bellysoupset - Tumblr blog

bellysoupset · 2 hours

Note

Word!! I'm sorry, I know I'm not caught up in the Ollie concussion fic, I promise I'm gonna get to that this weekend 🙈 your most recent post gave me a plot bunny tho... How about hurt Aiden with caretaker Spirit? As in he gets beaten up on duty and Spirit is FURIOUS but also having to be gentle bc his ribs are hurt and he's a little concussed?

Other ask:

Can we have more of Aiden? I loved him in the 3 fics there is about him and I am obsessed 😍😂 ~🌼

Combining the results of the Spirit&Aiden poll with this amazing ask. I couldn’t help myself🤭. Thanks for this awesome idea Soup, and thanks for the initial ask 🌼anon!

Also, adding a lil twist to the end of this one👀

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

One thing that genuinely surprised Aiden was that Spirit always texted him back fairly quickly. He loved that. She never texted first, but he didn’t mind that fact.

“So, who is it?”

Aiden almost jumped as Mikey—the officer who was mentoring him—came up beside him. Aiden went three shades paler and fumbled to put his phone in his pocket. He wasn’t supposed to be on it while on security duty at the mall.

Mikey laughed at his panic. “Y’know, you’re lucky you got stuck with me, kid. If you’d been put with Bryan or Adamson, then you would’ve been chewed out for texting whoever it is that’s making you smile like a moron.”

Aiden flushed, looking straight ahead and focusing on being alert. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Mikey shrugged. “It’s fine, kid.” Mikey was only in his early thirties, though he liked to try and convince people that he was still 27. He was funny and chill and good at his job, so Aiden really was glad that he got to work with this guy while on duty.

“Our rotation ends in ten minutes, kid. Thank God. Do me a favor and go get us a couple of coffees once we’re done here.”

Aiden smiled. “Yes, sir.”

It seemed like it would be another easy day. Aiden was glad and couldn’t wait for his shift to be over. He was planning to surprise Spirit at the music store where she worked in the mall so he could finally ask her out on a second date. He felt that he’d waited long enough.

Suddenly, there was shouting and a series of screams. Aiden’s head snapped towards the commotion, and Mikey took off running. Aiden followed.

At the mall’s technology store, there was a group of about six guys. About four had ski-masks, and the other two had regular face masks. All of them had bats and were breaking shelves, yelling at people, and grabbing phones and cameras and whatever else they could shove into a few large duffle bags.

Crud, Aiden thought, his hand going to his baton (he really wished he could have a taser already).

“Drop the stuff and put your hands in the air!” Mikey screamed, all chillness gone from his voice. He held up his taser, pointing it at the thieves.

Aiden clicked his walkie talkie. “This is Clark. Reece and I need backup at the Tech Shop. We’ve got six robbers here. I repeat, we need backup.”

Clearly, none of the guys were listening to Mikey. One of them even raised his bat and began to charge at him, but Mikey tased him.

Everything began to happen too fast. In a flash, suddenly a brawl had broken out, and Aiden was throwing punches as well before he realized it.

He grunted as he got struck multiple times in the ribs and gut. He could hear announcements on the mall’s speakers, notifying people of the robbery.

Adrenaline was pumping through Aiden as he fought back. A few guys managed to slip out though and ran for it. Aiden got one of them on the ground and was trying to get cuffs on him, but then received a swift kick to the head from one of the others. “C’mon, Zeke!” one of them yelled.

The force knocked Aiden to the side and had the world going fuzzy, his ears ringing, and both of the thieves got away.

The last things Aiden Saw before the world went dark was Mikey securing cuffs on one of the guys before walking over to him.

— — —

The music store closed as soon as word of the fight spread to all the businesses. People were being asked to quickly pay and leave, and employees were getting asked to go as soon as all the costumers were gone.

Spirit—aside from her annoying boss—was the last music store employee to leave. The mall was almost entirely cleared out by then.

Apparently, from what she heard, there was a robbery at a store not far from the music store. She was too busy dealing with an annoying Karen to even notice the commotion.

As Spirit was leaving the building, she saw an open ambulance and saw someone being wheeled on a stretcher towards it. At first, Spirit only noticed his uniform and just thought that he was one of the security guards who got caught up in the whole thing. Then, suddenly, she noticed and recognized his face. Even without his glasses and all of the bloodied bruises.

