#tw: vomiting

[withacapitalp]

@lazylittledragon did more Mombin (check it out here it's great) which I think means I might be contractually obliged to write more fic that is inspired by it. Like wowza I am obsessed with this concept

Tw: vomiting/morning sickness, reddit, discussions of cancer

Robin was dying. 

That was the only explanation. 

Dying. 

And the worst part was, she was dying of something that was both incredibly funny, and incredibly sad, and she had been so desperate for answers that she had gone to a place no mortal should ever dare to go to. 

Reddit. 

Posted by u/familyvideobrokeme

I (24F) think that I might have breast cancer, and I have no idea how to tell my (25M) best friend.

So my best friend “Sam” and I have been attached at the hip for as long as I can remember. He’s not just a friend to me, he’s my person (and before you get any ideas- I’m a lesbian, so no, not happening.) we tell each other everything, even the super gross stuff neither of us wants to hear- like seriously he’s asked me to check his ass to see if he managed to pop the pimple he found there before- so I’ve never been in this position before…

But I think I’m dying of breast cancer, and I have no clue how to start this conversation. 

It just came on really suddenly??? Like last month I was fine, and this month my boobs just hurt in this really weird way I’ve never experienced before? Like I’m sore and tingly and my bras don’t fit?! Boobs are kind of a joke between us though, so I feel like if I just blurt it out then he will start saying ‘boobie cancer’ over and over at me and we will just end up laughing and he’ll think I’m kidding. 

Sam is also my roommate? I don’t know if that matters here? I also haven’t gone to a doctor yet, but there isn’t anything else this can be, right? Nothing else just magically makes your boobs hurt and get big?

Robin had made the post at three am the night before while crying and eating Ben and Jerry’s, and she had forced herself to not look at replies all night, even going as far as to shut her phone off entirely.

But now it was the next day, and she had steadfastly ignored the notifications from Reddit all the way through Saturday Brunch and Bitch. 

She couldn’t ignore them anymore. 

“You’re good if I work a little?” Robin asked, pulling her laptop close to her and carefully angling it so Steve couldn’t see the screen. 

“As you wish,” Steve muttered, completely absorbed with whatever dog video he was watching. 

“Dingus,” She whispered affectionately, an odd mixture of love and guilt crashing in her chest as she opened the website and logged into her account. She had over a thousand notifications now, and the comments were still rolling in as she opened her post and scrolled down. 

Endofthebeginningoftheend

OP are you sure you’re not in love with Sam

Grapenuts Dude she said she’s a lesbian

View 564 more replies

Robin rolled her eyes. She had expected that, but she didn’t expect it to be the top comment. She quickly scrolled past. 

Cheercaptainfromhell

OP I would definitely go to a doctor before anything else! 

SmeddieSmunson Seriously how has she gotten this far without going to a doctor??

The answer was easy. Robin was terrified of doctors. Why go to a doctor when Steve had EMT training? 

Because in this instance she couldn’t ask Steve for help. 

Robin kept scrolling. 

Frenchiefreis

You might be pregnant honestly…I would take a test first

Headphilosopher She’s a lesbian so I doubt it, but pregnancy can also cause those symptoms-

Robin snorted to herself, side eyeing Steve to make sure he didn’t look up when she did. 

Did everyone just ignore the part where she said she was a lesbian? 

…was Robin ignoring the part where being a lesbian didn’t mean fuck all when it came to her chances of getting pregnant?

Yes she was ignoring it because it was once just once and they had barely even gotten to do anything at all and-

Robin scrolled again, growing more and more desperate

Rummingbird

That doesn’t really sound like breast cancer to me My mom had similar things happen when she was pregnant though-

Another scroll. Another flutter of her heart. 

No. It wasn’t that. She was dying. Dying was bad but the idea that she was…that she could be…

HyllyBRd

OP have you considered that you might be pregnant? I know that you’re a lesbian, but if you’ve had penetrative sex in the last month then you might want to consider-

“Are you going to be good for me?” 

Robin gasped as the memory hit her, closing the reddit tab with a slam of her finger on the mouse pad, her entire body starting to softly shake as she panic opened a google tab.

Boobs hurt????

Not exactly the most scientific way of phrasing that question, but Robin needed an answer that didn’t involve nine long months of what the fuck. Luckily there was a read more question that got right to the heart of the issue. 

What kind of breast pain indicates pregnancy? 

It was going to say something completely different to what she had, and Robin was going to laugh, and then she would turn to Steve and let him know she was dying of boobie cancer. 

It wasn’t going to be the same. 

It wasn’t. 

Robin looked at the screen. 

Fuller. Sorer. Tingly pain that felt unlike anything else. Aka exactly what she had. 

Robin’s fingers moved on autopilot, asking another question of Google

How late should my period be before I worry?

Worrying about what? She knew about what, but she couldn’t bring herself to type it, she couldn't even think of that word yet.

Google said after a week of missing your period it was time to see a doctor. Robin’s period was over three weeks late. 

And a month ago-

A month ago…

“Fuck you’re so tight,” The woman above her whispered. Robin whimpered, unable to help herself as the stretch-

“I need to use the bathroom.” She blurted out, slamming her laptop shut and practically throwing it off of her, stomach twisting into knots. 

“I’ll tell you what I tell my students Bobbin,” Steve said, barely looking up and completely unaware of her meltdown, “You don’t need to ask me for permission to go take care of your bodily functions,”

“Oh, shut up,” Robin replied, laughing breathlessly. It was such a stupid joke, such a meaningless stupid joke. But it was safe, and it was familiar, and if the sneaking suspicion creeping down Robin’s spine was true, then nothing would be safe and familiar again for a very long time. 

She stood up, stopping to press a kiss to the top of Steve’s head as she walked by, just because that was familiar too and she needed it. Steve hummed, leaning over to bonk his head against her tummy as she passed him.

A bonk on the tummy that may or may not be-

Nope. It was a no. It was definitely a no. There was no possible way. 

Robin was going to be sick. 

She basically flew the last few steps to the bathroom, managing to lock it tight before she threw up in the sink. It was disgusting, and messy, and she pushed the tap on before kneeling down at the porcelain throne and continuing to hurl. 

I need Steve.

It wasn’t even really a thought. She couldn’t think while throwing her guts up, that was an experience that required every bit of her attention and mind power. 

No, not a thought, just an instinctual message from the universe, a pull from somewhere deep inside her that felt like more than just a truth. 

Because Robin didn’t need Steve because she was throwing up. Or because she thought she might have boob cancer. 

Robin needed Steve because she knew she was pregnant. 

“Fuck me,” She groaned, leaning back from the toilet only to lean forward once more as the rest of brunch came back up. 

#steve harrington #stranger things #st #st drabble #robin buckley #mombin #platonic stobin #Steve and robin #robin and steve #tw: vomit #tw: vomiting #tw: mentions of cancer

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1137

I don’t think people quite understand how miserable misophonia is.

It’s the nausea that comes with sounds that you know people can’t help but make. It’s the coughing that puts your teeth on edge, the crinkling of paper that makes you furious. It’s the too-loud TV that makes you want to scream and the voices with hissing ‘s’ sounds that make you want to vomit. It’s the chewing and heavy breathing and scratching of cutlery that destroys your appetite. It’s the constantly creaking floorboards that awaken a panicked rage in you when you’re just trying to breathe.

It’s the overstimulation when your headphones are too loud but not loud enough as the usually predictable songs grate against your brain.

It’s the inability to get comfortable in your usual safe space.

It’s the tears of frustration and headaches that form because no one gets it. You can’t talk about it because it’s unreasonable. You can’t ask someone to stop because they get defensive/see no issue.

It’s miserable.

Maybe this is something your whumpee experiences from so much time spent alone/in isolation. Maybe they inadvertently isolate themselves further, as they can’t stand to be around the people they love through no fault of their own (taking their meals to their room etc).

#misophonia #whump #writing prompts #writing #prompts #angst #psychological Whump #breakdowns #tw: emetophobia #tw: vomiting #projecting once again #neurodivergence

[juliaandthephantoms]

Tatort Saarbrücken und doesthedogdie.com Teil 4

Bonus:

Mir ist beim Wäsche aufhängen eingefallen, dass ich da ja mal so was gemacht hab. Hier also ergänzt um fdg.

Teil 1 | Teil 2 | Teil 3 | Teil 5

#tatort saarbrücken #spatort #julia rambles #natürlich gibts da noch viel mehr aber die schlkmmen themen wollt ich dann auch nicht zeigen #teil 5 folgt #tw: vomiting

[sortofanobsession]

could you maybe write a fic where Jamie gets sick at an away game— whether it be anxiety, food poisoning, flu, etc. Maybe he sicks up in the middle of the night and Dani or Sam (I imagine they room together and are best friends) go get Roy and he’s very very sweet in his own Roy way to Jamie and then the next day on the bus Jamie still doesn’t feel good so he snuggles into Roy in the back of the bus?

I literally love your work so much and would absolutely die if you wrote this (plus my birthday is coming up (Jan 25th) so this would be so epic to read then))

Happy Early Birthday, Anon!

Here is worried Roy Kent, sick and confused Jamie, amused Keeley, #1 nurse Phoebe, and well, everyone else. Hope you like it.

A/N: I'm not a medical expert. I have asthma so I know a few things about raspatory issues. But this might not be the most accurate. And it's unbeta read, as usual.

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Ao3

Pairing: RoyJamie

word count: 4k+

Content warning: Illness, pneumonia, fever, coughing, vomiting (from coughing), panic, angst, sleep depravation, fear, swearing/cursing/cussing.

Fever in the Night

Roy Kent growls at the knock that would have woken him up if he had been asleep. He’d been reading and didn’t appreciate being interrupted. 

“Better be fucking dying,” He grumbles as he opens the door. “What?” he snaps at Sam Obisanya. 

“Sorry, Coach,” Sam nervously says. “But it’s Jamie.” 

And that has Roy moving before his tired brain catches up. He almost forgets to grab his room key and phone, but he isn't a fucking idiot, so he grabs them. Sam relaxes a tiny bit that Roy didn't argue or even swear as much as Sam had expected for it being 1 a.m. Roy feels uneasy when he looks up to see Dani Rojas and Jeff Goodman in the hall, both in the open door of the room Sam and Jamie shared. The four players have adjoining rooms. 

“What about Jamie?” Roy finally asks as he follows Sam.

“He's very sick,” a worried Dani Rojas says. Jeff nods. 

“Okay,” Roy says. He was tempted to ask them why the fuck they woke him and not the team’s doctor, but it was about Jamie Tartt. He'd be pissed if they didn't. He cares about Jamie. And he shoves that thought aside because he really shouldn't think like that. And Roy forgets it completely when he gets one look at Jamie. Jamie’s pale. His stupid fucking hair is sweat drenched and sticking to his face. 

“You two, out,” he says to Dani and Jeff by the door. 

“But-” Dani starts, but Roy glares. Jeff was smart enough to be back in his own room already.

“You have a fucking match, with or without Tartt, so fucking sleep. He'll be fucking fine.” 

The coach weighs his options before handing Sam his own room key. “You fucking too.”

“But coach-”

“Not going to fucking repeat it,” he snaps. 

“What about you?”

“Don't fucking argue.”

“Sorry, coach,” Sam says, but he hasn't moved. The room key and his phone gripped right in his hands. 

“I’ll call the physio team, now fucking go.”

Sam nods and silently leaves. Roy sighs once the doors are closed. As tired as he is, his fucking heart is pounding. Something is wrong with Jamie Tartt. And that twists something inside the gaffer. And despite the protest in his knee, he is kneeling down beside Jamie to get a good look at him. He should call the physio team. He needs the team’s doctor. Roy might know more than your average bloke when it comes to health, thanks to his sister, but he's no bloody expert. But he needs a bit more information first. He reaches up and carefully moves the hair out of Jamie's face. 

“Fucking hell,” he says when just his fingertips can feel the heat of a fever. Just to be sure, he places his palm on Jamie's forehead. And he squashes down whatever feeling is stirred up by how the sick striker shivers at the contact but still leans into it. 

“Fucking burning up,” Roy mutters to himself. 

He winces at the pain in his knee as he stands up. He tucks Jamie's blankets tighter around him. The gaffer is scrolling through his contacts to find the one he needs. He flips the light on in the ensuite and talks to the team's doctor as he grabs a flannel and wets it. As he hangs up the phone, he sets the damp cloth on Jamie's forehead. That's when the player’s eyes snap open. Confusion, followed by panic, flashed across the striker’s face. Because in Jamie's mind, if Roy Kent is there, then Jamie is running late for something, and Roy is probably pissed at him. Jamie hates when Roy is pissed at him. Jamie doesn't like disappointing Roy. 

“Easy, Tartt,” Roy says. “Fucking stay put.” Roy puts the fallen flannel back in place. “Try and relax.”

And as anxious as Jamie is, a command from Roy Kent is one that Jamie will follow. 

“Roy?” Jamie manages to ask. And the coach hates how tired, weak, and utterly confused Jamie seems. 

Before Roy can say anything else, a knock at the door makes Jamie flinch. Without thinking, Roy smoothes the younger man’s hair back in an attempt to calm him as he gets up. Roy’s always been better at physical gestures than words. And if that's what was needed to keep Tartt from panicking or hurting himself, well, then that was a no fucking brainer. He was going to fucking do it.

He lets the doctor into the room and silently hovers as the doctor deals with the striker. 

“Any other player showing symptoms?” the doctor asks the gaffer.

“Fuck if I know, Obisanya, Rojas, and Goodman just seemed fucking worried. Are we going to have a fucking team tomorrow?” 

“Guess we will see in the morning,” the doctor says. Roy gets a rundown on what needs to be done for Jamie. The coach leans his head against the cool wood of the door when he closes it behind the doctor. 

“Where's Sam?” Jamie asks, finally realizing that his roommate’s gone. And that concerns Roy a bit. Jamie is one of his most observant players. On and off the pitch, he tends to keep track of who is around him and where his mates are. He likes knowing where the people he cares about are. He was just noticing Sam’s absence now, which wasn’t a good sign. 

“Sent him off to get some fucking sleep,” Roy says. Several things had been dropped off at the room by either the physio team or hotel staff. Roy had been focused on the doctor and Jamie when it had happened. The gaffer hands the player a bottle of water. Jamie takes it without argument.

“Where?” Jamie glanced at Sam's empty bed. Roy rolls his eyes. 

“My room,” Roy answers, and that seems to surprise Jamie. Before the player can comment on the decision, Roy adds, “Not like I'm fucking using it.” And Roy regrets saying it at the way Jamie gets a sad look on his face. “It's fucking fine, Tartt. My fucking choice.” 

“But-”

“But someone needs to make sure you fucking rest.”

And Jamie hates that because he doesn't want to be a burden to anyone. 

“You don't need to-”

“Already fucking decided,” Roy states. “Just try and fucking sleep.” 

Roy is woken up by violent coughing, and he is out of bed without thinking. Helping raise Phoebe had him trained to be a light sleeper at times like these. Roy follows the sound to the loo. He knocks on the closed door. He didn't know if Jamie had coughed so hard he made himself vomit or vice versa. But from what he could hear, it was painfully obvious one of the two had occurred. The gaffer is glad to find the door unlocked and lets himself in. Jamie tries to argue and kick him out, but he is tired and shaking and can barely move. And that has something in Roy breaking. 

“Not fucking going anywhere, Tartt,” Roy says. As he grabs some water and sits beside Jamie. Jamie accepts the glass if only to rinse his mouth out. Roy can hear the way Jamie's lungs struggle, and that has Roy struggling not to panic. But he manages. He gets Jamie calmed down, cleaned up, and back in bed. Roy ends up texting his sister, who calls him. She asks him if Jamie has been sick recently, but then he remembers what Jamie had told him during training. He'd nearly choked to death at Ola’s over a joke one of the other idiots had told him. And fuck, Jamie couldn't catch a break. His sister tells him it sounds like aspiration pneumonia to her. He should have the doctor double-check, but hopefully, Jamie being a fit footballer will mean he can fight it off without too much trouble. He would need to keep a close eye on him. Hopefully, he wouldn't need to be admitted to hospital. And that had Roy’s blood running cold. A cold and a fucking joke. He sent a message to the physio team and went back to Jamie. 

The only good thing was that pneumonia wasn't inherently contagious. The cold Jamie had before it might be, but it was unlikely to take Sam, Dani, or Jeff out of the game. Jamie wouldn't be leaving the hotel the next morning. Roy really dreaded the idea, but he was already hitting the number on his phone. Keeley would have a lot to say about this at some point. She’d probably see right through him and know he cares more than he should for just being Jamie’s coach. But he needed help, and he knew Jamie trusted Keeley as much as Roy did. 

“Better be good, Roy,” Keeley says. She was clearly annoyed and not a fan of being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. 

“Fucking opposite, it's very fucking bad,” he says, and he sounds it. And she knows if Roy is that upset, it means one of three people was in a bad state. It must be Roy's sister, his niece, or Jamie Tartt. Roy and Jamie might both be her exes, but she knew them well enough to know that they were both idiots in love, just neither of them would admit it. And since it's an away match, it probably meant Jamie was the one having issues. 

“What's wrong? What happened?” She says, all annoyance gone and completely awake. “Is Jamie all right?”

Roy tells her what has happened since Sam knocked on his door. She tells him to keep doing what he's doing. She’ll stay with Jamie during the match. 

