hi! welcome to my emeto blog || Minors DNI || Comms: OPEN | Reqs: OPEN | Askbox: always OPEN | NSFW / Emeto KINK || call me dana | 20s | they/them | writer artist emetophile || danafeelingdown on ao3
ABOUT ME: call me dana | 24 | they/them | writer and artist | nsf/w | big fan of emeto and suffering | english is not my first language
⢠our timezones might be different, please be patient (and nice) | ⢠don't ask for unnecessary personal information | ⢠don't repost my stuff, reblogs are appreciated though | i don't RP (too awkward ;/)
in no particular order, my interests are: emetophilia (vomiting) | graphic depictions of illness | whump (most genres) | sickfic / emeto fic | hurt and comfort / all hurt no comfort | fluff | writing prompts | femme / masc / non-binary sickies | caretaking (romantic / platonic / familial) | stuffing / overeating / light feedism / bloating | belly kink | sneezing | crying | eructophilia (burping) | coughing | omorashi (p!ss kink / wetting) | nsft / nsf.w | original characters | x you / x reader /x y/n | self-inserts / muses | smut | teratophilia / monster fucker | guro/eroguro | angst
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i canât attach the picture i wanted, but in the new ZZZ story both Billy and Cissia get motion sick after an event and it reminded me of something youâd enjoy
i sawwwwwww!!! holy fuck, his voice. he sounds like he's about to puke. it's so hot.
my partner was playing the game sitting beside me and just, wordlessly handed me the phone when this scene came on. my face got warm. i love billy so much.
haven't played the game directly since launch, but when i saw 5 star billy i jumped right into it. i got him on guaranteed, but like, he's not being used for anything other than drawing ref.
i really wanna draw him. need to make him puke, but i don't think i'm into the whole mask thing i came up with on my last drawings of him.
drew these a while ago! for some reason (and i know exactly the reason it's because they gave us c.aine angst) c.aine flipped that switch in my brain and now i'm obsessed with him. i'm not 100% sure how to draw him, don't like him in my style, but i had to draw him
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Tysm to @danafeelingsick for the comm to go with it <3
After a long night out partying at the Garrison, I had too practically drag John home. He always drinks a lot when he's with his brothers or when he's partying. However, last night I knew he must have overdone it when he started laying his head on my shoulder in the booth tiredly. No longer wanting to go out to dance and mingle, mumbling slurred complaints in the crook of my neck. Tugging on his tie and collar whilst trying to swallow whiskey fuled belches rolling out of his gut. I tired at first to help him up, but I couldn't even lift him in his drunken state. I eventually had to get Tommy and Arthur to help him into my car, and now i'm just trying to get him home in one piece.
"I feel fucking sick..."
I hear John mutter to himself sitting aside me while trying to shakily light a cigarette, the movements of the car causing him to cringe under every bump. He pulls off his tie and unbuttons his collar and pants, still just groaning holding his stomach gently, face hot with intoxication and humiliation. I lean over and put my hand on his thigh, reassuring him that he just drank too much and it's nothing to be embarrassed about. he had at least five drinks from what I saw anyways, I really just hope he doesn't get sick in the car. seeing from how bloated he looks at the moment it certainly isn't an irrational worry. He savored the cigarette before tossing the butt out the window. luckily, we manage to get home with only a few stray gags out the window. I do my best to help him up the steps but suddenly his head hangs down and his hand reached for his mouth.
"No no- John, honey, please not on the stairs."
I plead with him still trying to help him up, I put my hand on his back and rub in gentle circles. Taking off his coat and hat I lead him at last inside the doorframe.
"Just breathe ok, we are almost to the bathroom. You poor thing, why on earth would you drink so much."
I coo at him while I hang up his hat, he only weakly nods in response. once we make it to the bathroom I sit him down and he doubles over again, retching into his hand and I try to back up but only a small string on spit falls of his tongue. I sigh with relief, gently comforting him as much as I can. most of his responses are incoherent, I just kindly agree and pretend to understand. I guide him to the toilet and he grips it the second his hands touch it, gripping it like it's the only thing holding him steady. The instant I rest my hand back on his back he lets out a forceful retch, his abs clenching tightly. While heâs gasping and coughing I realize that once again, nothing came up. I watch him try and weakly gag into the toilet.
"I'm try- *hic* -ing, I-"
John stutters out, barely intelligible. I just reassure him once again, hating to see him struggle I start thumping on his back with the heel of my palm and he finally lets out another real heave, followed by a thick wet burp.
