face pressed to Maggie’s chest.  “I was worried you were… going to leave…”

Maggie pulled back slightly, surprised.  “Leave?  You mean… just now?”  Mira nodded, eyes closed.  “Why?”

“Because that was.. awful, I… haven’t thrown up in front of anyone since I was small.  And I… ruined our night.”  Mira pulled out of the hug, suddenly shy.  

“I have to tell you something,” Maggie said, taking Mira’s hand and leading her into her bedroom.  Mira watched her carefully, vision a little blurry now, exhaustion beginning to take over.  What does that mean…?  Maggie let her sit on the bed and looked at the dresser, then back at Mira.  “Tell me where to find comfy clothes?”  

Mira smiled a little, nodding her head toward the bottom drawer.  “Bottom… just my sweats and any shirt.  Thank you.”  Her voice was soft, grateful.  Maggie smiled and retrieved them, still in her black dress, still looking as gorgeous as ever.  “Here, I’ll help you change…”  She sat beside her and slipped Mira’s unzipped dress off her shoulders, eyeing her belly.

“What did you want to tell me?” Mira murmured, letting Maggie undress her.  Maggie went still, pausing at Mira’s waist and pulling back.  Is she… blushing?  “What is it?”

Maggie took a deep breath, then turned to Mira and smiled.  “We haven’t… talked too much about kinks, yet…”  Mira just watched her, wondering where in the world this was going.  “But one of mine is stomach-related, so… I am sorry you’re sick, I don’t like seeing you in pain, but… I’m very warm, right now.”  

Eyes wide, Mira looked down, considering this.  Maggie touched her cheek and made eye contact, no longer bothering to hide her arousal.  Mira saw it, now, and saw the way Maggie’s eyes drifted down to her stomach.  “You… liked watching me throw up?”  

Maggie smiled and nodded.  “I.. did, yes.  I know it’s strange.  And I know you feel awful, I don’t— I’ll never expect anything when you’re sick, I just thought you should know that you definitely didn’t ‘ruin’ the night.”  

Mira shifted, trying to process this new information.  “Why do you like it?  I mean - what do you like about it?”

Maggie smiled.  “I’m not sure why, exactly.  But I’ve always liked stomachaches and anything related to them - especially burping, nausea, vomiting.  I know it’s unusual, trust me.  But…”  She looked down at Mira’s stomach again, put one hand over it gently, sighing.  “Seeing your belly like this is… nice…”

Mira looked down at Maggie’s hand on her belly, amazed.  “You… like it?  I’m so bloated, though…”

“Oh, I know,” Maggie murmured, kissing her forehead.

Mira swallowed, then made herself burp, deep but short.  “And you… like that?”

“Mmhmm, I do…” Maggie gave her a warm smile, starting to rub Mira’s tummy softly.

“Oh god… whoa, that feels… so good…”  Mira sighed with relief, her muscles relaxing slightly, Maggie’s hand warm against her skin.

“Have you ever had your belly rubbed before?” Maggie purred, edging closer to her.

“No, I… I don’t think I have, actually…” Mira sounded breathless.  “Ohhh…. sorry it hurts, oh…”  She touched the left side of her stomach, wincing.

Maggie immediately moved her hand up to the achy spot and pressed gently.  “Just a cramp, babe.”  Her face was close to Mira’s now, eyes lingering on her lips before moving away.  No, that’s too much, I can’t.

Mira tugged her dress down further, freeing her swollen stomach completely.  “I… *urrp* don’t feel good, Mag.”  She caught Maggie’s look at her lips.  Ugh, she looks so gorgeous, and she’s so clearly turned on… but… “I… don’t want you to get sick, babe.”

Maggie looked at her, something dark in her eyes.  “I know, but… I’ve probably already caught it…”  Mira sat frozen, watching Maggie’s eyes, letting her run a hand through her hair.  And then her face was close again, other hand still rubbing at her cramps.  Oh god, oh god she’s going to kiss me, and I… fuck, I want her to…  Maggie paused with her lips near Mira’s ear, whispering, “Can I kiss you, baby?”

“Yes… yes…”  The words were barely audible.  Mira moaned as Maggie kissed her mouth, kissing back deeply, suddenly warm herself despite feeling sick to her stomach.  “Ohhh, Maggie…”

“If you lay back I can rub your tummy more, Meer…”  

Mira nodded, stealing one more kiss before moving to comply.  When she shifted her stomach cramped again; she clutched at it, groaning. “Ohh god, my stomach hurts…”  Wincing, she burped, then leaned back against the pillows, whimpering a little.  A soft moan made her look up, finding Maggie right next to her, looking at her in a way that made Mira shiver.  

“You’re… making me so warm, babe,” Maggie smiled, leaning down to kiss her chest.  “But I know you’re sick, just tell me what you need…”

“I need you to rub my stomach, it felt… so good… would you?”

“Say that again,” Maggie murmured, reaching back to unzip her dress as Mira crawled under the covers.

Mira eyed her, confused for a moment.  Mmm, maybe she likes when I whine? Okay… “I… really need you to rub my belly, Mag, I don’t feel well…”

Maggie growled, a sound Mira had only heard several times before, and always during sex.  “Oh I know you don’t, poor girl…”

Mira felt her cheeks flush.  Wow, she’s so turned on, this is incredible… “Can you… kiss me again?”

Maggie looked at her, a little surprised that Mira was so game for playing.  Mmm, she’s so… wow.  “I think I can manage that…”  Maggie slid under the covers, letting Mira curl up against her, kissing her hair and then her mouth, moving her hand back to her sick stomach and rubbing gently.  Mira groaned, cuddling closer and burping quietly.  

“Thank you, Mag…”  Mira’s eyes fell shut as she sighed, hurting but content.  

Maggie just nodded, kissing the top of her head.  “Always.”

[talamabear]

£5 top surgery fundraiser commissions?

This might be a totally shit idea but I’m currently trying to raise money for top surgery so I was thinking of doing some super simple commissions for like a koofi donation of £5 for say 1000 word ficlet

Idk if anyone would even be interested in that but I would aim for a pretty quick turnaround (like 24/48hrs) and could easily do it with characters A/B so you can explore your favourite tropes or things you’ve been wanting to see. Also happy to use character names or OCs with a basic bit of background on them first.

If you’re interested in my writing style you can find examples of my sickfic work on AO3 under ash_the_elf

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Things I’m happy to do:

Emeto, fever, general illness stuff, injury, whump, snez, scat (in the context of illness)

Things I would avoid:

Anything blatantly nsfw or explicit or obviously anything illegal ie minors etc etc. I will also not be able to accept commissions from minors for obvious reasons

If you have any questions I’m more than happy to answer what I will and won’t write etc

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I would share my actual go fund me but think that’s probably not a good idea due to privacy/ anonymity and doxing stuff

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Please help a trans guy out and let me know if you would be interested!!

(Before I lop these suckers off w the garden shears lmao /hj )