Aiden.

Spirit’s eyes widened and her stomach dropped. Without realizing it, she was making her way over towards the paramedics. “Aiden,” she called, worried and a bit scared. Spirit hated that feeling.

One of a few officers stopped her before she could get closer. “Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to stay back.”

Spirit frowned, brows creasing. “Is he okay? Did the robbers do that to him?”

The officer seemed annoyed. “Miss, this doesn’t concern you. Please just—”

Spirit scoffed and was about to retort something—probably something with a lot of angry curse words—when another cop came up to them.

“What’s going on over here?” the other cop asked. He also looked quite beaten up.

“I just want to know if Aiden’s okay,” Spirit said in a hard tone, heart racing.

The other cop raised a brow. “You know the kid?”

“Yes, he’s my—” Spirit froze for a second, her mind trying to come up with a word to describe what Aiden was to her. “—my friend.”

The other cop seemed to be much more understanding than the other. “Aiden’s in pretty rough shape. I’ll give you a ride to the hospital, if you’d like.”

The first cop seemed annoyed that this other guy had taken over the situation.

Spirit found herself nodding. “Yes, please.”

The officer led her to his police car. On the drive over, Spirit found out that this officer was named Mikey Reece, and he was Aiden’s mentor. Aiden had mentioned this guy to her once or twice in their texting conversations.

At the hospital, Spirit and Mikey had to wait for news on Aiden while tests were run. A few other officers came to ask Mikey some questions, and Spirit bounced her leg anxiously as she waited.

This whole situation gave her an uneasy feeling. She overheard a few things that Mikey was saying to the officers: six of them. . . bats. . . black face masks. None of that made Spirit super suspicious until she heard him ask what the name of the one he arrested was, and one of the other officers answered, “Jeremy Hernandez.” That name had Spirit wondering something.

Eventually, a doctor came out and explained that Aiden was slightly concussed and had a few fractured ribs. But aside from that, a small fever and a bit of bruises, he was fine. Awake and responsive.

The officers went into the room first to talk to Aiden and write a report. Then, after that, Mikey wanted to go in but had a higher ranked officer telling him to get himself checked out for injuries. So, Spirit went in to see Aiden alone.

Aiden was sitting up in his bed, bandaged and with some of the blood cleaned up. When he saw Spirit enter the room, he looked genuinely shocked. “What’re you doing here?”

She shrugged, looking serious. Stone cold, even. For some reason, thinking that someone had put Aiden in a hospital had her blood boiling. “Long story,” she said.

Aiden’s surprised look melted a bit and he smiled. “I think I should join your boxing classes. I’m not that great at fighting just yet.”

His comment was laced with a bit of humor, but Spirit remained grim. “Do you know who it was? The robbers?”

Aiden’s smile faltered a bit. “Not really. One of the guys was named. . . Zeke, I think? I don’t know. He could be anyone. They all had masks on, so no facial details.”

Spirit felt her whole body run cold even as she still felt hot with anger. “This guy named Zeke. . . did he have dyed hair? Kinda longish?”

Aiden’s brows creased. “What? Why do you—”

“Just answer the question.”

Aiden worked his jaw, seeming a bit confused and unsure as he nodded. “Yeah dark purple hair. But why—?”

“I’ll be back later,” Spirit stated, her voice low as she turned to walk out the door. She froze before she got to it, turning and going over to Aiden. Before he even comprehended what was happening, she hugged him, being gentle and not putting any weight on him since his ribs were fractured.

Aiden felt his whole body become warm and he melted in the hug a bit, getting butterflies in his stomach. She'd never hugged him before. He decided right then that he really liked her hugs.

Spirit pulled away and looked him in the eye. “I’ll be back later. Or, I might just text later. It depends on how pretty my face will still be in the next few hours.”

Aiden raised a brow, once again seeming confused. Spirit left before he could ask her what she meant.

— — —

Spirit hated her old neighborhood.

The air there reeked of cigarettes and cheap alcohol. There was always someone yelling in their house or at a neighbor, cats knocked over trash cans, and some of the worst people Spirit had ever met lived there.

Spirit went up to a house that she often avoided while growing up. The old man that used to live in it had died when Spirit was a Senior in high school, but the guy’s nephew—and Spirit’s old classmate—still lived there.