"*hhuuuuurrp* ugh-"
he spits into the bowl and groans, shifting around uncomfortably. I thump a bit harder on his back this time, not enough to hurt but enough to be firm. another low groan falls from his lips and this time I hear a huge gush of all of that whisky finally hit the water. he coughs and sputters hardly able to even catch his breath between waves.
"There we go, that must feel better."
"mhmm-"
He hums weakly, sinking back into my lap as he pulls the flush. I reach for a towel and wipe his mouth gently, hiccups now starting to rack his chest. Wrapping my arms around him and petting his soft hair I think to myself.. this is gonna be a long night. After he catches his breath he mutters out,
â âm done, le *hic* mme go to bed.â
Before I can respond John hoisted himself up and while walking out, kicking off his shoes and pants hardly staying upright. I go into the kitchen and get a metal bucket from under the sink. I set it by his bed and curl up with him, choosing not to protest his want to sleep, knowing he must be tired. I try to stay awake so I can keep my eye on him, I realize Iâve fallen asleep when I get woken up by harsh retch.
âHuuurrrkk- hic- guhhhh-â
John groans out sounding in pain and straining, clutching over his tense stomach. I roll over and watch him spit in the bucket a few times, mumbling swears and complaints under his breath.
âShhhhh itâs ok youâll feel better after.â
I add lovingly, and my words or encouragement seem to help as again after who knows how long this time, another big wave comes up. I mentally pat myself on the back for getting that bucket, knowing there was no way he was done even though I was almost sure I heard him miss at least a tad. He starts to sweat and shake with the heaves as they get weaker and weaker, there is hardly anything left in his stomach at this point, I was almost sure of it. Now all that was coming out were these small but still wet belches but he was still hanging himself over the side of the bed and gripping the sheets until his knuckles were white. Maybe all the air trapped was making it so hard I think to myself, trying to be quiet as to not disturb him or embarrass him more than he surely already was. I sat up a bit and put my hands on his shoulders and started to message them tenderly, hoping to bring him so kind of comfort. After a few more minutes of weak burps and a few more gags, his stomach clenched again with such force I thought for sure he was going to get sick again. A big airy belch erupted from his gut, catching his breath in his throat and causing him to cough a bit more but at last he let out such a genuine sigh of relief I couldnât help but smile. Knowing it mustâve felt really good in the end. He slumped back down and settled in to bed once again. Taking the blanket I wipe his sweat of his forehead and plant a kiss on his head. He went to sleep fairly quick after that even though I could still hear the occasional gurgling coming from his stomach and chest. I curl up to him, holding him and rubbing his stomach when it gets loud or he stirs. I hoped he would feel better in the morning, I would take care of him in the morning. I loved getting a chance to take care of him, he never rested. Tommy never let him. I would make sure he had a very lazy day in the morning.
been missing here too ^^ it's been hectic lately, but i've been doing pretty good!
i don't know if i said it here, but i moved to new city and started college! ya boy is being social after years of hiding in a cave. so i haven't had much time to draw.
aaa i want it tho! c//aine has become my newest hyperfix after episode 8 (still love w.aterboy have a couple fics of him to finish) and it's so sad i can't draw him well. don't like how he looks in my style, but i might post a doodle sometime!
just turning the street saw a guy drunk vomiting on all fours. some of his friends were around him, one was rubbing his back,. it was a big puddle of liquid, but god, he looked so sick so sexy
Summary: Set between the events of RE 9 and RE8 village where Leon and Chris finally get some time to themselves to hang out
Leonâs body wasnât in the best shape, truthfully, hadnât been for years, but heâd like to think that after at least a few years or so sober, his body had started healing to some degree.
Hangovers were never pretty, but this time while he stumbles into awareness and wakefulness he realizes that he doesnât feel hung over.
Being hung over carried a distinctive feeling Leon knew like the back of his hand, especially with how much it felt like it mocked him.
The pounding headaches the taste of regret that would soak his body so thoroughly when it was cloaked with sweat that smelled of whisky.
Yeah he was used to it. Which is why he knows that this feeling, the one that greets him upon opening his eyes this time is different.
He lays there for a moment the world a tad hazy around him as his hand wanders upward to rest on his belly.
It was bareâŚno shirtâŚ
Ah right it took him a second to remember but he realized that he was home in bed. And from the darkness in his bedroom it was still nighttime.