“Just let me text Rebecca, and I’ll be there,” Keeley tells him. Roy Kent doesn't argue. 

Roy is an anxious fucking mess throughout the whole match. He does his job. The team does theirs, but everyone feels like there is a gaping hole in the lineup. Even if they physically have a full team, thanks to Roberts. But Isaac had told them to win it for Jamie, and the fucking lads did. That would at least make Jamie feel better about having missed it. Colin Hughes and Dani Rojas had Sky Sports doing replays of goals. And post-game interviews had been more about Tartt than one would think for a game he wasn't in. Roy was just glad he’d had Jamie give Georgie a heads-up that he was sick before he left for the match. The striker listened to his mum as an amused Keeley kicked Roy out of the room. 

The team didn't even ask Roy if he was going out to celebrate the win. The gaffer hadn't even hung back for the bus. He didn't even change his clothes. He let Nathan Shelley to handle the press. He caught a ride back to the hotel, annoyed by the chatty driver, but he was cognizant enough to not verbally eviscerate the guy. He was just doing his job. Tipped the guy well. Not his fault Roy was a shit company. 

“You weren't joking,” Keeley grinned when she opened the door for Roy. Her voice was quiet.

“Said I'd be back after the match,” he stated as he tossed his jacket over a chair in the room. His tone matches hers. “How is he?” 

“Out cold. Whatever the new doctor gave him must be working.” 

Roy hummed. The hotel’s concierge had arranged for a local doctor to treat Jamie so the physio team could focus on the match. And Roy didn't even mind the outrageous fee that was going to cost them. He'd throw all the money he had at it, even though he knew Rebecca Welton would cover it in a heartbeat. She cared deeply for her team these days. And Roy could respect that. He did respect that about his boss. He glanced at the muted TV as Sky Sports blathered on about the game. Roy was glad it was silent. He could ignore the bullshit commentary on his coaching. They won. That's all that fucking mattered. 

“You need to leave?” Roy asked at the way Keeley's phone kept going off. 

“Maybe to take a few calls. Seems the internet is not satisfied with the team's explanation of Jamie's absence.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Roy says as he moves to check on Jamie himself.

“You would say that,” Keeley grins. “But it's my job to answer it. I'm his publicist, after all.”

“Fair,” Roy states, but he doesn't look at her. His eyes are locked on Jamie. He doesn't see the knowing look on Keeley's face. 

“Team should be here soon,” she tells him as she grabs her bag. “Text me if you need me.”

Roy grunts and nods. He finally looks up at her.

“Doctor said he’ll be back up in a few days,” she assures him. “Bus ride might suck, but we'll manage.”

After she leaves, Roy turns off the TV. He was glad he and Sam had switched rooms. He silently changes into more comfortable clothes and pulls a chair up next to the bed. He picks up the book he had been reading. He didn't get very far in his book. He was too distracted by the wheezing sound coming from Jamie. He knew the team was back as the noise level in the hall increased. He was about to go out and tell them all to shut the fuck up when someone beat him to it. There was a quiet knock on the door. 

He opens it to find Nathan Shelley.

“How is he?” the assistant coach asks.

“Sleeping, but it's not fucking great,” he tells him.

“Think he’ll be able to travel?” Nate asks.

“Can't fucking leave him here,” Roy says. 

“That's true, but it won't make him worse, will it?” 

“Not much to fucking do about it.”

Roy had bought Keeley a ticket back so she could meet them when they got back. She complained, but he was ordering her around, but she didn't really mean it. They were both worried about Jamie. And if she could help ease his pain after a long trip, then she would. 

Roy had triple-checked that he had everything packed up for both himself and Jamie. Dani and Jeff had taken their stuff down so Roy could focus on getting Jamie up and moving. No one says anything, but they watch curiously as Roy leads a pale Jamie to the far back of the bus. The players exchanged worried looks. It was going to be a long, tense ride back to Richmond. 

The bus was quiet, as it usually is during these late-night trips, but this was an uneasy silence. The entire bus would go painfully tense every time Jamie coughed. 

They were on the road for half an hour when Roy noticed Jamie was shaking. Roy couldn't imagine how shitty the striker must feel. Fever-induced chill on a fucking crowded bus. 

Jamie's eyes snap to his when Roy feels the ill man’s forehead for what feels like the millionth time. 

“You okay?” Roy asks quietly.

“Cold,” Jamie says. And Roy had already figured that out by the way Jamie not only avoided the cold glass of the window but also the way Jamie sort of chased the warmth of Roy's hand as he pulled away. How Jamie could be burning up but shivering cold had Roy thinking this was a terrible idea. He should have made better arrangements for Jamie. He should have extended their stay at the hotel, no matter the price, and sent the team back without them. Sure, there would be a lot of questions he didn't even want to answer to himself, let alone out loud, but he regrets not doing it. For Jamie's health and safety. Jamie was already wrapped in his usual blanket, a new one Keeley had given him, and Jamie's jacket. But it didn't seem to be enough. 

Roy hummed. 

Jamie's tired eyes watched as Roy dug through the bag he had with him. First, he makes Jamie take more meds. Jamie is vaguely aware of the quiet buzzing alarm on Roy’s phone. As he takes the meds, he sees Roy pull out a jumper from his bag. Roy kept it with him on trips like these in case a hotel or bus had a busted heater, and he needed extra layers. Jamie considers arguing, but he is just too exhausted to actually do it when Roy helps him out of his jacket and into the jumper. Instead of Jamie’s jacket, Roy's much thicker leather jacket, still warm from Roy wearing it, is wrapped around the striker. Jamie almost cries because it's warm and it smells like Roy, and it's overwhelmingly comforting to his fever-muddled mind. Roy must notice the glassy look in Jamie's already bloodshot eyes because without hesitation or protest, even at the odd looks from a few people around them, Roy shifts them both. Roy moves so he can lean against the window with Jamie's back to his chest. One foot on the floor to brace them both. And Jamie manages to get a bit more air than he had bundled up in the window seat. Roy was fucking warm, and Jamie just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep in his lap, but his lungs hurt, and he could barely breathe as is. Thankfully, the bench at the back of the bus they were on was a bit longer than the normal seats, and Roy could stretch his knee out. They still had nearly 5 hours on the bus. Jamie’s eyelids felt heavy when Roy pulled the blankets back around him. The violent chills finally eased a bit. Jamie didn't know if it was from the meds or how blissfully warm Roy fucking Kent was, but he felt just a tiny bit more human.

“Quit fighting it and fucking sleep, Tartt,” Roy said. Jamie chuckles, but it turns into a wheezing cough that earns concerned luck from the teammates who are sitting nearby. The striker doesn't see the way Roy silently waves them off, too distracted by the way Roy’s arm holds him tight, a hand on his chest to keep him from falling to the floor. Roy's other hand starts rubbing Jamie's back until he can pull an exhausted Jamie back against his chest.

“Just try and breathe, Jamie,” Roy's voice is in his ear, sending a shiver down Jamie’s spine. “Let the medicine work. Nothing else matters. Just fucking breathe.”

Jamie whines slightly because all he wants to do is tuck his face in Roy's next and probably cry.

Roy Kent’s heart fucking shattered at the weak noise that Jamie makes, and he can't take it. He wraps his arms as tight around Jamie as he dares with how much the striker is already struggling to breathe. And he plants a kiss on Jamie's temple.

“It's okay, Jamie,” the older man assures. “I've got you.” And that seems to do the trick because Jamie’s hands wrap around Roy's wrist. So the coach adds, “I'm not going anywhere.” And Roy starts quietly telling Jamie about his first time in Newcastle as a kid when he’d been training in Sunderland. His hushed words continue until Jamie is fast asleep against him. 

About halfway through the trip, Coach Beard comes to check on them. He isn't surprised that Jamie is passed out. Nor is he shocked to find Roy Kent wide awake. The gaffer might be exhausted, and on night two, he has no sleep, but he is wide awake. Beard hands him a water bottle. One Roy accepts because he was sort of trapped where he is. 

“You good?” Beard asks. Roy nods because as painfully asleep his leg might be, and as achy his bad knee is, he'd endure it if it meant Jamie slept. Jamie had spent much of the first hour of the trip trying to get comfortable. The fact he had slept long enough for Roy to get sore was good. 

“Fucking fine,” Roy grumbles. 

“You sure?” Nate asks when he appears over Beard’s shoulder. “We could help you-” 

He is cut off by a low growl from Roy. “You fucking wake him, and you’ll be picking your teeth up out the aisle.” 

“Right, yeah, got it,” Nate says before disappearing, presumably back to his seat. Beard just nods and hands him the book Roy had set aside. 

Roy can feel the rattle in Jamie's lungs worsening as the meds wear off, and Jamie starts to wake up. Thankfully, they were only about 45 minutes out from the dog track now. 

Roy gently shushes him as a bump in the road jostles everyone on board, earning a pained whine from the ill man. “It's okay, Jamie,” Roy tells him. “Nearly there, then we can go home and get you in bed.” 

And it's like a knife in Roy's heart that Jamie is too tired and sick to make a snippy comeback or stupid innuendo. Like all the humor and joy was being drained from the player. And Roy hated it. As much as he acted annoyed or put out by Jamie, he fucking adored him. Wouldn't change the man Jamie had grown into for the fucking world.

On the contrary, he'd fucking fight anyone that doubted Jamie. Because Roy Kent was fucking gone on Jamie Tartt. The arrogant prick stole his heart at some point, and Roy hadn't even fucking noticed. His sister and Keeley were never going to let him live this down. And he'd endure it as long as Jamie was okay.

Jamie worried as he watched how Roy had to grip the seats as they exited the bus. Roy is slower than usual. Jamie might be sick, but he knew Roy. He could identify Roy while blindfolded by footsteps alone. The slight limp and the way Roy leans heavily on the railing with each step down makes Jamie’s brows furrow.

“Fucking stop it,” Roy says when his eyes meet Jamie's. 

“Your knee-” 

“Is fucking fantastic. You going to just fucking stand there or what?” 

Keeley's laugh has Jamie looking behind him.

“You two are a sight,” she grins. 

“Did you-”

“Course I did, Roy-o,” she smiles. “Let's get you home, babe,” she says to Jamie, and he is too tired and confused to argue. He nearly panics when he notices Will helping Roy along, but Keeley's warm hand pats Jamie’s chest. “He's okay, just a long ride,” Keeley tells him. “Telling either of you not to worry is a waste, but I can tell you, he doesn't regret it. Now, in you go.” She helps him into Roy’s G-Wagon with little argument. He is surprised when Roy gets in the back beside him, and Keeley gets behind the wheel. Roy doesn't often let others drive his car. But then again, this is Keeley.

“Jamie?” The striker's eyes snap up and he meets Keeley’s in the rearview mirror before Keeley looks away to meet Roy’s. 

“Hmm?”

“She asked if you were fucking hungry,” Roy tells him, and the worried look on Roy's face has a familiar feeling in Jamie's gut returning. 

“I'm knackered more than anything,” Jamie says.

“I get that,” Keeley says. “Be home soon.”

Jamie must fall asleep because the next thing he knows, he's waking up in his own bed, unsure how he got there. He tries to put the pieces together, but he comes up short. 

“Good, you're awake.”

“Phoebe?” Jamie asks because Roy Kent’s niece is in the doorway to his bedroom.

“Hang on, I have to tell my mum.”

“Your mum?” Jamie mutters, but she is gone. So Phoebe and her mum were there. Jamie’s tired brain tries to remember what happened to cause this to happen. 

“Well, your colour's better,” Roy's sister says as she walks in. 

“You're in my house?” 

She nearly laughs at his confused look. Phoebe giggles.

“Well, yeah,” Phoebe says like it's the most obvious fact in the universe. “Uncle Roy let us in.”

“Uncle Roy,” Jamie mutters.

“My brother begrudgingly went to training,” the doctor tells him. She uses a stethoscope to check his breathing. Jamie coughs as she does. “Rough,” she tells him. “But better than it was.”

“Uncle Roy said it was something like popcorn popping while rattling a jar of change, and when you pinch a balloon as it deflated.”

Jamie’s laughs turn into a wheezing coughing fit at the odd description. He startles slightly as a funny mask meets his face, but he looks over at the doctor as she turns on a machine. 

“Yeah, she asked him, and that's how he explained it,” the amused mother said as she looked at her daughter. “Nebulizer,” she taps the machine. “Help get those lungs to open up faster. Make it easier to breathe.” She goes on to tell him how it works. 

“So,” Jamie says despite the mask muffling his speech. “You…have…Babysitting…duty?” 

He doesn't miss the worried look on Phoebe's face as he has to break between each word, but her mum just squeezes her knee, where she sits on the side of Jamie's bed. Phoebe's hands were too busy holding Jamie's hand. And that makes Jamie smile behind the mask. He was always happy to see Phoebe. Sure, this was a weird visit, but he was glad she was there. Being sick was awful. But it was easier when you had people that cared around you. 

“My brother insisted Phoe was the best nurse for the job.” And the smile the girl gave them did wonders to heal Jamie's heart. She was a ball of sunshine. Jamie was still trying to figure out how they got there when he remembered that Keeley had driven Jamie and Roy to Jamie's flat. Roy must have stayed. 

“His knee?” Jamie asks, sure that Roy's sister would know.

“Fine, after he iced it,” she tells him. “Or as fine as it ever is.” She shrugs. “Although if he doesn't start wearing the brace again on bad days, I'm going to kick him in it.”

“That's not very nice, mum,” Phoebe says.

“Neither is your uncle when his knee hurts, so seems fair,” her mum grins. Jamie chuckles. “Medication must be working. We got a laugh that didn't turn into a cough.”

“Yay!” Phoebe cheered, and Jamie smiled. The pair stayed, and Phoebe told him all about the match he had missed. As much as it hurt him to know he had let his team down, the colourful commentary from an 8-year-old made it easier to stomach. 

Roy had let himself in with Jamie’s keys and followed his niece’s laugh to find them all in Jamie's room. His sister turned off the nebulizer. And the icy grip around the gaffer's heart eases slightly at the smile on Jamie's face as the mask was set aside. 

“Uncle Roy's here!” Phoebe announced. 

“How's the best medical team doing?” Roy asks. 

“Great!” Phoebe grins. 

“And the patient?” Roy adds. And Jamie is stunned at the strange dichotomy on the gaffer's face. He looks exhausted. He has bags under his eyes. At the same time, there is a spark in his eyes. A smile on his face as he leans against the door frame. And Jamie feels butterflies when Roy looks at him. It's not the first time he's felt it. He's always craved Roy's attention. Even when they were both playing for Richmond, Jamie would go out of his way to antagonize his captain. Getting to see Roy content with his family was something Jamie always considered special.

“Much better,” Phoebe answers. “He managed to laugh without coughing.” 

“Oh really?” Roy asks with amusement. 

“He had the nebulizer on at the time, but it means we're on the right track,” Roy's sister tells him. “That and his fever finally broke.”

Jamie hadn't even realized that he didn't feel feverish anymore. 

“That's great,” Roy says. The gaffer feels himself relaxed. Jamie was getting better. 

Roy watches as his sister gets up from the chair beside Jamie's bed. She reaches a hand out to Phoebe. “Come on, Phoe, soup-making time,” she says. Phoebe gives both Jamie and Roy a hug as she leaves. Roy can't help but grin at the dopey smile on Jamie's face. 

“Wait, soup making? Do I even have the stuff for that?” Jamie asks, and Roy gets a bit uneasy again. 

“You do now,” Roy says as he moves to take the seat his sister had been in. 

“Since when?” 

And Roy gives him an odd look. 

“Since yesterday.”

“Did Keeley get them before we got back?”

“No,” Roy answers. “Jamie, you've been in and out of it for a couple of days since we got back.”

“What?” And he remembers that Roy's sister had said Roy was at training. They usually had the day off after long travel away matches like that. 

“A couple days?”

“You okay?” Roy asks as Jamie coughs. 

Jamie winces. He felt terrible thinking about how many nights of sleep he had ruined for Roy. 

“You should go home,” Jamie says when he can finally speak again. 

“Already here,” Roy states.

“I know, but…” Jamie starts. “You need sleep.”

“And you need to recover, so here we fucking are,” Roy tells him. 

“I know, but-”

“I can fucking assure you that I will not sleep better in my own fucking bed. Probably worse because no one is here to look after your dumb arse.”

“But my fever broke, and I'm feeling-”

“You just had a coughing fit,” Roy says with a glare.

“But I didn't throw up or pass out, so I’m-”

“Fucking hell,” Roy says, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Fuck it.” A stunned Jamie watches as Roy climbs into bed beside him. “Now will you shut the fuck up and sleep.”

Jamie woke up feeling warmer than he had in a long time. He felt better too. His lungs still felt like crappy, but he didn't care as much. 

#tw: illness #tw: pneumonia #tw: fever #tw: coughing #tw: vomiting #tw: panic #tw: fear #tw: sleep depravation #tw: swearing #tw: cussing #tw: cursing #royjamie #jamie x roy #roy x jamie #roy kent #jamie tartt #prompt fill #ted lasso fic #keeley jones

[schrijverr]

I Found Myself a Cheerleader 13

Chapter 13 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

In this chapter, Jason keeps asking Chrissy out, who tells him she’s dating Steve to get him to stop. It leads to him coming out to her. In the evening Eddie comes by. Steve falls asleep and has a nightmare. Eddie tries to comfort him, but the person he needs is Robin, to which Eddie drives them as he gets to witness their friendship.