Zeke Danes opened the door, a lit cigar in his mouth and looking drunk. He had a black eye and a few other bruises that looked fresh.

Spirit scowled, and Zeke’s eyes widened and he grinned as he recognized her.

“Holy shit. Spirit Mitchel, as I live and breathe.” He took out his cigar, blowing smoke on her face. “To what do I owe this pleasure, hot-stuff.”

Spirit could hear other voices inside, laughing and talking. “Having a party?” Spirit asked, her hands forming into fists in her pockets.

Zeke shrugged, still smiling. “Kinda.” He ran a hand through his long purple hair.

“Let me guess,” Spirit said. “Henry, Javon, Mike, and Freddie?”

“Yeah,” Zeke nodded. “Just my buddies.”

“But Jeremy isn’t here.” The way she said it had Zeke’s smirk falling.

“What do you want, Spirit?” he asked, opening the door all the way so Spirit could see her other old classmates and neighbors scattered inside Zeke’s filthy living room. They had music playing that was suddenly turned down, and all of the guys in there were looking at Spirit curiously and suspiciously.

Spirit stood a bit straighter. She was just as tall as Zeke was, so she could look him directly in the eye. “You robbed a store at the mall today, didn’t you?”

They all snickered a bit.

“So what?” Freddie called from inside, and Spirit noticed that he had gotten more tattoos since she last saw him. “You gonna snitch?”

Spirit wasn’t going to snitch. After all, the saying was very much true: Snitches really didget stitches.

“You beat up a cop,” Spirit said. “The one our age. You got him pretty good.”

Zeke took another puff of his cigarette. “Get to the point, hot-stuff.”

“He’s my friend,” Spirit stated. “You hurt my friend, and now he’s in the hospital.”

All of the guys were silent for a second before laughing.

“Since when do you become friends with police, woman,” Javon laughed. “People like us don’ go around becoming buddy-buddy with cops.”

“Well, I’m not like you,” Spirit spat.

“Oh, but you are,” Zeke said, leaning closer and blowing more smoke on her face. “You’re just like us. You used to fight for extra money behind the school, remember? And we’ve all run from cops together before, baby. Ringing a bell?”

Spirit bared her teeth as her scowl deepened. “Keep your pants on, Zeke. And don’t you dare call me ‘baby’. And I stopped running around with you morons after tenth grade, so quit grouping me in with you guys.”

Zeke chuckled a bit, leaning back against the door frame. “So, did you just come here to pitch a little hissy-fit over us hurting your friend? A little pathetic, don’t you think?”

Spirit nodded. “If I was here just to pitch a fit, that would be pathetic.” Swiftly, she raised her leg and kneed Zeke in his groin, making him gasp and stumble back, doubling over and protectively cupping his throbbing manhood. “It’s a good thing I’m not pathetic.”

Zeke spat his cigarette out of his mouth, glaring at Spirit with tears in the corner of his eyes. “You bitch.”

The other four guys all got up, now looking annoyed.

Spirit cracked her neck and raised her fists.

Looked like she was just going to text Aiden tonight.

#i'm completely and utterly in love with spirit/aiden #they're such an it couple #spirit girl WHAT ARE U DOING #jesus #i need the part 2 like i need air Word!!!#aiden is also such a cootie patootie #like ACAB but he's a darling

7 notes · View notes

bellysoupset · 10 hours

Text

Concussed Oliver (part 2)

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

The air in the waiting room felt tense.

Keiko was there before the girls had even gotten Oliver there. About twenty minutes after that, Jordan had the mind to call Isaac and tell him what had happened. The blonde was there in a flash, looking distraught.

None of them were saying anything. Eliana had an arm around Jordan’s shoulders, her lips pressed to the black-haired girl’s temple. Birdie had no fidget toy, so she’d started cracking her neck and picking at the skin on her hands to the point where she’d broke skin and was bleeding a bit, and Spirit had to find a pen for Birdie to click so she’s stop picking her hands.

Keiko was holding Amberlynn’s hand while Amberlynn just stared off at nothing. And Isaac just wouldn’t stop bouncing his foot while his heart raced.

“Oliver Brown?” a doctor said, coming into the waiting room. Eagerly, all of them stood and looked at the man.

“He’s fine,” the doctor said, and all of them sagged in relief. “Tests prove that it’s a mild concussion. He’s resting now. Have you contacted his family?”