Leon sighed leaning his head back although he scowled when he noticed that he felt a bit strange.
Not exactly bad, kinda queasy which wasnât surprising considering heâd gone to a bar with Chris to hang out and just play darts and pool.
Leon had abstained from drinking that night but with excitement and happiness in the air he hadnât realized how much food he wound up gorging himself on.
Pretzels, pizzas, chips, hot wings, the works really. Then again, with how busy he was, such a luxury that was peaceful free time available for him to hang out with friends was worth feeling like a beached whale for a bit.
By the end of the night heâd been sluggish and exhausted but also packed full in a strangely nice way. All the food becoming a comfortable mass in his gut before he passed out in bed once he got home.
That had been a few hours ago however when heâd woken up now it had been to that same mass of food sitting heavily in his belly as it actively gurgled and growled noisily around it.
Beneath his hand he noticed how tight his stomach was, having domed out beneath his fingers as it gurgled like a bubbling pot. Not to mention the heaviness as well as if someone had placed rocks in his gut.
He flinched, giving a soft hiss when a loud hiccup slipped from between his slightly parted lip.
The sickening heaviness in his gut seemed as if it wouldnât leave him alone and he grimaced when his fingers pressed on a section of his bloated gut that had a harsh ache rolling through his body.
It stabbed at his core with cold precision before blooming outwards in a way that stole his breath.
âShitâŚâ Leon whispered to himself clutching a bit tighter at his stomach.
For a moment he closed his eyes, swallowing when that cold slimy queasiness that had been hiding in the background since he woke up seemed to swiftly rise swelling like an ocean wave.
Nausea rolled through his belly like a storm clouds over the ocean, Leon gave another thick swallow when his stomach made an almost unhappy burbling noise.
That wasnât goodâŚnot at all.
A gurgling belch rolled out of his mouth from the near deepest pits of his stomach, the noise leaving his throat stinging and the sour taste of something spoiled in the back of his throat.
The realization has Leon cursing softly, of course the one time in a few months he had the chance for time off and took it he got food poisoning. It was just his luck.
Another shuddering breath leaves his lips as his gut roils, the mass of food that refused to break down and digest feeling as though a boulder were being pushed up a hill.
Leon shivers slightly when the cold air gently brushes across his clammy sweat covered skin.
He opens one eye gaze going to the bathroom door and then a nearby trash can across the room.
He finds his hand on his stomach once more attempting to slow down what would inevitably have to happen.
He closed his eyes against another swell of nausea that rolled through him tugging a soft whimper from his lips.
His adams apple bobs in his throat at another particular wet swallow as he seemed to be fighting the inevitable with tooth and nail especially when his stomach lurched slightly beneath his hand.
A tinge of stinging stomach acid splashed at the back of his throat, hot, sour and slimy.
Leonâs other hand comes up to cover his own mouth when the retaste of the tainted food in his gut makes him gag. His body lurches forward with a retch immediately afterwards as he grips the edge of the bed with one hand trying to swallow back the coppery tasty pools of salvia rapidly filling his mouth.
He managed to sit up on the edge of the bed, and the sudden change of gravity leaves him reeling eyes fluttering for a moment as a dizzying nausea grips him so tightly it leaves him disoriented.
A low nauseated groan slips from his mouth as he sways in place, his breathing ragged. He hears his belly give a sickly growling noise like a pop of water giving one last time before it overflows.
The first retch has him lurching forward to the point he nearly slides off the bed, as thick paste like vomit coats the hand he still had pressed over his mouth spraying through the cracks between his fingers before splattering on the hardwood floor.
He shuddered in disgust cringing as he quickly lowered his hand trying to ignore the slimy, oatmeal like sensation of his own stomach contents slipping between his fingers.
It was almost searing hot and absolutely vile.
For a second Leon sits there panting and swallowing rapidly, eyes glassy with unshed tears.
But he canât move even though heâs attempting to will his body to at least try stumbling to the trash can, itâs almost like it was locked up.
As another wave of violent nausea rolls over him, cold and slimy as it curls around his gut within the very pits of it leaving goosebumps on his arms.
He groans resigning himself to his fate as he shakily manages to lean forward just a bit more when hiccups began jolting his stomach, each one growing increasingly wet before a long, heavy burp rolled out of him reeking of nothing but sickness and nausea that left more of that thick lumpy beige vomiting spewing from his lips.