On AO3.

Ships: steddie & buckingham

Warnings: period typical sexism, homophobia mention, nightmare, vomiting

~~~~~~~~

Chapter 13: The Rejected Date

It’s already the middle of October. School has been in for a while and Steve has been living on his own at the cabin for a few weeks already.

Living on his own has been both fun and hard. He misses Robin, but she stays over at least one night a week and he is at the Buckley’s for dinner and to sleep over once a week as well. They usually end up sleeping together three nights, one of them, because they woke up from a nightmare and had to check the other was okay.

When it’s Robin, Steve will get called awake and drive over to find Robin waiting on her porch in her pajamas, freezing. She’ll fall into his arms and he’ll carry her to her room, wrapping both of them into the blanket as she shoves her ice cube toes between his calves.

If it’s him, he’ll show up still sweaty and shivering from the nightmare. He knows where they keep the spare key and he’ll let himself in, crawling into Robin’s bed. She’s used to it and wraps her arms around him, sleepily lecturing him about safety on the road.

The set up isn’t perfect, but it works for them. He and Robin are bound for life, he cannot imagine not knowing her. If sneaking into her bed is to be part of his life, then he’ll do so with the gratefulness that he gets to know her.

Beyond his sleepovers with Robin, he calls Lisa from time to time and hangs out with Chrissy on Wednesdays. There isn’t cheer practice, but Chrissy told her mom there is. They hang out together, just talking or stunting, depending on the mood.

Steve loves spending time together with Chrissy. He might be half conjoined with Robin and she is his person, who gets him on so many levels, but he connects with Chrissy about bad parents and a love for sports in a way that Robin won’t get. And he doesn’t begrudge her that. Robin has amazing parents and he is thankful for that, besides he doesn’t get her obsession with weird books, movies and music either.

Chrissy loves the cabin and is always excited to hang around there. She loves the quiet sounds of nature and how there is no one to watch or judge her. Steve gets the feeling, though he isn’t the biggest forest fan after the Upside Down.

On Saturdays he hangs out with Max and Lucas. He brings dinner and plays basketball with Lucas at the trailer park, both ignoring how Susan is never home and how this is the most decent meal Max eats in the week.

Lucas is improving his skill and is going onto the varsity team, which is huge as a freshman. It makes Steve so proud of him, despite his own bad experiences with the basketball team during the last part of his time at high school.

When playing with Lucas, Steve also doesn’t think of Eddie, whose trailer is right across from Max’s, who has been sworn to secrecy and let in on the prank. He sees her eyes glittering whenever Lucas complains about giving the guy a chance as they eat dinner.

But it’s okay, he sees Eddie at other times.

He drives the kids home from Hellfire club on Fridays. Usually he and Eddie exchange a few words in the parking lot. When he recounts them to Robin she calls it flirting, but Steve tries not to believe her, tries not to get his hopes up.

Just like he tries not to get his hopes up whenever he and Eddie hang out. Steve doesn’t have the best sleep schedule and it seems that neither does Eddie, because he’ll often show up at an hour that is too late to be socially acceptable and stays until deep in the night.

Eddie makes it very hard to not get hopes up, or at least to get over the crush. He’ll always press close, easily stepping into Steve’s space and handing out casual touches like it’s nothing. He’ll grin showing those cute dimples and creating crinkles around those kind and beautiful eyes. It makes Steve want to do something stupid.

However, Steve knows better. He has seen enough of Eddie to know that the affection is just baked into his being. Steve isn’t special. Eddie is just nice and he shouldn’t look for things that aren’t there.

It’s not special when they sit on the porch and look at the stars, sharing things they wouldn’t say in the light of day. It’s not special when Eddie uses his joint to light Steve’s cigarette. It’s not special when Eddie rests his head on Steve’s shoulder. And it’s not special when the night drags on and a drawl creeps into Eddie’s voice, when man gets replaced with sweetheart and Eddie gazes at Steve like he’s something precious.

Steve just has to keep reminding himself of that.

Robin tells him he’s being an idiot, but Robin doesn’t get to say shit. It’s not like she’s telling that Vickie girl from band that she likes her. So, he ignores her arguments about why he should risk the friendship he’s only just starting to build and lingers in the moments where he has Eddie, before he reminds himself it isn’t special.

Yesterday was such an evening again, but Robin can’t say anything, because she is working and he is not. He’s going to hang out with Chrissy at the cabin and just try to forget and work it out by throwing Chrissy into the air for a bit.

He goes to pick her up after school. She looks a little nervous, glancing around as she quickly gets into his car. She looks like she wants to say something, but can’t. Her nerves are making Steve anxious as he wonders what could have happened. He asks: “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“I did something and I need you to go along with it and not be mad,” Chrissy tells him, worrying her lip between her teeth.

The words do nothing to soothe Steve’s nerves and if he weren’t focused on driving, he would have more space to panic. “What did you do?”

“I told Jason we’re dating when he asked me out,” Chrissy rushes out, then rambles on: “He just keeps asking and I said no multiple times, but he won’t stop. So, when he asked why I won’t give him a chance I said that I have a boyfriend. He didn’t believe that, so I just said your name, because I don’t really want to date right now, so I needed someone who wouldn’t be secretly in love with me.”

“Of course I’ll back your story,” Steve promises, not seeing an issue with it. Chrissy is too young for him, but it’s not real. She knows he won’t be in love-

Wait, Steve’s brain screeches to a halt as the latter part of Chrissy’s ramble registers. He stops at the intersection, looks at Chrissy and asks: “Who says I’m not secretly madly in love with you?”

Chrissy looks surprised at the question and taken aback she says: “You are?”

“I mean, no, but I could have been, right?” Steve says, finding an edge of desperation in his voice as the walls of the car start to close in on him. He does not like where this conversation is going. He does not know if he can do this.

Meanwhile, Chrissy’s face turns sympathetic and she starts: “Steve…” trailing off with nothing to say, which is horrible for Steve’s frame of mind.

“Right?” he repeats, knowing that the crack in his voice does nothing to help his case.

“Oh, Stevie, you don’t- you don’t have to pretend with me,” she tells him softly, compassion and gentleness filling her voice.

She knows he’s gay.

Steve got the inkling, but those words confirm it. She knows. She has known. She knows and still she hangs out with Steve, lets him be near her, touch her, be close with her. All his fears about her rejection due to her religious house were for naught, because she doesn’t seem to mind.

Chrissy doesn’t mind he’s gay.

He feels tears start to try and get out, so he pushes them down and takes a shuddering breath. He can’t deal with all these emotions right now. Instead he checks if anyone is coming at the intersection and starts driving again.

The tension in the car is palpable. Chrissy is fidgeting next to him and Steve is just staring at the road, trying not to feel. He doesn’t know what to say. What if he misunderstood and Chrissy is talking about something else? What if he says it and then she hates him?

So they drive in tense silence, something they haven’t done in all the time they’ve known each other. Not really, not like this.

It’s only when they pull up at the cabin that Chrissy speaks up, her voice very timid. “Are you okay?” she asks. “If I said something wrong you can say it. I’m really sorry, I didn’t know it was something I shouldn’t say.”

“How long have you known?” Steve asks, still not meeting her eyes. He has to know. He has only just gotten his respectability back. What if it’s obvious?

“Since the summer,” Chrissy answers.

“How?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure at first,” Chrissy begins to explain, sounding unsure. “I mean, you know what whispers went around about you, but I don’t like rumors. So, I ignored them. You seemed nice and we became friends. I liked that you treated us like people, not just dumb cheerleaders. Then I noticed you never talked about Nancy. Never. Barely mentioned her.”

“What does Nancy have to do with it?” Steve asks, confused as to why Chrissy is bringing her up.

“For someone not enough over the heartbreak to date again, you never talked about her,” Chrissy shrugs and smiles. “I thought that was odd. But that’s all maybe’s. Robin confirmed it for me.”

“Robin?” Steve frowns.

“Yeah, you were very adamant about nothing being there,” Chrissy says. “I almost convinced myself you had to be lying about it, but I know you too well. So, I assumed. I didn’t say anything because you didn’t. Sorry. Should I not have done that?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says, looking Chrissy in the eye. “I honestly don’t know, Chris. I’m terrified of people knowing. Robin knows, but beyond that…”

“That sucks,” Chrissy tells him in that sweet genuine way only she can. She bumps her shoulder against his and smiles: “I’ll never judge you, Stevie. You’re my best friend.”

Words escape Steve. He never thought he would have people who would accept him, but here he has not only Robin and Eddie, but Chrissy as well. His Chrissy. His favorite cheerleader. He pulls her into a hug and practically crushes her.

Chrissy doesn’t seem to mind, just clings to him equally tight and doesn’t let go. They sit there in the front seat of Steve’s car, until Steve is willing to let go.

“You’re my best friend too,” Steve tells her. “Thank you for not hating me.”

“Never,” Chrissy says and it sounds like a promise.

They finally get out of the car and Chrissy seems to know that he doesn’t want to get into it now, but just put it out of his mind. So, she drops her stuff off inside and immediately comes back out to warm up. The October chill is coming in, but neither of them care.

The two of the run around to warm up. Chrissy can now comfortably to a handstand on Steve’s hands, so they’re just working on flipping. It’s not the smartest thing to do without anyone to catch her, but they don’t care. Stunting makes them feel alive in a way nothing else does.

So they stunt until they’re both sweaty and both take a shower, their hair a mess as it air dries and grins on their faces.

Steve doesn’t have a TV, so they put on some music while they crawl onto the couch with a mug of hot chocolate. The heating in the cabin isn’t the best, but Steve has amassed a collection of blankets that they burrow under.

The cabin itself is very homey. Steve finally has a bed frame that he stumbled upon in the second hand shop, a lucky find. The living room is painted an orange-y red, giving it a warm feel. Though he painted the beams the same yellow as the cabinets, which he loves.

He made it his little home and he is happy there. On some lonely nights however, he stares at the closed door where the last memory of Hopper remains. He’ll think of El living here. Hopper and her fixing it up. The countless days she’d been cooped up here. He wonders if she’d like what he has done with it, but he’s too scared to ask whenever he calls all the way to California.

It’s there, sitting on the couch that Chrissy brings it up again. She doesn’t start a serious conversation about it, instead curiously asking: “So, do you have a crush on anyone? A real one. I told you mine, now you can tell me yours.”

“Who says I have a crush,” Steve counters.

“Pleaseeeee, even if it’s just a celebrity,” Chrissy pleads. “I wanna gossip with you.”

“You’re being nosy, that’s different,” Steve points out, but he’s smiling too big for his judgment to be believable. He can’t believe Chrissy is being so casual about it, so accepting.

“Then let me be nosy,” Chrissy pouts. “I told you my embarrassing crushes, it’s only fair. I even told you when I liked that guy in my history class, despite the fact that he would always stick his chewing gum under the tables.”

“And he didn’t wash his hands after peeing,” Steve reminds her.

“I know, it was gross and why I stopped liking him,” Chrissy says. “What about you? Do you have any deal breakers in guys?”

“You’re persistent,” Steve laughs.

“Thank you,” Chrissy grins.

Steve is quiet for a second, then he blushes and softly admits: “I like dimples. And muscles. Like on the arms. Arm muscles are good.”

Chrissy squeals and gushes: “Oh my god, when a guy lifts something, right?”

“God, yes,” Steve groans sinking into the couch as he remembers Eddie lifting the heavy tools onto the roof of the very cabin he’s in. Next to him Chrissy giggles. He can’t help but laugh too, a giddy feeling spreading through his limbs. He always wanted to join when the cheerleaders gossiped about crushes and now he can. It feels like acceptance.

“What else? What else?” Chrissy demands, slapping his arm excitedly.

The only person Steve has ever talked about this is Robin and he is worried about it being too much for Chrissy and that she’ll be grossed out, so he keeps it a bit less explicit and skips over the fingers to say: “Stubble is nice.”

“Oeh, yeah, like Indiana Jones,” Chrissy squeals excitedly.

“Yeah, like Indiana Jones,” Steve agrees, because Harrison Ford is hot and he is not ashamed of thinking that.

They continue to talk about boys for a little while longer. Steve admits to thinking Micheal J. Fox and Judd Nelson are hot, which delights Chrissy. She doesn’t seemed grossed out all throughout the conversation and Steve is practically floating on air as he drives her home.

Even in his wildest dreams, he would not have thought Chrissy would be this cool about it all. Hell, he would never have thought he’d ever come out to her, yet here he is. She is the fourth person to know after Eddie, Robin and Will, that is four more than he’d thought. It feels like a middle finger to his parents to tell her. To not deny it. Steve feels great.

He contemplates calling Robin to tell her when he gets home, but his phone bill is already criminal and he’s driving her to school tomorrow morning. He can wait.

Steve makes himself dinner and eats. He doesn’t have many hobbies, but there are always little things to do in the cabin. However, before he can commit himself to any of them, there is a knock on the door. Steve isn’t expecting anyone, but there are multiple people who could randomly be standing on his doorstep.

Today it’s Eddie. He’s grinning and holding up a six pack as he asks: “Wanna drink and forget high school exists?”

“Sure, man,” Steve grins and steps aside to let him in as he asks: “What subject is kicking your ass this time?”

“All of them,” Eddie groans, shrugging off his jacket, six pack on the coffee table. He flops down on Steve’s couch and Steve’s heart does a flip at how comfortable Eddie is in his house. Eddie continues: “I don’t know why, but they all have it out for me. I don’t want to be doing all of this again either, you know?”

“High school just sucks, I think,” Steve offers, pushing Eddie’s feet of the couch so he can sit next to him.

“It does,” Eddie agrees, coming up from his flopped position to sit next to Steve, their thighs pressing together, which neither of them comment on. “But word is, you and Chrissy are dating, what’s that about?”

“Some guy wouldn’t stop hitting on her, so she said we were dating so he’d get of her back,” Steve shrugs. He doesn’t really care if that gets around, if it means Chrissy gets left alone. Plus, it’ll be good for his reputation.

“And does she know the dating is fake?” Eddie asks.

“You mean, does she know I’m gay?” Steve counters. “Yes, actually. Told her today, but she kind of guessed already. It’s why she said me.”

“Damn, congrats man,” Eddie says as he pops open two beers with his rings, something Steve will always find attractive and offers one to Steve as he toast: “To you coming out to Chrissy.”

“Cheers,” Steve cheers, clinking his bottle against Eddie’s.

A comfortable silence falls over them as they both take a sip of their beer. Eddie has become a common guest at Steve’s. Not every week, but at least once every two weeks he’ll be on Steve’s doorstep and Steve always craves it like a dying man does water.

He knows that this is bad for the burning crush and Robin calls him pathetic, but he likes having Eddie to himself, hidden away from the world in the little cabin. So, he never says anything that could discourage Eddie from coming back again.

Steve is too anxious to go to Eddie’s place, so he just keeps welcoming Eddie whenever he comes to Steve’s.

“But enough about school,” Eddie grins. “How are you, Stevie-boy? Customer still as traumatic as ever?”

“Fuck, don’t even joke about it.” Now it’s Steve’s turn to groan. “Just yesterday this lady came in and she yelled at me for half an hour for renting her son an R-rated movie. Her son is sixteen and it was her husband that rented the movie. Like, why?”

“That’s the worsttt,” Eddie says. “I swear, you can shoot me if I ever try to get a job like that. I think I would get into a fight within a week.”

“Wouldn’t rule it out,” Steve snorts. “I fantasize about murdering some people in moments like that. To keep me sane.”

“Remind me to stay on your good side,” Eddie grins, head lolling against the back of the couch as he does, neck on display.

Fuck, Steve wants to bite it.

He doesn’t though. These nights with Eddie are an exercise in self restraint. Instead, he grins back and says: “I promise to make it look like an accident,” before reclining on the couch as well.

“You can be terrifying, dude,” Eddie tells him, sounding both awed and delighted. Then he launches into a story about the campaign he’s running that it reminded him off. Steve has already heard about it from Dustin, but gladly listens to it again in Eddie’s warm voice.

They make their way through the six pack slowly and quickly take a smoke break. Eddie usually smokes a joint, but he is out of joints and smokes.

Steve is on his last cigarette, which they share. Every time Steve takes a drag he has to remind himself to not think about how the filter is still wet from where it had been in Eddie’s mouth earlier. Has to remind they’re only sharing because they’re both out. That it isn’t special.

After their smoke break they migrate back to the couch. Steve is feeling tired, but he doesn’t want Eddie to go yet, so tries to keep blinking his eyes open for as long as he can.

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind his tired audience and keeps up rambles about whatever comes to his mind. It always amazes Steve how Eddie never seems to run out of topics to talk about. He just keeps talking, hands waving about, until they begin to fidget with the couch cushion, before moving to Steve’s hair.

Usually Steve is very protective of his hair, but Robin has no boundaries and he figured out how nice it is to have someone play with his hair. So, when Eddie’s hand touches his hair, twisting a bit around his finger, Steve leans into the contact before Eddie can stop.

There is a slight falter in Eddie’s sentence, but picks up right where he left of when Steve blinks at him, too exhausted to register what exactly is happening.

And when Eddie plays with his hair, Steve is playing a loosing game. He’s already tired, the nightmares cutting into his sleeping time, and the safety of someone watching over him combined with the soothing hands in his hair, means that Steve is dropping off before he can stop it.