“I called his parents,” Keiko answered. “They didn’t pick up, but I left voicemails and texts.”

“Can we see him?” Isaac asked, a bit of impatience in his voice.

The doctor opened a small sympathetic smile. “I can take you to his room now.”

— — —

There was a weird smell in the air when Oliver woke up. It smelled like bleach, and Oliver hated that scent. It just wasn’t pleasant.

There was a pulsing pain in his head, but not as bad as he remembered it being earlier. Still, his head felt like it was spinning.

When he squinted his eyes open a bit, getting the world into focus, Oliver first noticed that the room was dim but not pitch black. He then noticed that he wasn’t alone.

There was a small sofa in the corner of his room, and a chair beside it. Amberlynn and Keiko were curled up on the chair, and somehow, Eliana, Jordan and Birdie were all squished together on the couch. All of them were sleeping.

Spirit was sitting on the floor, on her phone. And Isaac was on a wheely chair by his bedside, asleep with his arms and head on the bed and holding Oliver’s hand in his.

Blinking a few times, he squeezed Isaac’s hand a bit. The little pressure made the blonde stir and lift his head a bit, blinking sleepily before he realized Oliver was looking at him. Suddenly, the blonde’s eyes widened and he whispered, “Olive?”

Oliver squeezed his hand again, smiling tiredly a bit. “Hi,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse and sore.

Isaac smiled back, looking relieved, and squeezed Oliver’s hand back.

“Hey, Oliver,” Spirit said from where she was sitting, having heard Isaac and Oliver whispering and realizing he was awake. She stood from where she was sitting and went to the opposite side of the bed from where Isaac was. “You gave us quite the goddamn scare.”

Oliver’s smile faltered slightly. “I’m sor—”

He was cut off by Spirit hugging him.

“How long was I out?” Oliver asked when Spirit pulled away, looking between her and the blonde.

“Since, like, five-thirty in the morning,” Spirit said with a shrug. "It’s almost 1pm. That’s why everyone’s asleep.”

“How the hell did you bump your head?” Isaac asked, shaking his head. “You guys were having a sleepover, and none of the girls knew how you rattled your damn brain. So, what happened?”

Oliver said nothing for a second. Then, his cheeks turned five shades redder, looking embarrassed. “I. . . I was dancing to the music that was playing while I took my shower, and I slipped and hit my head on the wall. I didn’t say anything ‘cause. . . yeah.”

Spirit raised a brow. “You were embarrassed about that? Oliver, Isaac is the moron who stood on a cafeteria table in middle school and screamed ‘food fight’, only to get no reaction from anyone. Slipping in the shower is nowhere near as embarrassing as that.”

Isaac shot a glare at Spirit. “Are you ever gonna let that go?”

“Never.”

Oliver chuckled a bit, only to wince when the bit of laughter made his head throb a bit.

“I’ll go find your parents and tell them you’re awake,” Spirit said to Oliver, and the boy’s eyes widened.

“My parents are here?!Why?!”

Isaac scoffed. “Because you busted your head. Duh.”

Spirit squeezed Oliver’s shoulder before walking to the door and leaving. With everyone else in the room still sleeping, it really felt like it was just Oliver and Isaac.

“You feeling alright right now?” Isaac asked. He was still holding Oliver’s hand.

“Yeah,” Oliver sighed, sinking back against his pillow. “My head hurts like hell and I’m wearing a paper gown instead of pants, but I’m fine.”

Isaac wheeled his chair to the side a bit so he was closer to Oliver’s head. Still holding Oliver’s hand with one hand, Isaac used his other to brush Oliver’s hair away from his face. He chuckled, looking at the wall. “Dancing in the shower,” he chuckled. “You’re in the hospital because you danced in the fucking shower!” Isaac began to laugh quietly, shoulders shaking.

Oliver flushed a bit, still slightly embarrassed, but then he also began to laugh quietly.

When their little quiet fit of laughter was over, Isaac squeezed Oliver’s hand again. “Next time, maybe take a bath,” he whispered.

Oliver squeezed back. “Yeah, I think I will. I don’t wanna ruin another sleepover by having to be driven to the hospital in the middle of the night.”

Isaac’s humorous look became slightly softer, and he bent down, hugging Oliver and not letting go. “I’m happy you’re fine.”