It splattered heavily on the floor, almost in a congealed pile, what pieces of food that had been off when heâd gorged himself on them at the bar seemed as if they hadnât even tried to digest.
Shaking, groaning loudly and shivering Leon manages to slide from the edge of the bed, to his hands and knees on the floor over the mess. Tendrils of drool drip lazily from his mouth adding a glossy sheen to the congealed vomit on the floor.
Leon wrapped an arm around his stomach, his blue eyes squeezed closed and tears clinging to his lashes as he does his best to ride with the nausea, not fight it.
He knows that giving in is the best way to make it stop, he knows that getting it out of him is probably the best course of action considering the food was tainted and a lost cause but fuck if he doesnât hate it.
Itâs not even the lost of control that was the issue, but more so that it felt like life was ready to kick him down the stairs at every corner. A punishment for his own survival.
Leon began coughing curling into a ball when it felt like a vice grip was squeezing his stomach, his face draining of color even more.
He hears a voice at least he thinks he does forcing his eyes open to see Chris approaching from the living room where heâs passed out on the sofa asleep earlier at first the other looked half asleep until he saw the mess on the floor and the state Leon was in.
âWoah! Shit okay,â The other man approached rather quickly crouching down beside Leon. His hands reached out hesitantly pausing only for a moment before resting his hand on the otherâs back.
Despite his current state of misery Leon squinted up at Chris before managing to speak. âHowâŚthe hell are you fine?â He moaned his throat working as he swallowed convulsively. As if that would stop his stomach from aching like a balloon long overfilled and churning like a mixing bowl at full blasted.
Chris gave a soft chuckle. âCan handle anything after eating the stuff Claire made when we were kids.â
Leon gave a sickly groan leaning forward when he gagged threads of bile dripping from his lips, still trying to keep the mess in one place.
Chris cringed, his eyes roving over Leon for a moment assessing him, the heavily glazed look in the otherâs eyes, the way his breathing was coming out in ragged panting accompanied by wet swallows as the drool trickling from his lips seemed to speed up.
Leonâs back arched beneath Chrisâs hand as the other went to the manâs bangs holding them back for him, somewhere in very distant back of his mind Chris thinks something about all this, the way Leon looks feels kinda right although he ignores that thought more focused on helping the other.
Leon whimpered a high pitched broken noise much like a kicked dog, a he shivered limbs shaking as he found himself leaning into Chrisâs touch. Grounding. It felt nice really nice.
âThink your done,â Chris asked after a moment even though Leonâs condition seemed about the same.
The other, as if to answer him, gives a rumbling thick belch that seems to come up from the bit of his stomach.
The sound reeking of sheer nausea and stomach acid before throwing up one final wave that splattered onto the floor.
Itâs thick, much like paste or batter that hadnât been mixed properly, a clear sign of the tainted food thatâd refused to digest and settle in his gut.Â
Leon groaned loudly and Chris catches him when the otherâs shaking limbs just about collapse under him.
He lets Leon lean back against him panting, glassy blue eyes filled with unshed tears as his body trembled from exertion.
âStomach hates meâŚâ Leon mumbled as he simply laid there trying to get his bearings.
Chris gives an amused snort as he holds him his thumb carefully rubbingÂ
gentle soothing circles into the side of Leonâs neck, fingers passing over his pulse occasionally.Â
It was too fast which made sense considering things didnât make the worry Chris felt for the other any less prominent though.
âYou need some electrolytes, think you can move? Or y'know want me to go get them?â Chris asked after a few moments of Leon simply laying in his arms, eyes closed.
Leon cracked his eyes open a bit his hand pausing in the middle of rubbing his own stomach as the color drained from his face at the thought of sticking anything in it right now. Heâs quick to cover his mouth with his other hand shaking his head after a soft choked gag managed to leave his lips.
âNot yet,â he mumbled, eventually closing his eyes again but opened them glancing up questioningly when he felt Chrisâs hand on his forehead.
âYou feel warm,â Chris sighed to which Leon rolled his eyes at his bodyâs attempts to kill him.
âJustâŚstay here for a bit. Donât wanna move yet,â Leon murmured softly, feeling the adrenaline rush seeping away from his body leaving only the cold and exhaustion.
A feeling Leon was admittedly used to considering his work but it was no less harsh on him especially as he aged.
âAnd to think when I asked if you wanted me to stay the night you spoke like a husky,â Chris couldnât help but tease Leon a bit for being dramatic earlier that night when heâd come over to continue their outing when they left the bar.