While Steve isn’t the best sleeper, he normally sleeps better with other people there. However, it seems the universe has it out for him, because his brain comes up with a horror show that includes all the worst days of his life, until he’s gasping as he falls of the couch.

He scrambles up into a fighting position when someone moves, before the curls register. His brain says Nancy, which means there is at least back up. Then it registers a concerned: “Stevie, sweetheart, are you in there?” in something that is definitely is not Nancy’s voice.

Eddie, it pings, but before he can say anything, his stomach acts up and he stumbles to the bathroom, where he drops to his knees and sees the three beers and his dinner again.

As he’s retching into the bowl in a high mortifying and undignified manner, a warm hand rubs his back soothingly. Another hand gently pushes his bangs out of his face. He can hear Eddie gently murmur: “You’re okay, I got you, you’re alright, sweetheart.”

Tears well up in Steve’s eyes and stream down his face, mixing with the snot, spit and bile already gathering there. He probably looks fucking disgusting and pathetic and he hates that Eddie is seeing him like this, but he’s still shivering with fear and can’t bring himself to stop. Eddie’s words are helping too and he is unable to send Eddie away.

Steve dry heaves for a few seconds, before he coughs and spits the last bit into the bowl. He sniffles and reaches for the toilet roll, blowing his nose and throwing it into the toilet before flushing it with the rest of his dinner.

He knows he should face Eddie now, explain what happen and tell him that he’s okay and that Eddie shouldn’t worry. Instead, however, he sits on his knees next to the toilet with hunched shoulders, unable to look Eddie in the eyes as his cheeks burn. What an impression to make, he thinks bitterly.

There is a moment of quiet between them, throughout it Eddie keeps up the rubbing on Steve’s back that Steve wants to shrug off, but also uses like a lifeline.

“Are- are you okay?” Eddie asks cautiously when the silence drags on without Steve moving or saying anything.

Steve swallows thickly, the image of Robin’s corpse still in his fresh on mind, fake as it might have been. “Yeah,” he assures Eddie with shaky voice that does not sound believable in the slightest. “I- I am okay. I just- I need to see Robin.”

“Robin?” Eddie frowns.

“Fuck, I- I have to go check on her,” Steve says, stumbling to his feet. He’s more present, but still trembling with fear. He won’t be able to calm down until he has seen Robin. He hasn’t had a nightmare this bad in weeks.

He staggers into the living room, still not having faced Eddie. He already made a fool out of himself, might as well look like a full madman, if that means he can get to Robin right now. He gropes around for his car keys, letting out a victorious noise when he fishes them out of his jacket pocket.

The keys are immediately plucked out of his hands and he whirls around with a wounded noise as he pleads: “Give those back.”

“No,” Eddie says. He looks worried, but determined. “I don’t know what just happened, but you’re out of it. I’m not letting you drive like this. If you want to see Robin, I’ll drive you.”

Steve wants to protest. He doesn’t need to be babied, he doesn’t need concern and he definitely doesn’t need Eddie to see him break down again when he sees Robin. However, he can also see that he is not winning this argument right now. He looks a mess and isn’t in a state to have a fight, he’s more likely to start crying again.

So, he huffs: “Alright, fine,” and crosses his arms, before storming out of the cabin.

Eddie rushes behind him, snatching a coat for Steve and locking the door, before he rushes to his van, which is parked in a way that locks in Steve’s car. Both of them climb in, since that is easier and Eddie starts the van. Steve gets jump-scared by the music that Eddie quickly turns down with an apology.

They drive the first part in silence. Steve looks at the passing scenery with unseeing eyes, his leg jiggling anxiously. What if he gets there and the door is broken down? What if Robin as been dragged away by some creature from the Upside Down? What if she has been taken by Russians, who have tracked her down? What if she’s dead?

He is snapped out of his thoughts by Eddie, who softly asks: “Wanna tell me what happened?”

“Nightmare,” Steve answers, looking down. Apart from the argument about the driving, he hasn’t looked at Eddie, and that was fueled by desperation, which he feels guilty about. Eddie doesn’t deserve his bullshit. He wonders if Eddie’s mad at how he acted.

“Looked like a bad one,” Eddie prompts when Steve offers nothing more. He doesn’t sound mad, just confused and scared. More worried, actually.

Steve chances a glance his way. Eddie is tapping the steering wheel anxiously, focusing on the road, before he glances Steve’s way. A small, involuntary and relieved smile appears on his face when he sees that Steve is looking back.

There are dimples in that smile and Steve’s nerves are calmed by them. He says: “It was. I’ve been getting them about Robin ever since the mall burned down. Just need to make sure she’s okay, you know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Eddie nods. “I get you don’t want to talk about it, but you could, you know. If you want to of course. It must have been terrible.”

“It was,” Steve confirms, a shudder wracking his body as he remembers that cold Russian bunker ground. He pushes it out of his mind and says: “But I’m good. I don’t want to talk about it.” He isn’t allowed, even if he wanted to, which he doesn’t. Not really.

Eddie gives a shrug that seems to say ‘that’s fair’, before he smiles: “Course.”

They’re pulling into Robin’s street and Steve is already out of the van, before Eddie has fully stopped. Now that he’s so close, his anxiety is ramping up again and he fumbles with the key, before unlocking the door.

It’s still pretty early in the evening, so Robin is still awake. She must have heard him, because she’s already meeting him at the door. Seeing her there in her pajama clad glory sends a wave of relief through Steve and he stumbles into her arms, holding her close.

She clings right back, practically climbing him to hug him properly, in a way that grounds them both. She kisses his forehead and whispers: “I’m okay, dingus. We’re okay. We made it out of there.”

Behind them, Eddie clears his throat. Steve sets Robin down again as Robin looks surprised at the new visitor. To break the tension Steve laughs: “Good thing you know I’m gay or that would have been awkward to explain.”

That gets him wide-eyed looks from both of them and he says: “Oh yeah, both of you know. It’s fine, I’m not outing myself on accident here.”

“Eddie was the other person that knew?” Robin practically screeches.

Steve winces and covers his ear as he wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, he is. Who else did you think it was, I told you I told him I got kicked out.”

“Chrissy, dingus! Obviously, Chrissy. Why would I think Eddie when you and Chrissy are thick as thieves?” Robin exclaims. “Does she not know? I mean, I haven’t said anything about it to her, but I have a motor mouth, so I need to keep an eye on that, because I don’t-”

“Robs, she knows,” Steve cuts her off, before she can spiral. “I came out to her today. I was going to tell you on your way to school.”

“She’s cool?” Robin asks.

“She’s cool,” Steve grins.

“Congrats, dingus,” she grins back, punching his arm in a way that is a bit too hard.

“Ouch,” Steve yelps, massaging where she hit him. He glares: “You’re stocking shelves during our shift, I can’t. You’ve injured me.”

“I haven’t injured you, you drama queen,” Robin rolls her eyes. “You’re the one telling me I have noodle arms. It can’t have been that bad.”

Steve is about to counter, but is interrupted by Eddie before he can. “Okay, so while this is entertaining, I am also confused. Are you doing okay now, Stevie? Is this some weird ritual you two do? Is that what you needed? Should I go?”

Robin bursts out into a loud cackle at Eddie’s questions and confused face as he awkwardly hovers in the doorway.

“Ah, sorry,” Steve flushes bright red. He and Robin can get caught up their own world and he honestly hadn’t realized how odd their bickering must look to Eddie, who held his hair back as he threw up from his nightmare like half an hour ago.

“It’s okay,” Eddie smiles. “Just catch me up a bit.”

“I’m good now, thank you for driving me after I freaked out on you,” Steve says.

“Yes, thank you,” Robin adds. “This dingus always drives when he’s freaked out and I keep telling him he should be safe, but he always does it anyway.”

Bitchily Steve crosses his arms and says: “I have to or I’ll never calm down. Do you want me to run all this way? Is that what you would prefer?”

“You could call,” Robin bitches, crossing arms right back.

“I don’t want to call your parents awake,” Steve counters.

“My parents don’t care, if you do,” Robin says.

“Okay, as fun as this wonder-twin arguing act is,” Eddie interrupts again. “Is there anything I can do? Or should I leave.”

“Sorry,” Steve apologizes again. “I’m just all over the place,” he says, like he is not always like this when Robin is there. “I feel kind of bad about how tonight ended.”

“That reminds me, what were you doing at Steve’s when he was asleep?” Robin butts in, like Steve hasn’t told her about Eddie’s visits.

Steve elbows her, but she ignores him as Eddie blushes. He kicks the ground a bit, before shrugging: “I mean, we hang out sometimes. Steve fell asleep on me, he looked peaceful. I didn’t wanna wake him.”

The confession makes Steve’s heart do something interesting as Robin coos: “That’s actually really sweet. He needs his rest.”

“He is right here,” Steve says, before Robin can embarrass him more. He turns back to Eddie and gives him a smile – Steve does not realize how that smile makes Eddie melt – and says: “Thank you for that. Again I’m sorry how tonight ended.”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Eddie smiles and Steve already misses the sweetheart from when he was comforting him. “We all have our shit.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods with a lopsided smile.

“Well, if you’re in good hands,” Eddie says and Robin pipes up: “He is,” which makes Eddie, smile before he goes on: “Then I’ll see you around.”

“See you around,” Steve greets, feeling a bit silly.

They watch Eddie climb into his van, before pulling out of the driveway. They smile and wave at him, but as they watch him, Robin comments: “I take back my thanks about him driving you, he is a danger on the road.”

Steve snorts out a laugh, before cutting himself off and saying: “My car is still at the cabin. How am I going to drive you?”

“Fuck,” Robin says. “Guess we’ll have to be really nice to my dad at breakfast tomorrow or I have to find my bike again.”

She closes the door and starts to turn off a few of the lights around the house as she puts on the kettle, Steve following behind her like a puppy. Her presence is soothing and he keeps a hold of the back of her shirt as they walk around.

When the tea is done, they take it to Robin’s room and press closely together on her bed as they sip their tea. It’s then that Robin asks: “Wanna talk about it?”

“Nothing new,” Steve shrugs. “You died. I couldn't save you.”

Robin makes a sympathetic noise and rests her head on his shoulder. Her hand creeps between them to squeeze his and the message is clear: You did save me, we made it out. We’re alive.

Steve squeezes back.

They sit like that, in a comfortable silence until their tea is gone, then Robin grins at him and says: “So, Eddie was a gentleman.”

“Shut up,” Steve blushes, as he pushes her grinning face away.

“Ahww, come on, give me something,” Robin whines. “He drove you here. He let you sleep on him, because you needed the rest.”

“He saw me throw up because my dreams scared me,” Steve deadpans. “It was the opposite of romantic. It was humiliating.”

Robin pouts: “You’re no fun, dingus. He didn’t look like he minded. He was worried about you, from where I was standing. He cares.”

“Of course he cares, we’re friends,” Steve defends himself.

“He knows you’re gay,” Robin points out.

“He does,” Steve says. “That doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Do you know if he is?” Robin asks. “Stop. No. I don’t want to ask that. No outing here, no, sir. I mean, if he is gay, then he is definitely into you.”

“You don’t know that,” Steve tells her, but inside he is bursting with feelings.

“Maybe not, but I have perfectly fine eyes, thank you,” Robin says.

“Shut up,” is all Steve replies and gets up to brush his teeth as Robin follows him, blessedly quiet about Eddie.

He wants to believe her, truly he does. He just knows he can’t. He isn’t ready to try and date anyone he actually likes. Another boy. And if he thinks too hard about it, he might do something stupid and it will blow up in his face. Being friends with Eddie is more than enough.

They don’t talk about it again and crawl into bed together. After his earlier nightmare, Steve sleeps uneasily, though soothed by Robin’s presence.

The next morning, neither Daisy nor Thomas are surprised that Steve is there. He and Robin are extra nice to Thomas, who can only drive Steve to his car so he doesn’t have to walk all the way out there, before work, while Robin has to bike to school.

Robin complains loudly about her father picking favorites, but it’s all in jest. The Buckleys always make Steve feel like a part of the family.

During the afternoon shift, he tells Robin all about coming out to Chrissy. She isn’t going to tell her about being a lesbian yet, but she is excited about how well she took it anyway.

The next day, Steve picks up the boys from Hellfire club and Eddie checks him over to see if he’s okay, before putting on their little act. The action makes Steve’s stomach flutter in a way he can’t fully suppress.

~~

A/N:

Ahwww, it’s going to well for Steve!!! ….Would be a shame if anything fucked that up….

#rr writing #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stobin #buckingham #chrissy cunningham #steve harrington & chrissy cunningham #steve and robin #cheerleader steve harrington au #st post season 3 #tw: nightmares #tw: vomiting #tw: period typical sexism #tw: homophobia mention

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Reason 101 to Wear Your Helmet

It’s not normally Virgil who runs into trouble taking his helmet off at a rescue.

(Trigger Warning: Vomiting. You have been warned.)

It was with great relief that Virgil finally wormed his way out of the debris stack he had been forced to crawl through. Something in the pile was messing with the sensors, and John was only 95 percent certain that the life sign was erroneous data, so physical recon had been needed.

It had taken longer than anticipated for the powerful scanner rig Virgil had worked into the heart of the former building to take and relay the necessary readings to John on Thunderbird Five, but his older spaceborne brother had finally declared the debris survivor-free.

Virgil tried not to think that that didn’t mean everybody had gotten out.

It had taken Virgil even longer to work his way back out of the debris pile, again lugging the scanner that seemed to grow even less portable with each passing minute.

Equally alarming was the rapidly diminishing O2 levels showing on his helmets HUD. The air was getting pretty stale by the time he finally worked himself free, and he founding himself panting for breath. It was with great relief when he was finally able to pull off his helmet and suck in great lungful’s of mercifully fresh oxygen.

If only that was all he’d sucked in.

He’d been so desperate for air, he’d breathed in open mouthed, and was only aware of the flies surrounding him one impacted the back of his throat.

The effect was instantaneous.

Virgil retched violently; gagging, coughing and spluttering, as his entire body rejected the invasion. From down near his feet, John’s alarmed voice emanated from his helmet, but Virgil was helpless to respond. His body rolled with nausea, great waves working up from the pit of his stomach to his mouth as he coughed and dry heaved helplessly. By the time Scott thundered to a stop beside him, he was doubled over and actually vomiting, acid watery bile splattering the ground and his boots, burning his throat and tongue on its way past.

He ignored the scanner as the yellow beam passed over him, and gradually got his body back under control as Scott stared, baffled, at the cheerful green readouts.

“Virg, what’s wrong?”

He couldn’t speak to answer, still gagging and spitting out alarming amounts of saliva as his stomach still occasionally roiled. He mimed ‘fly’, and hoped Scott understood.

Scott understood. At least partially. “Fly? Oh, you swallowed a fly!”

It was enough to set him off again. His throat closing up and the roiling and coughing intensified until his stomach ejected what precious little was left. Virgil noted with a kind of vague satisfaction that Scott hadn’t got out of the splatter zone in time, and his boots and legs were now liberally decorated with his former stomach contents.

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” Scott finally remembered. “Hit the spot, huh?”

Virgil glared, weakly, from where he was still doubled over, desperately trying to evict the sensation (and hopefully the invader) from his body.

Scott triggered his comms. “False alarm, John. Virgil … had a close encounter with local wildlife.”

“Local wildlife?” John was radiating anxiety from space. “What was it? Did it bite him? Does he need a hospital?”

And Scott, damn him, smirked. “Only if he decides to swallow a spider, a bird, a cat, a dog …”

“Huh?” The look of incomprehension on John’s face was comical, and Virgil would have enjoyed it if he wasn’t so focused on his desire to wipe that smirk of Scott’s face. And gagging.

“Oh!” John had reached enlightenment. “He swallowed a fly?”

Bastards! Virgil thought, as his body reacted involuntarily, going in for his third round of intense retching. His older brothers were definitely going to pay for this, and pay dearly.

Scott finally took pity on him, and dragged him back to the safety of Thunderbird Two, where Brain’s elaborate biosecurity measures meant the interior was blissfully insect-free.

As Virgil enthusiastically gargled and scrubbed at his teeth, trying to get rid of the phantom sensation. Scott watched him carefully, monitoring for signs of ‘relapse’. Virgil knew there was no way he was living this down.

“How’d it happen, Virg?” Scott asked carefully, trying to avoid setting off Virgil’s over-active disgust reaction.

Virgil glared. “How know how it had to have happened. I took my helmet off,” he growled.

Scott’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, like Thunderbird Three launching into space. “YOU took your helmet off? Mr Safety? Mr For-the-Hundredth-Time-Scott-Don’t-Take-Your-Helmet-Off? YOU took your helmet off?”

Virgil glared and keyed in the holographic readout on his gauntlet. The urgent red blinking ‘low oxygen’ alert hung in the air between them.

“Oh.” Scott’s eyebrows returned to their proper place. “Yeah. That’s a good reason.”

Virgil grunted.

Scott smirked. “Although we have just found reason one hundred and one to keep your helmet on!”

He darted out of the small bathroom with Virgil’s helmet in flying pursuit.

A week later, Brains found his laboratory meticulously cleared of his current project, and a proposed design adjustment for the ground-ops helmets sitting in its place. A handwritten note from Virgil read: ‘Urgent adjustment needed for ground-ops helmet. Require emergency air-intake and filtration. Proposed amendment for your immediate review.’

International Rescue’s chief engineer smiled. Virgil was accommodating Reason 101 to Wear Your Helmet, now officially enshrined in the ‘Big Book of Rescues’.

Virgil Tracy was never going to swallow a fly again.

Notes:

I.

HATE.

FLIES.

And yes, I have been known to throw up after inhaling a fly. It just hits THAT spot, and …

Gross.

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

#fanfiction #my fanfic #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #virgil tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #tw: vomiting

[a-little-birdie]

can u do rottmnt x reader suffering from period

Heck yeah! Because you didn’t specify who or what the relationship is, ima just do general headcannon style (with some small blurbs) with the main boys and romantic if that’s okay! I wanted to try my hand at romantic for a bit, of course mikey is platonic!

Tw: female anatomy but I did my best to make the reader as gender neutral as possible, talk of periods, blood, menstrual pain, nausea, vomiting the works.

General

Im going to say it here and now: Splinter did not teach his sons about periods or anything like that. However April did explain everything to them before they met you so they actually understand quite a bit. They listened to April very intently because it means they’d be able to help her in the future with anything she might need or want.

So if you come to the sewers looking uncomfy or in pain, Mikey has the most awesomest chocolate in the world hand made by the one and only, Leo is in the kitchen making tea for you, Raph has plenty of pain pills and gravol to share and Donnie has blankets and heating pads!

Even though they understand the pain you’re feeling they’re still goofballs so they’ll pretend to be you while on your period sometimes and it’ll become a “who can make the best zombie impression” contest. It’s still great fun though.

Leo

I’m going to say he’s very sweet when you’re on your period, if you’re ever sore or in pain or just in general uncomfortable he’s always willing to help you out.

Has stolen menstrual health products for you and will do it again.

His favourite thing to do with you while your on your period is turn on the TV and cuddle while marathoning movies together. Sweet, salty, spicy and savoury overpriced snacks surround the two of you as you watch the movies together. It’s nice.

You sit cuddled up against Leo’s plastron while playing with the tails of his bandana. Leo currently has his arms wrapped around you as he slowly works through a small knot in your back. Another wave of pain hits you and you shudder in Leo’s arms. “Leo.” You whine out and he kisses your temple while moving the blankets around a bit to better cover the two of you. “I know, I know. It hurts, but it’ll be okay. It’s just a little longer.” You whine a little more before nodding and settling back down. Leo gives you another kiss as he squeezes you in a gentle hug and then starting to work more on the knot he was earlier. Just a few more minutes before the pain meds kick in. Then you’ll be able to eat all the junk food you want and marathon movies with Leo.

Raph

This man has all the pain meds you might need. Advil? Check. Tylenol? Yep. Aleve? What does he look like, a chump? And of course he also has Gravol for any nausea you might have.

Speaking of Gravol you tend to need it, a lot. It’s not something he’s upset about though. He’s the oldest brother to three other children in a sewer pipe, when they were younger they’d get into all kinds of crap that would make them sick. So it’s okay, just let Raph comfort you.

When you’re not nauseous and having to live with a bucket in between your hands, the two of you pretty much continue on as business as normal. While you still take it easy (because Raph refuses to let you push yourself to far) you still do some light workouts and stretching with him and the boys.

(Warning!! I know I already mentioned vomiting and nausea but this is where it’s ramped up! There is some description, but not much.)

You sat on Raphs bed with a blanket around your shoulders. He had quickly cleaned his room before you walked in which was really sweet but you couldn’t care less while you were puking your brains out. You swallowed as another wave of nausea rolled over you, trying not to lose whatever food you had left in your stomach before giving up. You gagged as you vomited into the bucket and looked at what was inside. Eggs from breakfast and…. “Carrots, why is there always carrots?” You mumble out loud as Raph rubs your back in a soothing motion as he hands you your water bottle. After rinsing your mouth of whatever bile was left in there you settle back against Raphs side. Raph puts an arm around you shoulders. “You gonna be okay?” You nod your head as you lean into him, a grounding and solid weight you can rely on whenever you want. Yeah, you’ll be okay, especially with Raph here to help you.

Donnie

Donnie understands your pain, at least a little. He’s had really bad stomach cramps and has just felt overall really bad. But Y’know what’s always helped him? Coffee, heated, weighted and normal blankets and video games. It’s to do with something something rest something something don’t worry about anything.

If you come over looking like and even feeling like death, he’ll set you up with a nice cuppa Joe (coffee) if you want and your choice of heated and weighted blankets. Then he’ll hand you a controller and join you for a game of your choosing. It’s quiet and he’s not the most physically affectionate but it’s more the silent “I’m here, don’t worry” message when he passes you the blankets.

Will get you anything you want. Literally anything. Remember how splinter wanted some extinct robin eggs or something like that and S.H.E.L.D.O.N. Got him DINO EGGS OF ALL THINGS??? Yeah, he can and will get you anything. So if you want some super fancy croissant? He’ll go to Paris and steal get one from the greatest pastry chef in France. Or you want some kind of cheese that was only available a long time ago? Hold on one second, he’ll send Sheldon out for you.

You sat comfortably on a separate gaming chair next to Donnie, both of you sipping on coffee while playing Stardew Valley (I play Stardew and it’s really comforting, if you don’t like it you can imagine something else) together. You were trying to get the perfection ending by the end of year two, which was a challenge but still nice. Of course Donnie figured out a schedule and a chart to be as efficient as possible, however with things like weather being random it became more of a guideline than anything. “Damn it.” You hiss out as you lost the fishing mini game. “You’ll get it next time.” Donnie reassures you and you look at him. “Right, like when you said that the last three times.” Donnie raises his eyebrows. “Scoff.” Is his only reply. “Snort.” You playfully retort back and the both of you smile as you continue playing together, enjoying the music of the video game.

Mikey (platonic)

This dude is so ready to help you feel better ASAP. Prepare for Dr. Feelings, Dr. Positive and even Dr. Delicate Touch if you need a swift kick in the butt. But you’re most likely just gonna be cooking in the kitchen with Mikey. You two are gonna make the greatest pizza in the entire world!

After pizza you two play some slightly competitive video games. It’s loads of fun with lighthearted banter and trash talk. Of course there’s some playful wrestling involved! You totally don’t steal his remote before he can reach the finish line in Mario kart

All in all, spending time with Mikey while on your period is mostly just him trying to cheer you up and help distract you from how uncomfortable your period is. You’re his best friend and he hates seeing you in any type of pain, so he’s going to do his absolute darnedest to help you out as much as possible!

You sat on a beanbag in front of the large tv next to Mikey, the upbeat and fast paced music of the racing video game keeping you focused on beating the other to the finish line. “Oh, you are going down!” You scoff as Mikey clicks away at his controller furiously. “Yeah right! We both know I’m the reigning champ!! And as always. Eat. My. Dust.” You say with a finality that is punctuated with your ultimate move. A big, fat “YOU LOSE!!” Screen flashes across Mikey’s half of the game and you let out a victory whoop. “Noooooooooo! My victory! My high score! My win streak!! Stolen from me by my one and only friend!” Mikey says with a theatrical air while dramatically sinking to the ground in mock despair. “What will I do now? How shall I live on?” You wheeze after holding back your snorts and snickers and burst into full laughter. Mikey joins you rolling on the floor and clutching his sides. After both of you calm down you purse your lips before looking at Mikey. “Wanna go for round two?” Mikey gives you a devilish smile telling you he won’t let his win streak go so easily. “You’re on!!”

Wow, much longer than I expected! They all aren’t balanced, especially in terms of quality I think. I tried to make it more balanced though between the four of them. Lemme know what’cha think! I absolutely loved writing this by the way, it was quite comforting. Periods really suck so I hope this might comfort anyone dealing with that stuff! I wanted to get a bit of all the different sides of a period but I didn’t really get to sadly. And I’m gonna stop there because if I don’t I’m gonna go into a big long spiel about periods and no one wants to hear or read that! Anyways hope you enjoyed and that this is what you wanted!!

#fandom: rottmnt #c: donnie #c: leo #c: Mikey #c: Raph #Donnie x reader #Mikey x reader/p #Raph x reader #Leo x reader #ROTTMNT #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt x reader #tw: blood #tw: period #tw: period talk #tw: vomiting #tw: nausea #tw: female anatomy

[batwynn]

I might be built different, but I was just catching up on literal months of being off Tumblr (I'm OCD, it's irrelevant). I saw a bunch of posts where you were hedging about talking about your health or anything personal because of anon hate, and I just wanted to say that I absolutely care and want to hear about how you're doing. If people do not want to, you 1) have told people what tag to blacklist, and 2) have an "unfollow" button. It's not hard to show compassion. You are important to me.

To be honest, I reached a point of no return when people were being pointlessly cruel while I was literally so Ill that I was dying. (not once, but twice in one year!) I mean, one full on disgustingly hateful message after another while I was laying in a hospital bed waiting for another brain scan or vomiting up the water they forced me to try.

It’s not that I don’t love and appreciate the kindness of folks like you who do give a hoot about me, and/or are nice enough to scroll by if you don’t have the spoons for it or who are capable of using the black list tag option without complaint. I really do appreciate that so much, and it makes me feel like some people actually remember that I’m a real person still. But I don’t think I can ever really go back to fully talking about my health or a lot of my personal life ever again after that.

I don’t even really feel comfortable disclosing details to close friends anymore, because around the same time I (understandably, I’d think) felt like maybe straight up dying would be better than sort-of-dying-and-suffering for months/years at a time and I had a newish friend stalk me through someone else they knew who ordered something from me, call the police (on a trans/queer and bed ridden disabled person) to come do a ‘wellness check’ on me when they knew I couldn’t get out of bed to even answer the door, never mind the fact that the fucking police do not help in a mental health crisis to begin with. And then they got angry that I wasn’t thankful enough for this, and spread lies and made up a bunch of Evil™️ stuff I supposedly did to deserve having the cops called on me or whatever.

So, yeah. All I’ve really learned is people don’t see me as a real person with a life outside of art, or they sort of do but don’t know the best way to react to it and end up doing something that could cause more harm in… a really inappropriate way. I can’t fault anyone for either one, really. But I sure as hell am not being as open or even as kind as I used to be. And I guess that’s just how the internet is, in the end.

Thank you, though, for caring. Like I said, you and others like you are very highly appreciated. And thanks for reaching out after a long time away from Tumblr. I hope it’s been more fun and not perusing through the Tumblr back log lol. Enjoy the absolute batshit memes we’ve grown here over the past few months, they’re fresh to death.

#nice anon #health stuff #tw: vomiting #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: hospital #Batwynn talks #black list to not see anything personal

[lilliths-httyd-blog]

just got stabbed

at the hospital

by a nurse

i got a vaccine

i bled a bit which was fun and then almost threw up but feeling fine now gonna try to finish a fanfiction

#vaccine #tw: stabbing #tw: hospitals #tw: blood #tw: vomiting

[ingoinghost]

Ingo's sense of taste has been going recently.

"Strange," he mumbles, withdrawing the water skin from his lips and tilting his head back to inspect it. "Do you think I could have contaminated my blood supply somehow?"

Gliscor flicks its eyes from side to side, looking for whoever else its partner expects to answer. They are the only ones present save for the wild Zubat towards the back of the cave of course, and Gliscor ends up giving its best impression of a confused, helpless shrug.

Ingo hums. He taps a finger to his chin in thought.

"I didn't think I could get sick. Did you?"

"Krrrsssttt?" Gliscor hisses. It lifts its pincers to its head and lets them flop sideways, as if to say "How should I know?"

Ingo sighs.

"Another mystery lost to me, then. Guess we will never know."

Gliscor pins its ears flat back against its head in displeasure.

Ingo stares at the half-full water skin. He moves his wrist in a circle, stirring the contents. His frown deepens; conflicted.

"I think... I may have a hunch, actually. I can only hope I'm wrong. Consuming wild Pokémon blood is bad enough. No offense! I feel guilty for doing so, is what I mean to say. But I really don't want to have to..."

Gliscor cries out in alarm as Ingo suddenly downs the rest of the blood in one swift movement, flaring its wings and leaping forward to steal the water skin. Ingo easily keeps Gliscor at bay with one hand pressing against its head.

"While I am heartened by your concern, I must insist I am quite alright," Ingo huffs, quietly amused by the bat-scorpion's flailing pincers. He lowers the empty water skin before he lets his hand fall, and Gliscor promptly snatches it up and tears it to shreds.

"Gliscor!" Ingo exclaims, dismayed. "That was completely unnecessary - gah!"

Gliscor pauses, strips of leather caught between its pincers as it watches its partner slap his hand to his mouth. The other clutches his stomach, and Ingo's unnaturally bright eyes widen in shock as he hunches over, already sickly skin somehow both paling and bruising a shade further.

"Vvvrrss - ?"

Ingo heaves, lurching forward to throw up a mouthful of blood. It splatters against the cave floor, bright and nauseating and red. Gliscor shrieks, bolting into the air and instinctively starting up a racket that scares the wild Zubat out from the rafters and fleeing into the daytime sky.

Ingo looks stricken.

"Nocturnal passengers must keep their wings and tails inside the car at all day-times - !"

Another mouthful of blood cuts him off, and Gliscor winces.

Oh, Almighty Sinnoh, it is not trained for this. What in the Dark World Emissary's six hells is it supposed to do with a blood-vomiting monster-human? Lady Sneasler is going to be so mad with it.

The steadily growing puddle of blood is distressingly more than the amount Ingo had previously consumed. The warden shudders, ivory Seviper's teeth caked red as he clenches his jaw, fighting against his own body and trembling from the pain. It takes Gliscor all its restraint not to force an oran berry down his throat.

Ingo coughs and splutters. A thick glob of the stuff gets caught in his teeth, and the noise he makes is so loud and, well, bloodcurdling, that even the alpha Crobat in Wayward Cave would surely fly straight into a wall to hear it.

Gliscor peels itself off the stone it mindlessly flung itself into to huddle against its miserable partner. It can provide some source of comfort whilst Ingo retches and trembles and cries over the lost fruits of a successful hunt, right?

Ingo doesn't seem terribly aware Gliscor is even there.

"Rrrssst?"

There's a long, drawn-out groan. A painful hacking to clear a clogged throat. One last, full-bodied shudder.

The involuntary purge finally stops.

Gliscor titters impatiently.

A weary sigh.

"I was right," Ingo eventually manages through his mouth full of icepicks. He looks defeated. "I can't survive like this. I need human blood. Ha..."

Ingo lists sideways. It's a good thing, then, that Gliscor is ready to catch its pathetic little Glameow-meow of a partner as Ingo's eyes roll back in his head as he passes out in a dead faint.

He's surprisingly heavy for someone as thin as a rail.

Almighty Sinnoh's tits, Gliscor thinks.

#submas #subway boss ingo #subway master nobori #gliscor #pokemon legends arceus #pla #fanfiction #my writing #tw: vomiting #tw: emetophobia #vampire ingo

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1095

TW: alcohol / emetophobia / spiking

Did you know that the most common method of spiking is with alcohol? 

That being said, your whumpee spends a carefree evening with friends. They’ve been sober for a while, and have truly worked hard to get to where they are now. So they sit back with a glass of coke at the bar, watching their friends do some drunk karaoke/fail miserably at hitting on people at the bar. 

When someone offers to buy the next round, they of course say yes, and they are brought another glass of coke (or your whumpees preferred soft drink. Whatever works). They’re thirsty, so they drink at least a quarter of it pretty quickly... but stop when they see someone laughing. 

Then it hits them. The taste of vodka on their tongue; clear as day. It burns. 

The perpetrators laugh as he tries to use someone else’s water to get it off their tongue. But the damage has already been done, and your whumpee panics. 

Maybe they rush to the toilets to make themselves throw up. Maybe they have a full blown panic attack, because they’ve ‘failed’  and don’t want to put their friends and family through that again. They’ve worked so hard, so fucking hard to get better...

A while later one of the more sober friends finds them in the cubicle, sobbing and apologising profusely. The sober friend tries to reassure them that it’s alright - that they’re still sober, and that they’ve done nothing wrong and they promise to keep an eye on your whumpee the next few days, as your whumpee is terrified of relapsing. 

When word reaches the more drunk friends... they are more than happy to ‘have a chat’ with the perpetrators.

#whump #writing #ideas #prompts #angst #panic attacks #tw: alcohol #tw: alcoholism #past alcoholism #sobriety #worry #fear #tw: emetophobia #tw: vomiting #spiking #relapse

[annastrxng]

had a vom.iting epis.ode yesterday in the car (just when we thought it was SAFE to remove all the buckets) and had to take a TRUCK load of nausea meds to hold myself together. Is working on replies as I have spoons for them.

#ooc #low spooning it- getting a cold- and then unstoppable nausea is just awful #sorry for the lower activity range. #tw: vomiting

[sortofanobsession]

One More Diaz (911 Buddie A/B/Ω AU WIP) Part 1

Author's Note: This WIP I started in January has grown into a monster! I had to break it up for editing purposes and posting. So this is part 1. Part 2 has a bit of work still that needs to be done, but I promised to get more of it posted and it has both preview parts in it, so I just decided to post it as a large chunk.

Tag Requests and Prompts are open.

Content warning: Male Alpha/ Male Omega pairing, mpreg, angst, vomiting, morning sickness.

Alpha Buck/Omega Eddie

Word Count: 4k+ (would be longer but posts have character limits I never realized)

Part 2