Leon opened one eye a bit as he looked at Chris, âKeeping the carpet clean is a nightmare.âÂ
To which Chris laughed a bit before falling silent knowing Leon needed a bit of rest before wanting to be moved right now.
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fulfilled my dream of eating an entire pizza by myself (and a slice extra).
it sat so nicely on my belly, didn't weigh at all until i drank water. not all the coke i drank with it, just two glasses of water and boom, expanded, belly tight, hurting. nauseous even. i walked home giving these long loud burps, thinking i was gonna puke when i got home, but nope, burping made it all better.
i saw your post about jax so i figured i'd ask, how are you feeling about the upcoming episode of tadc?
um, neutral i think? i'm not too invested, i just think it's a neat little show. though, i'm expecting it to be good! i've been surprised positively in the past.
also, c.aine, i like him, hoping good things for him (whether or not that's bad for everyone around idc)
(when i say neutral doesn't mean i don't like it, it just didn't grip like my fixations do so i'm not all that, you know? i guess rabid is the word.)
edit: i'll be a whole lot busier for now on (might explain later), so won't have much time for tumblr. i'll be back when i get a breather! i still crave drawing so hopefully that won't take long. thank you for all the kind messages đ you guys are the best!
I ship Waterboy/Herman with both Robert or Chad, but just as much as a ship I love him just being a little brother in the group who gets looked after by any or all of them, that's so so cute.
i've a lot of fan art for them as trouple (is that the word) and it's so cute. i'm not the biggest fan of bully-type characters tho (unless i'm like on a self hating funk), but f.lambar is interesting!
i love that interpretation of w.aterboy. i think he'd just be happy to have friends and people to talk to, that aren't grossed out by his powers. i can't imagine him not having at least a bit of crush on any of the other characters tho đł
hi i just wanted to say your waterboy arts are wonderful, hes so cute and precious, you really do him justice oh goodness. the way he feels the need to apologize for being sick in that one breaks my heart augh, i hope he is loved qnd cared for so much. hes so cute in all of them thank you for cooking so hard
thank you đ he's so fun to draw i truly love his design (his big fucking nose is the highlight)
and yeah i can imagine he spends a lot of time having to apologize for things that are outside of his control, being wet, being anxious, so it becomes routine for him. i think that's a habit that would be hard to break too.
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Do you think youâll write anything about Thoma from Genshin being sick? Especially with the hot pot game and Ayato making him eat stuff (maybe heâd care for him too/enjoy watching him get sick)
um, not in my future plans, no. i had some ideas i never got to write, but i find it hard to get back into genshin now, both interest and game-wise. there's just too much i missed.
if you haven't read these fics already, i can recommend anything by the lovely @pokemonispain, butterballporkbun on ao3. there is Komore Teahouse teasing, which is exactly what you described here, and A request, pairing with ayaka. this fic is a personal favorite of mine.
i can also recommend both Hotpot Disaster and Favor by the lovely @imill, Jyoshamatsu on ao3, he's paired with ayaka on both.
(if you're up for imagining him with Prism, pls do, thats what I did. but otherwise if ur like really opposed to them as a ship just forget it. I dont mind.)
I'm thinking of Waterboy getting easily bloated, like in your one post. To the point where even his usually-flat tummy is noticeably bloated and pressing against his clothes. Imagine if his partner notices this, they notice him swaying and cramping, and they overhear the rumbly closed-mouth burps he keeps letting slip out. When/if they break the barrier of physical contact, maybe they realize just how full and stiff his poor belly is, maybe his clothes accentuate that difference.
And he's all embarrassed and self conscious, trying to convince them that he's fine while constantly bringing up involuntarily, wet, strained burps between his words....
aah i love this đ i imagine his burps are wet, and nausea shows super easily on him. like he gets a face of someone who's dying. i love prism and her ship with him. Robert's still first place in my heart tho. (i think they're ship name is s.parklingw.ater? i read such a cute fic where he gets carsick/sick from anxiety attacks while on a road trip. loved it).
I can imagine she would be super touchy with him, playing with his limp noodle hair or the zipper of his wet suit, then just petting his belly out of nowhere, commenting on the loudness of his burps (he would be secretly super into it, just so shy and terrified). i can also imagine being around her would make him so much nervous he would instantly get a tummy ache.
ngl i might use this as inspiration for fic request (with robert) i'm trying to write but i definitely should do something with prism đł