Eddie is panicking. His life was just getting back on track. He was finally back in a good place. He had his job. His relationship with his parents was okay. Christopher was thriving. And after nearly having to sit there and do nothing after Buck was struck by lightning. Eddie had finally made a move on the alpha. They had been together ever since. 

The emotional aftermath of that had led to a mind-blowing three day heat for the omega. Eddie had thought they had taken the necessary precautions. But precautions sometimes fail. They failed spectacularly based on the three tests that sat on the bathroom counter. Eddie had been feeling increasingly run down and nauseous. He had hoped it was something he'd caught on a call or maybe at Christopher’s school. But nope. The only thing he caught was himself on his alpha dick while heat sick and cock stupid. And damn was he stupid. He and Buck hadn't been together all that long. They had barely discussed how to handle work and a relationship. And Christopher. What would Christopher think? Eddie shook his head and shoved all the tests to the back of a drawer. He couldn't lose it now. He didn't have time to cry. He had a shift to get ready for. 

The omega gets butterflies as he walks into the firehouse and is met with the gorgeous blue eyes and thousand watt smile of his alpha. The father of his unborn pup. And that thought has Eddie's stomach twist and bile rising in his throat. He fights it back but it must show on his face because Buck’s smile is gone. The worried alpha now headed towards the locker room, knowing that was Eddie's first stop. 

The omega tries to focus on changing into his uniform as he opens his locker. He was begging his body not to betray him. Just give him a day or two so he can figure out how to tell Buck. They weren't even bonded. Did Buck even want a-

“Hey,” Buck's voice cuts through the omega's uneasy thoughts and grounds him. The alpha always had that effect on him. Everything seemed so much more bearable when Buck was around. “Take a breath,” the alpha says. Eddie realizes that he hadn't just been stuck in his head. He had been visibly tense and just standing there, hadn't even put his uniform shirt on yet. It was clenched in his balled fist. He feels Buck’s fingers carefully remove the shirt from his hand. “Breathe, Eddie.” Eddie takes a shuddering breath. And then another, until he has cleared his mind enough that the tension in his shoulders leaves. “That's good,” the alpha says with a grin. The grin only grows as the omega doesn't fight or argue as the alpha carefully dresses him. “You good?” Buck asks once Eddie is mostly dressed. And the omega seems mostly snapped out of it. 

Eddie opens his mouth to tell the alpha that he is fine now, that he appreciated his help, but right then Ravi approached them. Ravi must have been helping Bobby make breakfast for the crew because it clings to the younger man’s form and has the omega bolting for the nearest trash can. Setting off a series of events Eddie had desperately been avoiding. 

That was how Eddie found himself sitting in Bobby's office. Door closed so it was just him and the captain, much to Buck's dismay. 

Hen had swooped in, pulled medical rank, and kicked everyone else out of the locker room. She knew. Of course she knew. Hen always knew. But Eddie had been unbelievably grateful for that. She had offered to cover for him, but she told him it wouldn't take long for everyone to figure it out. Eddie might be good at hiding a lot of things, emotions, bruises, illegal activities, not that he does any of those any more. No. But this was something he wouldn't be able to hide long. His body was already making it known. Even his scent had started to change. 

“The longer you wait, the worse it will be, those sad blue eyes were your weakness before you were carrying his kid. You're in for it now,” she had told him. And the omega knew she was right. Just a glimpse of the worry in those blue eyes he so often got lost in when he'd looked back at him before the female beta kicked everyone out made his heart hurt. He was terrible at keeping things from Buck, even before they were together. 

The omega remembers where he is when Bobby sits down behind his desk with a sigh.

“How long have you known?” The captain asks. 

“Took three tests this morning,” Eddie admits. “But it'd been putting it off for a few days, but kind of obvious now.” The omega lets out a nervous laugh. He hadn't planned on telling anyone anything yet. “Haven't even called the doctor’s office yet.”

“You should get on that,” Bobby states. And Eddie could appreciate the fact his boss wasn't using his alpha or his captain tone. It was just a suggestion but Eddie was already planning on it. So he nods. 

“I know,” the omega sighs. He can tell his boss has a million questions but isn't sure what to say. “Yes, it's Buck’s. Yes, I'm going to tell him. No, I don't plan on doing anything stupid.”

That earns an amused chuckle from the alpha. “I figured,” Bobby says. “But you know what this means right?”

“Medic duty or desk duty?” Eddie asks. 

“You’re with Hen on the rig for now,” the captain states. “No fires, no dangerous rescues, no hero stuff.”

“That's always more of Buck's thing,” Eddie smiles. Earning another laugh from the captain. 

“You both live for the daring rescues, but-”

“Oh believe me, my boots are staying on the ground for a good long while. Just the idea of that stupid ladder makes my stomach twist.” The omega wasn't lying. The sway of the ladder even with the stabilizers out would probably have him losing his lunch at this rate. Hell, he'd probably lose it just watching Buck up there, especially after what had happened. 

“Just try not to push yourself too much, the first few months are always the worst for it.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” the omega sighs. 

Buck was waiting for him outside Bobby’s office. The captain just shook his head and grinned. Heading off to make something that the omega could hopefully keep down for breakfast. 

“Are you okay?” Buck asks. And his concern is written all over his face. The omega nods as he glances around. 

“There's something I need to tell you,” Eddie says before leading somewhere more private. The silent conference room.

The silence must be gnawing at the alpha because as soon as the door to the conference room shuts he asks. “What's going on, Eddie? You're not like…”

The omega holds his breath as he lets the alpha find whatever word he is searching for. 

“Sick, right? Like sick, sick. You'd have told me right? Because-”

And Eddie thinks it's adorable how Buck rambles when he's nervous. But Eddie might as well just rip the bandaid off on this one. Half the team already knew. 

“I'm pregnant,” he tells him. The blunt nature of the statement has the normally animated alpha stilling. It's painfully quiet for a beat.

“You’re…You are…we-”

“Yes, we,” Eddie gestures between himself and the alpha. “You're the only one I've been with since-”

“Since Ana,” Buck says, cringing slightly at the memory of the omega he has been in love with longer than he'd been willing to admit was with someone else. “Right, yeah, okay. So…”

“So it's yours,” Eddie clarifies.

“Mine,” the alpha repeats. And the omega gets nervous as it gets quiet again. The only noise is the sound of Eddie's fingers tapping on the table he stands beside. 

“You don't have to-” Eddie starts but is cut off by the alpha's lips crashing against his.

“So you're not upset?”

“Upset?” The alpha laughs. “Eddie, you just told me we are going to have a kid. This is amazing. I was worried you were like dying or something. Freaked me out. The idea of losing you-” 

It's Eddie's turn to silence his alpha. He can't help it.

“I love you,” Eddie says and he is glad he did because Buck looks even happier, if that was even possible with how excited he had seemed before. The alpha is hauling him into a kiss again.

“Love you too,” Buck says against Eddie's lips. And Eddie tries to push the alpha away because he had only rinsed his mouth out after the nausea got the best of him, but Buck didn't care. Not in the slightest. He’d do a lot more than kiss the omega if he could get away with it. He wanted to show his omega how happy he had made him. How happy his inner alpha was at the idea of Eddie carrying his pup. His imagination already took the idea and ran with it and it had a growl rumbling through his chest. And the shiver that runs through the omega has the alpha pinning him to the table. Their make out session is cut short by a knock on the door before it opens. An amused Hen leans on the door frame. 

“All right, lovebirds,” she says with a grin. “Cap says food is ready.” Eddie groans. “The vent fans are on and Ravi changed his shirt, with much complaining, so you should be fine. Also, next time, close the damn blinds.”

“Thanks, Hen,” Eddie says.

“Mmhmm,” she says with a wave as she leaves. 

Buck has not moved. Eddie sighs. 

“Buck…” he starts. The alpha kisses him one last time before he pulls away and stands up. 

“You need to eat,” Buck states. He holds his hand out to the omega and hauls him up. 

“Hopefully, I can keep it down,” Eddie grumbles.

“We’ll find you something,” Buck squeezes his hand as they head to the loft. 

They tell the team during breakfast since everyone had questions as to why Eddie was being taken off rescues. Everyone was excited for them. 

Buck insists on going home with Eddie. And the omega didn't mind. But it ended up Buck following him home. And it's oddly comforting and sweet to look through his rearview mirror to see his alpha. And it has warmth spreading through his chest. 

Christopher is thrilled as he always is when Buck follows Eddie in. Carla gives Eddie a knowing look. He follows her into the kitchen. 

“You tell him?” She asks Eddie when it is clear Christopher has Buck’s attention in the living room. 

“Yeah,” Eddie admits. She had been trying to get him to test since the first time she had picked Christopher up from school and the boy complained he was nearly late that day because Eddie overslept and seemed sick. The female omega had tried to gently nudge the anxious man to confirm what she already knew. 

“So it went well?” She asks. Before Eddie could answer Buck was planting a kiss on Eddie's cheek as he moved past him to grab Christopher a drink from the fridge. And just as fast as he came in, he leaves. 

“Told you he'd be all in,” she grins. 

“I know,” Eddie sighs. “We’re going to tell Christopher.” 

“He’s going to be so happy.”

“I hope so,” the nervous omega says. 

“He will,” Carla assures him. “Right, well since you're both here, I'm going to head out.”

Eddie looks over at his stove and he doesn't have it in him to cook. He leans heavily against the counter as he tries to figure out what to do. He must have taken too long in the kitchen after Carla left because Buck came looking for him.

“You okay?” the alpha asks as he makes his way over to his omega. 

“Yeah,” The omega nods and answers. “Just tired.”

Buck runs his hands up and down his omega's arms to soothe him. “Too tired to stick to the plan or…” The alpha smiles when Eddie leans against him. 

“Nah, he deserves to know,” Eddie says. 

“Why don't you go relax, I’ll order something to eat.” Buck says, he gives into his inner alpha and kisses the omega's temple. Earning a contented hum from Eddie. The tired omega shifts and buries his face in the alpha’s shoulder. 

“Dad?” Christopher calls. 

Eddie looks up quickly to see his son in the doorway. 

“Hey bud,” Eddie says. “What's up?” His son seems to eye him skeptical. It was silent for a moment. 

“Hey superman,” Buck says. “How's pizza sound?”

Christopher nods, “Unless dad’s not feeling-”

“I'm okay, bud,” Eddie is quick to assure him. “And pizza’s fine with me.”

“Are you sure?” Christopher still sounds unconvinced.

“Want to just do it now?” Buck whispers to Eddie. It sends an involuntary shiver through the omega. “Will probably make him worry less if he knows what's going on,” the alpha adds.

Eddie nods. He takes a deep breath. The fact that his senses are filled with the alpha's scent calms his nerves just a bit. Buck was there no matter how this went. They’d figure it out as a family, a pack. He turns towards Christopher. 

“There's something important we need to talk to you about, Christopher,” Eddie starts.

“If it's that you're dating, I kind of know that already,” Christopher says. 

That gets a huff of a laugh from the alpha. “That tracks.”

Eddie grins. “I know, Carla told me you figured that out already.”

“So, what is it?”

Eddie looks back at Buck and honestly, the alpha looks so excited he might lose it. “You tell him.” And the smile that takes over the alpha's face makes the hormonal omega's heart soar. 

“You're going to be a big brother, bud,” Buck tells Christopher. And the omega holds his breath as Christopher processes that information, looking between Buck and Eddie. 

“You're having a pup?” Christopher looks over at his dad. 

Eddie nods, “Is that okay?” 

Christopher huffs. “That's a stupid question.” But the smile on his face betrays him. “It's better than okay, it's awesome.” Buck laughs. 

Eddie sighs. 

“Had us going there for a second, kid,” Buck grins. He ruffles Christopher's hair. “Now go watch TV while I order food.”

“Okay, Buck,” Christopher says. 

“Well, that was…” Buck chuckles as he goes over and pulls Eddie against him. The way the omega stays against him like a puppet that had its strings cut makes him think that maybe the kid had his own suspicions and was teasing them a bit. “That kid is too smart for his own good.”

“Or ours,” Eddie mumbles as he buries his face in Buck's neck again. 

“True, but he's going to be an amazing big brother,” the alpha assures.

“Yeah, he will,” the omega can't help but picture it. A little pack all their own. Buck, Eddie, Christopher and a tiny little pup. It’s the first time he's really let himself believe it. And it brings tears of joy to his eyes. Tears that the alpha must feel because he is pulling back just enough to look at the omega. The smile and sweet scent of his happy partner is enough to remove any worry the alpha had in the moment. 

“Go relax,” the alpha insists. “I’ll be right there.”

After Dinner Eddie falls asleep watching a movie with Christopher. Buck takes the opportunity to check his phone. There are a handful of messages from Chimney begging him to tell Maddie because if he doesn't Chim might. And the alpha chuckles to himself. He tells Chim to relax. He’s meeting her for breakfast in the morning. 

Buck smiles as he greets his sister with a hug.

“You look happy,” the female beta grins as they sit down. 

“I am,” Buck tells her. 

“How's Eddie and Christopher?” 

“Christopher is good, just dropped him at school.”

“And your omega?” She teases. 

“He's probably still in bed,” Buck says. She gives him an amused look. “Morning sickness will do that.” 

“Evan…are you telling me,” Maddie rushes to ask. “You're having a pup? Evan Buckley! How am I just learning about this?”

“I just found out yesterday, the team did too because Eddie is having a hard time keeping anything down.”

“First few months can be rough,” she says. “But I'm sure you're already all over that.” 

“Yeah, Bobby's been a big help. Moved Eddie to the rig with Hen. Working on helping him figure out what he can eat.”

“I'm so excited for you guys.” The beta female smile and scent exudes comfort and familiarity that brings so much joy to the alpha.

“I'm just shocked Chim didn't spoil the surprise,” Buck chuckles to avoid the overwhelming onset of emotions. His life had gotten so.much better in a single day. And his sister seemed so proud of him. He loved them all so much. His pack. 

“It does explain why he avoided talking about you or Eddie. I thought maybe a ring, not a pup, but I'm excited now. Evan, you are going to be an amazing dad. You already are really. Christopher adores you.”

“Well, he's the best so that's easy,” Buck nods, but he had one question he was unsure about. “How do you think mom and dad will react?” the alpha asks.

“They’ll be happy if your guys are happy. They already love Christopher.”

“You think?”

“I know.” 

“We know, mijo,” Isabel Diaz says with a grin after he tells them the news. Tia Pepa laughs at the shocked look on the omega’s face.

“You’re not very subtle, Edmundo,” his aunt states. “You might want to call your mother before one of your cousins does.” His abuela quickly agrees. “Or one of your boys lets it slip.” 

Eddie’s parents were happy for him when he told them. They promise to visit soon. 

Over the next few weeks Buck manages to make arrangements for his apartment. His landlord agrees to let him out of the lease, it was a fight at first but the alpha agrees to pay the early termination fee with little argument. Eddie thought they could have done better but Buck just wanted it done. The team and Maddie had helped him move what he needed. Eddie complains the whole time since Buck won't let him do anything but supervise. The omega ends up making sure everything is sorted and labeled probably.

Buck moving in was almost too easy. He didn't need to keep much. He didn't have a whole lot he cared about. Most of his furniture had been picked by his ex. His sentimental items would easily find a home at Eddie's or stored away for use when they needed a bigger home. An inevitability that would probably happen sooner, rather than later. 

Buck had practically lived at Eddie's long before he moved in. He spent most of his free time there even before the pair got together. So Buck had long been familiar with the Diaz family routines. He knew where everything was and the trio were shockingly good at navigating the space without frustration. The opposite really. It made Eddie unbelievably happy. The omega’s heart soared at how easily at home his alpha was in his space. How Christopher had helped find homes for the Alpha's belongings among the cupboards, shelves and drawers throughout the house. At one point during the process Buck had pulled Eddie into his arms and the omega nearly cried at how right everything felt. It was like things made more sense the way they were now that Buck's photos were added to the tables and walls. 

Buck can't believe how right it feels every time he walks in the door to what is now their home. Going home to his omega and son always had a smile forming on the alpha's face and a warm feeling in his chest. He had always believed that the most important thing he could feel as an alpha was pride. That is what his dad and his coaches always said. Pride felt good. It might be important to most alphas, but it was nothing compared to what Buck felt now. Days like this made him feel bad for those pride focused alphas. Because nothing hit Buck harder or made him feel more alive than coming home to his pack, his family. He felt so much love the alpha thinks that life can't get better. He thinks that, but every time he finds out he is wrong in the best way possible. 

It was early and the house was quiet. It had been a long shift and it was worse when they worked different shifts. He had worked at the station before Eddie had joined the team, but it was different now. The two of them were partners. Partners in anything and everything even before they got together. Not having Eddie there was like someone had taken away half of what made him good at his job. The omega would argue Buck was always good at his job. He didn't need Eddie for that. But Buck was always better when Eddie was there. Bobby had reminded him he'd have to get used to it. Eddie could take up to a year off. Even if he knew it was for the best, Buck knew he wouldn't like it. Buck’s thoughts circle back to what started his mind on this track when after checking in on a sleeping Christopher he makes his way to the room he and Eddie share. And Buck has never felt anything like the sheer amount of love he feels when he sees Eddie. Eddie looks adorable, something Eddie will never admit he is, bundled in what is basically a nest of blankets and Buck’s clothes. He knew it was a thing omegas did, especially pregnant ones, but seeing it when it's your omega? It's beautiful. The alpha moves as silently as possible. Eddie was a light sleeper usually, and sometimes just the change of having Buck's fresh scent in the air was enough to wake him on bad nights when he came in. But the omega must be exhausted, or maybe just really comfy, to sleep this deep. Buck was glad he had showered at the station before he left. He quickly gets ready and carefully moves to join his omega. Which the alpha isn't surprised finally wakes his sleeping partner. 

“Just me,” Buck assures him and the effect is instantaneous. Eddie just hums as what little tension the disturbance caused vanishes. The omega reaches out to pull the alpha towards him. Buck chuckles at the way Eddie scents him once Buck is nestled in. The barely awake omega burying his face in his lover’s neck before quickly falling back asleep. Buck has no complaints. Eddie is tucked tight against him and they would stay that way for a few more hours. Then, begrudgingly, the alpha would have to let go so Eddie could get Christopher ready for school. At least Buck would know Eddie had a partial good night's rest. 

When Buck got up it was late morning. Christopher was already at school.

“Morning,” Eddie said when Buck walked into the kitchen. “How'd the shift go?” Eddie silently waited and watched with amusement as Buck shrugged and got a cup of coffee. “One of those mornings, huh?” Eddie grinned. 

He was answered by the alpha draining half the hot drink and then making his way over to where Eddie was leaned against the counter. The alpha buried his face in the omega neck. 

“That bad?” Eddie chuckles. The omega's fingers card through the taller man’s hair. 

“Shifts are too long,” Buck says, half mumbled in Eddie's shoulder and neck. Eddie smiles and nods. He gets that. Sometimes a shift could drag on even if it had plenty of calls to deal with. It was the downtime that got you. 

“Missed you too,” Eddie says. That has the alpha pulling back so he can probably kiss him. “Hungry?” Eddie asks when they pull apart and Buck goes for the rest of his caffeine fix. Eddie laughs at the nod and mumbled “yes, please,” and “starving”, from the alpha. Eddie might not be the best cook but he had made extra pancakes from a mix he and Chris, thanks to Carla, had long ago discovered could be made during his off days. The mix could be made in pancakes and frozen or just save them having to do it every day. Because they couldn't survive off cereal alone. Not when Chris was growing like a weed and Eddie worked a physically intense job. Occasionally, they'd do waffles or something special, but today had been a pancake day. So getting the alpha's ready was easy. 

Buck watched Eddie make the one meal the omega had confidence in making. The alpha could get used to mornings like this.

#tw: vomiting #tw: mpreg #tw: angst #tw: anxiety #alpha omega pairing #buddie fic #alpha buck buckley #omega eddie diaz

[schrijverr]

I Found Myself a Cheerleader 4

Chapter 4 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

In this chapter, Chrissy and Steve have a sleepover. During it, they open up about shitty parents, unhealthy habits around food and Steve has a nightmare. It makes them even closer as the year progresses. Meanwhile, Billy is getting more and more frustrated until he snaps and attacks Steve, who is saved by an unlikely hero.

On AO3.

Ships: eventual steddie and buckingham

Warnings: eating disorder, child abuse mention, period typical homophobia, nightmare, vomiting, bullying, f-slur, fighting

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4: The Sleepover

Ever since that Saturday, Chrissy has discovered how easily she can get out of the house and over to Steve’s under the guise of meeting up with people from cheer squad. So, their time together has increased significantly.

Steve is pretty sure Chrissy is his best friend right now.

Of course, they still mostly see each other at school, having practice each day. However, now Steve will drive her home after and they’ll stop by a park and talk for a little bit. And it’s not until two weeks later that Chrissy says: “We could have a sleep over. My mom will be going with my dad to this work party and she said she’d feel better if I’m not alone.”

In all honesty, Steve is kind of blown away that he is her first pick. He has never been anyone’s first pick without performing King Steve. He smiles at her and says: “Course, sounds fun.”

The bit of insecurity that lingered over Chrissy disappears as her face brightens. “Cool, then I’ll see you Saturday,” she says, before skipping over to the changing room.

Chrissy arrives on Saturday quite late, but grinning mischievously as he opens the door. “I stalled, so my mom wouldn’t wait to see, who opened the door. She thinks you’re a very nice christian girl, Stevie.”

“You’re a menace, Chris,” Steve shakes his head as he lets her in. He is excited to have a fun evening with his friend, but also unsure of how the night will go. He is also planning to bring up the food thing, though he doesn’t know how that will go.

She throws her bag in the hall and toes of her shoes. Then she dives into her bag as she says: “I have a copy of the Breakfast Club and you’re not allowed to protest.”

“Whatever you say,” Steve tells her with a fond grin, not having planned on protesting.

It says a lot about how close they’ve gotten that Chrissy moves through his house easily without having been there often. She rummages through all his cabinets in search for a glass and he watches her with amusement from the kitchen threshold.

However, the Harrington kitchen is quite big and they have a lot of cabinets with all sorts of tableware. So after watching her struggle for a bit Steve says: “You can also just ask, you know that, right, Chris?”

Chrissy pouts at him and says: “It’s not my fault that your house in confusing. Where do you keep glasses? I want some water.”

Steve opens a cabinet she hadn’t gotten to yet and fills it up with water, before handing it to her with a flourish: “My lady.”

“Thank you,” she grins, then moves to the living room where she attempts to figure out the TV system the Harringtons have.

Meanwhile Steve gets himself a glass of coke and goes to sit on the couch. He watches as Chrissy continues to press buttons until she figures it out, heart swelling with fondness. It’s nice to have a friend again, he hasn’t had a sleepover in ages.

The last time he watched a movie with someone like this was back when he was still trying to be King Steve. For a second he worries that she thinks this is a date, which he wouldn’t go for even if he were straight, because she is fifteen to his seventeen.

Right when he wonders that, she turns around and huffs: “Your TV is fucking stupid, Stevie. It is evil, I tell you.”

She is in a ratty shirt and her hair is up in an ugly bun. The way she’s complaining reads more like an annoying little sibling than anything else and he’s been on enough dates to know that her behavior isn’t very date-like.

He lets out a relieved breath, before smirking as he gets up, easily starting up the movie as Chrissy rolls her eyes and tells him he’s annoying.

However, she doesn’t complain further and crawls onto the couch, making herself comfortable as Steve starts up the movie and sits down next to her. When he does she flops over him. The move makes Steve smile and he relishes in the friendly contact.

By the time the end credits roll, they’re two vegetables on the couch. Steve is sure they can find something else to watch, but first: “What’s your preferred pizza topping?”

“What?” Chrissy asks, looking up from where she made herself at home in his lap.

“I’m gonna order pizza, what do you want?” Steve clarifies.

“Oh, uhm,” Chrissy says, looking wrong footed. “Not a big pizza fan,” she settles on after a moment.

“Chris,” Steve starts, unsure where to go from now, but knowing he has to say something. “You- you need to eat something. What you’re doing isn’t healthy.”

She straightens up, getting out of his lap as she practically shrinks into the other side of the couch. It rubs Steve wrong, the way she makes herself smaller. She tucks her hair behind her ear and says: “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t do this, Chris,” Steve says, brows pulling together, a lump in his throat.

“Let it go, Steve,” Chrissy shoots back and the use of his name hurts more than he’s willing to admit.

Still, he doesn’t let it affect him. He steels himself and shakes his head. “No. Just no. I’m not letting it go. You barely eat during lunch, you always refuse snacks. Fuck, you’re skin and bones, Chrissy. It shouldn’t be so easy to toss you in the air.”

“You don’t understand,” Chrissy is yelling now.

“Then make me understand,” Steve yells back. “Just fucking talk to me. Explain. Please.”

They’re both breathing heavily after their outbursts, just staring at each other. Neither of them are willing to break the look first, to give in. So, they stand there and wait to see who breaks first. Who will blink. Who will give in.

In the end Chrissy looks away first, her eyes boring holes into the ground as she hunches her shoulders. Quietly she says: “You don’t know what it’s like to live with her.”

“Who?” Steve asks softly, sitting down next to her gently, not yet touching. He doesn’t want her to stop talking.

“My mom,” Chrissy whispers. “She’s always on my case about what I’m eating. It’s suffocating. I’m not even allowed in the kitchen alone. And she’ll- she’ll like hem my clothes continuously, so they’re always too tight and it- it drives me wild. You can’t understand how that feels.”

“I do, though,” Steve tells her. “I get it. It fucking sucks, but you don’t have to listen to her. She’s being an asshole. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be healthy.”

“How the fuck can you know?” Chrissy snaps, her tone venomous. “Look at you. You’re doing perfectly fine. You’re not always getting yelled at, how the fuck can you know?”

“Chrissy, I’m literally being protected by the cheer team, because shit got so bad,” Steve frowns at her harsh words, his own slipping out. “My life also isn’t sunshine and rainbows.”

“Well, it’s not the same,” Chrissy tells him. “Your mother isn’t always breathing down your neck about every calorie. You can do whatever you want.”

The words hit a sore spot and Steve can’t stop the bitter laugh he lets out, something ugly twisting in his chest. “Yeah, I can do whatever I want,” he spits bitterly.

“Stevie?” Chrissy asks, his tone tipping her off that something changed.

“Seriously, Chris?” he says instead of answering her. “You think my parents fucking love me? They have been gone since January. January. I have been by myself for months. They don’t care. They’re off prancing through Europe or some shit, happy to forget me. All I’m good for here is playing their perfect fucking son. And I can’t even do that right.”

He gets off the couch, tears burning in his eyes as he starts pacing: “I’m a screw up. I had to quit basketball and if they ever find out that I did, I’m sure my father will kill me. Literally. He already thinks I’m pathetic. He gave up on me years ago. I am always by myself, having to keep up this charade to make them happy and it’s never enough.”

Steve turns to Chrissy, looking at her with imploring eyes as she sits on the couch without moving a muscle, waiting for the storm to be over.

“I know what a controlling mother is,” he tells her. “They’re never here, but when they are… Fuck, it’s like I can’t do anything right. The way I move is wrong, what I eat, how I eat- shit, some days I feel like I can’t even breathe right.”

“Stevie, I-” Chrissy starts.

“No,” he cuts her off. “I don’t want you to pity me, Chris. That’s not the point of this. I- I’m messing it all up. The point is that I get it. Parents suck. They’re the worst on the fucking planet and we’d be better of without them. I get it. But you can’t let them take everything from you. You deserve better than this, don’t you get it?”

He runs a hand through his hair and pinches the bridge of his nose. Then he turns around, waving his arms as he continues his speech. The words that have been built up inside him for so long finally pouring out.

“My parents would hate everything I do, if they ever found out, but that isn’t going to stop me. I like cheerleading. I like having friends. I like it. I don’t care what they think, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’m not going to let them force me to give up what I like. Because I fucking deserve better, okay? And so do you.”

Steve turns back to Chrissy, who is still on the couch, looking quite gobsmacked. He is about to ask what she’s thinking when she burst out into tears.

Panic rises in his chest as he rushes to her side, slinging an arm over her shoulder as he holds her gently. Softly he says: “Hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay. Please, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” Chrissy hiccups, wiping his face with the sleeve of her shirt.

“No need to be sorry,” Steve tells her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m so sorry, Chris.”

“It’s okay, idiot,” Chrissy says, bumping her shoulder against him. “I needed that. You’re right. And I am sorry about what I said about you being able to do what you want. Your parents sound like they suck.”

“They do,” Steve snorts. “For what it’s worth, it sounds like your mom sucks too.”

“She does,” Chrissy laughs. It’s still a bit wet sounding, but it’s better than the crying from earlier, so Steve takes the win.

Both of them fall quiet for a second, sitting on the couch in the living room, the credits of the Breakfast Club still rolling in the background.

“How did you do it?” Chrissy asks after a few seconds, breaking the silence that had fallen.

“Do what?”

“Stop caring.”

Steve is quiet as he thinks, then he slowly says: “It’s hard. I mean, I still care, but I try not to. It just takes time and effort. I have to remind myself constantly. And it’s easier to not care when they’re not here. But then they’ll call and I lie and pretend cheer practice is basketball practice and I pray that no one here reached out to them. They’ll tell me they’ll be away for a bit longer and it’s a relief, because I still care what they think and when they come back I’ll know.”

“So it all just sucks?” Chrissy asks.

“Yeah, kinda,” Steve laughs. “But you gotta keep trying anyway. Just start one day and try not to stop.”

“I can do that,” Chrissy says, determination bleeding into her posture.

“Hell yeah you can,” Steve agrees proudly. “So, pizza toppings?”

The question makes Chrissy laugh, before she admits: “I like pepperoni, but I- I can’t eat an entire pizza, Stevie.”

“We’ll share,” Steve offers with a smile. “I like pepperoni too.”

“Sounds good.”

Steve gets up and orders the pizza. He is glad it is finally out in the open. That Chrissy hasn’t shut him out or is mad at him. He hates it when his friends are mad at him.

Chrissy looks reluctant when the pizza arrives, but Steve doesn’t push. Some steps have to be made by yourself. Indeed determination swoops over her as she takes her first bite. Her eyes grow wide and she lets out a happy hum as she chews.

“Good?” Steve smiles.

“This is delicious,” Chrissy says, mouth still full.

Steve’s smile widens. “Good to hear.”

He puts on another movie that neither of them pay attention too. Chrissy only manages to eat three slices, but Steve is so proud of her. Making her blush as he tells her so.

With the pizza gone, the movie goes further ignored. Both of them end up lying on the floor, looking up at the popcorn ceiling. They’re talking about school, complaining about classes and homework, teachers that suck, weird stuff classmates did and mishaps from practice. Steve also talks a little about the kids.

When there’s a lull in conversation Chrissy suddenly asks: “Are you okay? No one bothering you at school or something?”

“What?” Steve asks, still not really used to someone looking out for him, especially someone like Chrissy, who is both younger than him and a girl.

“I don’t know, you’ve just been more fidgety the past week,” Chrissy says. “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Steve feels himself flushing. The reason he’s been more fidgety is because he’s been trying to avoid Eddie. He has come up to Steve once since their conversation. Steve was nice, but ended the conversation and tried not to look in Eddie’s way after. Something he has been less successful at than he’d want.

He just can’t help it, though. Eddie is magnetic and his eyes are naturally drawn to him. Steve likes watching his dramatic gestures and hypnotizing eyes.

However, Steve only wants to make it through this year unscathed. That means getting an even bigger crush on Eddie Munson is out of the question. Hell, associating with the other boy is out of the question. Especially now that it seems like Eddie wants something from him. Steve has enough trouble as it is.

Though, when he thinks about it, Eddie hasn’t approached since that first time when Steve kind of iced him out.

Of course, Steve has ensured that he is continuously surrounded by cheerleaders, a part of the student body Eddie avoids almost as religiously as the basketball team. So, it’s not like he has given Eddie the chance. Which is good. That was the point.

Still, Steve can admit he’s a bit disappointed at how easily he has shaken the boy. And the only reason he’s still fidgety is because he’s become quite paranoid after the Upside Down, so the few times he has caught Eddie’s eyes afterwards are enough to put him slightly on edge.

Not that he can tell Chrissy any of this. He wants to kid himself into believing she’d be cool with the whole gay thing, but he isn’t going to delude himself like that. Chrissy’s entire family is highly religious. The chances she’d be cool are very low.

So instead he says: “I’m okay. Nothing happened.”

“You sure?” Chrissy pushes.

“Sure,” he tells her with a smile.

“Alright,” Chrissy lets it go, much to his relief.

They stay up way too late, like you’re supposed to at a sleepover. Chrissy teaches Steve how to braid hair and Steve confides in her about the Farrah Fawcett spray, after which he swears her to secrecy. It’s fun and they’re still giggling as they brush their teeth,

Steve sets Chrissy up in a guest room near his, telling her where the bathroom is before leaving her there.

He knows they could share his bed, but he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable or make it seem like he’s pulling a move. He also doesn’t want to scare her in case he has a nightmare. They can get pretty bad, but it has been a while since he woke up screaming. He hopes his luck will hold through the night and he won’t wake Chrissy if he does have a nightmare.

Of course luck has never been in his favor and a few hours later he finds himself flying out of his bed, feeling disoriented.

A door opens behind him and he swirls around, his arms up in a fighting position as he tries to blink the world into focus. Sweat is cooling on his back, breath still catching in his lungs, as images of the demodogs surrounding him still flash in his mind’s eye.

“Stevie?” a voice asks him. One that doesn’t fit into the nightmare he had just woken up from.

Chrissy, his mind supplies.

Another blink and indeed there stands Chrissy in her pajamas, hand still clutching the door knob as she worries a lip between her teeth. She looks a bit scared, like she wants to reach out to him, but is afraid of the probably too intense look in his eyes and his fighting stance.

The anxiety slowly seeps away as a wave of nausea rolls through his body. He swallow thickly, before rushing to the en-suite bathroom, flicking on the light, before dropping to his knees and throwing up in the bowl.

There are footsteps behind him, then a small figure appears beside him. An equally small hand starts rubbing his back as he gags a few more times.

When no more puke comes out, Steve leans back against the wall. His head is bowed between his knees and he feels unable to face Chrissy. God, he feels fucking pathetic.

He feels Chrissy’s warmth against his side as she sits next to him. Both of them are quiet for a few seconds, then Chrissy asks: “You okay, Stevie?”

“Not really,” Steve confesses softly, not finding the energy to lie or come up with a reason.

“I’m sorry,” Chrissy says.

That gets Steve’s attention. He looks up at her in confusion. She looks earnest about it too and he doesn’t get it. “What are you sorry for?”

“After that day when Lisa forced you to eat, I- I should have guessed you weren’t fully okay either, especially not after that speech tonight,” she explains. “But I never asked. So, I’m sorry.”

Steve is overcome with incredible fondness for the girl next to him, who somehow cares about him in a way no one has.

“It’s okay, Chris,” he tells her, gently bumping against her. “I wouldn’t have told you if you asked anyway.”

“Why not?” Chrissy asks with an unhappy frown.

“Because it’s embarrassing,” Steve answers bluntly. “I mean, come on. I am nearly eighteen and I get nightmares that make me puke. That’s not exactly information I want out there.” He’s quiet for a second, then he softly adds: “I don’t like talking about it.”

Chrissy is silent as she thinks. Her face has lost the frown and she gives him a sympathetic smile as she says: “You don’t have to. But I’m glad I know. We’re here for each other, right?”

“Yeah, course,” Steve assures her, though mentally he thinks he is more there for her than vise versa. He is older, he’s already a protector. He’ll look out for her, to make sure nothing will get her. She doesn’t know half of what’s out there.

“And for the record,” Chrissy states, “I don’t think it’s embarrassing. Nightmares are the worst and you’re brave for going through them.”

He appreciates the sentiment so much and he knows that if he tries to say anything he voice might crack or tears may start to fall. So instead he throws an arm around her and pulls her close. The two of them just sitting on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.

They sit there for another fifteen minutes, before Chrissy asks: “Wanna go to bed again?”

“No, I’m probably gonna go downstairs, maybe do some homework or something,” Steve tells her honestly. “But you can go back to sleep again. I don’t want to keep you up.”

“I’m not going to let you wallow alone, you idiot,” she says, sounding offended that he would even think that. “Lets play a card game or something.”

“Chris…” Steve protests, but Chrissy doesn’t listen to him. Instead she gets up and pulls him along to his bed, plucking the deck of cards from where they lay forgotten on his desk.

Steve decides to just give in and let her do her thing. They argue a little about the rules, but in the end it doesn’t matter much. They play about two rounds, before exhaustion sets in again. Steve can’t remember which one of them falls asleep first.

After that night Chrissy and Steve are as thick as thieves, practically inseparable, both in school and after it.

Lisa is quite done with how they seem to make a game out of annoying the other, or how they’ll compete about stupid little stuff. But she tags along whenever she can, making sure Chrissy and Steve don’t accidentally kill each other by stunting without a back spotter.

Steve has also made it a habit to bring extra lunch to school, since Chrissy’s mom refuses to give her more food to bring. It isn’t perfect yet, but it’s comforting to see her eat during lunch period and there is a sense of pride that comes whenever she thanks him for it. Like he’s taking care of her, doing something right for once.

Chrissy meanwhile asks him every day if he slept okay, noting when the bags under his eyes get darker when he’s going through a rough patch.

She helps him hide most of it with some makeup that she brings to school and convinces her mom to let her sleep over that weekend. It’s nice to not wake up alone for a change.

In their months of friendship, Steve has never met Chrissy’s parents, not that Chrissy has met his either.

Quite honestly, he truly doesn’t want to either. Whenever Chrissy talks about her mother especially, he is reminded of his own parents, who still haven’t returned home. He doesn’t know what it says about him that he hopes they’ll stay away until he can go to college.

Still, he is quite well known by Chrissy’s mother, who is delighted that Chrissy has befriended a good christian girl named Stevie. Chrissy delights in telling him about their fictional adventures that she spun to her mother. It’s kind of funny, Steve has to admit.

In reality most of their afternoons are spend in cheer practice. Competitions are coming up again, so they’re perfecting their new routine. Molly is convinced they’ll win this time and her laser focus and enthusiasm is infectious.

Not all is perfect of course. He often has to clean his locker when it is vandalized again and he is tripped up whenever possible, not to mention all the insults that are slung in his face.

On top of that, he hasn’t had a single acceptance letter in the mail yet, which isn’t great for his anxiety and the only reason he thinks he even has a shot at graduating is because Sofia graciously offers her time to him. He has taken to buying her lunch as a thank you.

Outside of school he still drives the twerps around as well. They mostly want to go to the arcade, but he has also brought them to Hopper’s cabin a few times or picked them up the Wheeler’s house after DnD.

One weekend he even drove Max to a skating rink a few towns over and watched as she performed all sort of dizzying stunts on her board.

Dustin is still his main little guy and he will show up whenever he pleases and brighten Steve’s day, a fact he will never let him know. However, Max and Will are both quickly making it up there as well.

He and Will never talk about that connection in the kitchen, about what they share. Neither of them is willing to acknowledge it, but sometimes they share a look when something happens and that is enough for now.

Steve has for example figured out that Will has a crush on Mike, which he thinks is stupid. Sure, the kid is Will’s best friend, but he’s also a bit of an asshole. Granted that can also just be because he is thirteen years old and everyone is an asshole at thirteen, but Steve stands by it.

So, whenever he thinks Mike does something idiotic, he’ll look at Will with judge-y eyes and Will will pull a face as if to say that he knows, but that he can’t help it and there are good parts to Mike as well.

It’s fun.

He knows that Max doesn’t have it easy at home. He sees Billy on a warpath nearly every day in the halls of Hawkins High. He hasn’t gotten a date with a cheerleader in months now and Steve is just waiting for the day he’s going to snap.

So, Steve tries to get her out of the house and doing something fun as often as he can. They never acknowledge it, but he’s trying to be a better brother than Billy is. So far, he thinks he’s pretty successful all things considered.

His efforts aren’t as appreciated by Billy, who doesn’t show any interest in his step sister beyond tormenting her, yet will glare at Steve whenever they see each other out in public. Still, he hasn’t done too much since their encounter last November.

However, not all good things are meant to last and it comes to a boiling point in the week before spring break.

Steve is sitting in the cafeteria talking to Chrissy and Lisa when his eyes are drawn to some movement. He looks up to see Molly walking away with a huff and a little bit of a thunder cloud over her head.

He looks to see what got that reaction and sees Billy leaning against the wall with an annoyed look on his face. If Steve has to guess he’d been leaning over Molly moments before in an attempt to ask her out. Something that seems like it wasn’t a success.

Tommy is coming up to Billy, likely trying to placate his anger. He’s been Billy’s little lapdog since the fall and it still hurts a bit to see his old friend now hang around his primary bully.

Right as Tommy is doing that, Billy looks up and happens to meet Steve’s eyes. Billy’s eyes immediately narrow, probably thinking that Steve is getting some amusement out of his misfortune or something. So to try and negate the damage, Steve quickly looks away, but it is too late.

Billy straightens up and shrugs of Tommy’s hand as he starts to march towards Steve. His face looks like murder. It looks like that day at the Byers house. It looks like Steve is in deep shit.

Without being conscious of it, Steve gets to his feet. If he is going to be attacked, he’s not letting himself be trapped at the table of a cafeteria, ready like an animal for slaughter. Steve might have made it a habit to get beaten up, but at least he’ll do down swinging.

None of the girls have noticed the danger yet, so when he gets up Lisa asks: “Steve?” in a confused voice.

Before he gets the chance to explain, Billy is already on him. He has grabbed the front of Steve’s shirt and this time he won’t be able to wiggle out of it that easily. “You,” Billy seethes.

“What about me?” Steve shoots back, trying to look unaffected as he searches for a way to get out of this, or fight back.

“You fucking fag,” Billy rages. “You and your little pathetic protection squad. Can’t look even after yourself. Need the cheerleaders to do it.”

“Come on, man, no need to be jealous,” Steve smirks, oozing King Steve charisma. “Not my problem you suck at getting the ladies to like you.”

He knows it isn’t the smartest idea to poke the bear, so to speak. However, he hopes that he can keep some of his dignity throughout this ordeal, to not just fold like a straw. And he might as well take Billy down a peg if he is going to get his ass beat.

Billy doesn’t reply to his taunt, instead tightening his fists as he readies himself to punch.

“What?” Steve continues now that he has found a sore spot. “Nothing to say, Hargrove? You can’t get a date? So what. You’re going to beat me up over it? Like you tried to fight that twelve year old you didn’t like?”

They’ve gathered quite the audience now and Steve decides to fuck it. Billy is making his life miserable, he can choke on his own actions.

“Yeah, I remember that,” he says, projecting his voice so everyone can hear. “Real mature move that was. You might have beat my face in, but won’t change that your first target was a little kid, you pussy.”

Over Billy’s shoulder he can see Tommy looking conflicted, his eyes flicking between Billy and Steve, as if he’s unsure if he should step. Steve can’t care less. Tommy is an asshole and he hates him.

Meanwhile Billy is apparently pushed to the brink of insults he’ll take. He lets out a roar – Steve can’t describe it as anything else – and throws a punch. A hard one.

Steve recoils from the force and hopes he doesn’t get a concussion out of his. He vividly remembers the doctor’s visit after his last fight with Billy. He can’t go through that again, literally. He physically can’t. Well, he could, but it has a big chance of ending badly for him. Very badly.

So, he immediately start to struggle to get free, knowing from their last fight that he can’t let himself be pinned down, because Billy will ruthlessly rain down on him and this time, there is no Max to save him

He hunches into himself and starts walking towards Billy, both of them moving back again. But they hit Tommy, who picks Billy, supporting him and pushing until Billy can turn the tide again and start pushing Steve back.

Vaguely Steve is aware that there is screaming around them and that his nose is bleeding. However, he can’t concentrate on the chants and the chaos, as he desperately fumbles in the hope of prying Billy’s fingers loose from his shirt. He’s already asking himself if he can rip the fabric to get out, before Billy can make him loose his footing.

The answer is: he can’t.

Billy hits him again and he barely manages to duck out of the way so that the hit only slides alongside his face, hitting his ear.

Still, the punch is enough of a distraction that Billy manages to push him over, letting go of his shirt so that Steve can’t hold on to his arm to keep himself upright. So he goes down like a sack of flour, hitting the floor with a dull thud that travels up his arms.

He doesn’t allow himself time to reorient himself, already envisioning Billy pinning him down like he did before.

So, he’s already scrambling back when a dark blur fills his vision. For a second he fears that it’s one of Billy’s lackeys, but no pain comes. Instead the form stands over him in an almost protective manner.

Steve blinks a few times, there in front of him is Eddie Munson. He is holding both of Billy’s fists in his hands, holding him back from attacking again. He is smirking and not looking like it’s taking him much effort. However, Steve can see how his neck is straining, muscles likely bulging under his leather jacket.

“You know, the pulling on pigtails thing is so overdone,” Eddie informs him casually. “If you want to sleep with Stevie-boy here, there are better ways to go about it.”

“I’m not some fag,” Billy snarls as he pulls back as if burned. Then he directs his next words at Steve, who is still on the ground behind Eddie. “First girls, now your boyfriend? It’s pathetic how you hide behind others, Harrington.”

“At least I could get a date, if I wanted,” Steve shoots back, not letting Billy have the last word.

Billy moves to jump him again, but is stopped by Tommy. He pushes Tommy out of the way, but doesn’t start shit again and instead he stalks away.

With Billy gone the excitement dies down and people turn to their own things again. Chrissy and Lisa are at Steve’s side checking him over. Chrissy’s brow is pinched as she asks: “Should we get you to a nurse? Your nose is bleeding.”

“Yeah, you don’t look okay,” Lisa adds.

“Wow, thanks. You two really know how to make a man feel special” Steve jokes, attempting a smile even as his face throbs. “No, but I’m fine, really. It’s okay.”

“I think you should get that checked out, pretty boy,” a new voice cuts in.

Eddie has squatted down in front of him and is checking him over as well with those concerned Bambi eyes. That gaze makes Steve aware how messy he looks. Blood is soaking from his nose into his shirt and he is entirely rumpled. He is also still on the floor.

A blush creeps over his face and he tears his eyes away from Eddie as he huffs: “I didn’t need you protecting me. I had it handled.”

“You call that having it handled?” Eddie asks with a raised brow, like he’s having a hard time believing it.

“It’s better than last time,” Steve defends himself. “He smashed a plate over my head then.”

“What!” Chrissy shrieks.

“I was fine,” Steve assures her, already regretting letting that tidbit slip.

“That sounds bad,” Lisa frowns.

“I was fine,” Steve repeats. “I went to a hospital and everything. It’s all okay. Just like I’m okay now.” He glares at Eddie. “I was fine.”

Eddie faces his glare head on with an air of nonchalance that always hangs about him. “I’m sure you are, big boy,” he tells him. “It still won’t hurt to get a tissue for that.” He nods towards Steve’s still bleeding nose.

When Eddie doesn’t respond to his hostility, Steve switches tactics and asks: “Why did you even help me? You’ve only made yourself a target.”

“Nah, man. Not if Billy wants his drugs, I’m not,” Eddie grins. “Besides, whereas the basketball team looks after the popular kids, I look after the lost sheep. You’re one of the outcasts now, Stevie, that means you’re under my jurisdiction.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Steve protests, but he manages a smile. Eddie might want some mysterious thing from him, but he also looks out after his own. He had almost forgotten they shared something now.

“Well,” Eddie stands up again and claps his hands. “That was enough excitement for today, I think. See you around, Steve. Look after yourself.” He nods at Chrissy and Lisa. “My ladies.” Then walks back to his table.

“He is not like I expected him to be,” Chrissy whispers.

“Mean and scary?” Lisa asks.

“Yeah,” Chrissy nods.

“He’s a weird guy,” Steve says, unable to hide a bit of fondness that creeps in. He gets up from the floor and says: “Might be smart to get a tissue.”

“I’ll walk you to the nurse,” Chrissy offers.

“Yeah, and I’ll take your stuff our next class and explain why you’re late,” Lisa adds.

“Thanks,” Steve smiles.

He and Chrissy walk away. As they make their way to the nurse, she comments: “You and Eddie seemed to know each other.”

Steve hesitates for a second, then shrugs: “We talked once. He seems nice, but- I don’t know… We don’t really associate.”

“Alright,” Chrissy luckily seems to let it go. “Glad he was there. I was really scared.”

“I’m fine, I promise,” Steve says, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

~~

A/N:

Chrissy and Steve have parent issues, jock solidarity and u can’t change my mind, lmao

Also, disclaimer: I am not in any way, shape or form a good source on how do deal with someone you care about going through an eating disorder. Please do not take fanfic as a helpful source or guide to deal with such issues.

It’s hilarious in a sad way that I am going against the grain by giving Steve a little bit self worth rip

#rr writing #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #chrissy cunningham #billy hargrove #cheerleader steve harrington au #steve harrington & chrissy cunningham #buckingham #tw: eating disorder #tw: child abuse #tw: bullying #tw: f slur #tw: fighting #tw: period typical homophobia #tw: nightmares #tw: vomiting

[dontfeeltoohot]

Sicktember Day 24 - I Need You To Pull Over - N/A - Canon Divergent TW: Vomiting, non descriptive

Fifteen minutes into Steve driving the RV, Eddie starts feeling sick. It’s the same sick feeling he gets when Wayne drives them somewhere. His stomach gets uncomfortable, he gets nauseous and dizzy, sometimes gets anxious or annoyed. He’s still scrunched up in the seat behind Steve’s, watching out the rear window in the back of the RV, trees flying by. 

Swallowing thickly, Eddie’s head continues to spin, even when he shuts his eyes and tries to take breaths to calm himself. It’s not working in the slightest. Four minutes later, the musician is moving forward slightly, so he can see Steve and Nancy. They seem to be in a deep conversation, but then he decides he doesn’t care. He’d rather not hurl in the middle of the RV with everyone else around. 

“Hey Steve? Can we pull over?” 

Either the two don’t hear or they’re ignoring him. Whichever it might be, Eddie shifts again, this time somehow making it up close so he can lean into the other two. 

“Steve, I really need you to pull over.” 

“What? Why? We’re almost th-“ 

“Steve! I’m serious, please,” his voice rasps, and both Nancy and Steve frown. 

“Okay man, hold on.” 

Much to everyone’s protest, Steve pulls over to the side of the road, where Eddie yanks opens the RV door as quickly as possible. A moment later, everyone can hear Eddie gagging and retching. 

“Damn Steve, you suck at driving,” Dustin tries to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t quite land the joke, not when his voice is full of worry.

They all talk amongst themselves a moment, the three older teens trying to figure out what they should do. 

“Maybe he’s sick?” 

“He could have eaten something bad at that old shack.” 

“I’m fine,” Eddie grumps as he gets back in. 

His face is pale and his eyes are moving unnaturally. He’s got his leather jacket off now, showing just how slender he is. 

“Dude, are you okay? Your eyes are freaking me out,” Steve stares at him. 

“Nngh, fine. I get car sick, something to do with things moving too fast for my brain to process or some shit. Mind if I sit up here too? It helps being able to look out the main window.” 

“Of course,” Nancy moves, looking worried. 

“I’m not gonna break guys. Brains just wired differently I guess.” 

They’re back on the road forty seconds later, Steve looking over every once in a while when Eddie shifts uncomfortably. 

“Lemme know if you need to stop again, okay?” 

“I will Harrington, trust me.”

#my fic #sicktember22 #st #sh #em #nw #rb #tw: emetophobia #tw: vomiting

[russilton]

Funny how having a partner has made me go from “I hope that’s not food poisoning” to “I hope it’s only food poisoning so at least she’s not sick too”

#posts brought to you by sick mark #I am not feeling cash money #but she hasn’t woken up to hurl so #positive signs #personal #mark rambles #tw: vomiting