Oliver sighed, pressing his temple to Isaac’s. Then he chuckled and whispered, “Hell yeah, I’m fine. There’s no way dancing to fucking Grouplove was gonna be how I go out.”

#soooo fluffy #i loved the little details #bird's fidgeting and her picking on her skin #isaac sitting closest to oliver's #the little Olive slipping out #Spirit never ever sleeps #lmao i'm just imagining aiden being all doesnt this girl sleep??#ajfksd isaac's cafeteria food #freaking mortifying

10 notes · View notes

bellysoupset · 11 hours

Note

Can I please request a concussion story. A bad concussion and a character that just refuses to go to the hospital even though they feel and are soooo sick:)

This took a lil longer than I thought it would🥲.

!emeto warning!

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

“Who brought chips?” Eliana asked, shouting so everyone who was scattered around Jordan’s apartment could hear.

“Not me,” Birdie said from across Jordan’s huge living room. “I brought the cookies.”

“I brought the charcuterie board,” Amberlynn shouted from Jordan’s guest room where she was collecting all the pillows and blankets she could. “I brought facemasks, too, by the way.”

“I think Oliver’s bringing chips,” Jordan said, hugging El from behind and kissing her cheek. “But if he’s not, we’re screwed.”

Spirit was in the kitchen, music blaring on her headphones and chopping tomatoes and basil. She was the only one who hadn’t brought anything since they’d all agreed to put her in charge of cooking. The apartment smelled incredible, filled with the scent of the five small pizzas she was making, one for each of them. Except one for Birdie who hated pizza, and Spirit was making pasta for her.

Amberlynn came out of the guest bedroom, carrying a mountain of pillows and blankets to the couch that she couldn’t even see. She was going in the wrong direction, towards the kitchen, and Birdie laughed as she helped to guide the poor girl.

Suddenly, the front door opened and Oliver came in, a few grocery bags in hand. “Hey,” he said, smiling as he went to the kitchen with the bags.

“Did you bring chips?” Eliana asked, walking over to her phone on the coffee table so she could put on some music.

“Yeah,” Oliver answered.

Eliana let out a dramatic sigh, loudly groaning, “Thank God!”

Oliver chuckled. “I’ve got Salt & Vinegar, Cheetos, kettle chips, Doritos, and tortilla chips with salsa.”

Spirit, for the first time since she started cooking, lifted one of her headphones to focus on Oliver. “You brought salsa?” she asked, and Birdie cackled because of all things, it was salsa that got Spirit’s attention.

All the chips were put into bowls, the salsa in a little dip dish, the cookies on a plate, and all of the stuff was put on Jordan’s coffee table along with the charcuterie board. Spirit took the pizzas out of the oven to cool, and the fun began.

Jordan had a hoard of boardgames—they were kind of an obsession of hers—and they played one after the other. Jordan won Monopoly. Spirit won Trouble. The game UNO became intense, and Amberlynn won that one. As for Birdie, she won everything else—Clue, Connect 4, Guess Who, etc…

Oliver and Eliana won nothing, but Eliana was fine with that since she was having fun styling and un-styling her girlfriend’s hair over and over, and Oliver was enjoying himself too much to care about winning or losing.

When they ate the pizzas that Spirit made—and Birdie ate her pasta—they put on The Devil Wears Prada and watched that until the movie ended around midnight.

Facemasks came after that, and all six of them took selfies in the bathroom mirror.

For over an hour, they all just talked about whatever they could think of. Spirit ate more than half of the tortilla chips with salsa—mainly because it was the hot kind of salsa and not the mild kind—and Amberlynn suggested that they should make hot chocolate, even though she ate the most out of all of them.

By two in the morning, Jordan had literally fallen asleep on the living room rug, and instead of waking her up to move her, Eliana just threw a blanket on top of the girl.

“Can I shower first?” Oliver asked, holding his PJs that he’d quickly gotten from his car.

“Go ahead,” Eliana said, focused on painting an elaborate starry design on Amberlynn’s nails.

“Fine with me,” Spirit said, watching Demon Slayer on her phone while Birdie began to also doze off with her head on Spirit’s lap.

Oliver went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel from a closet on his way there.

The music in the living room was still playing. He was quietly singing along to Light Switch by Charlie Puth—the song currently playing—as he stepped into the shower. Jordan had a habit of taking all of the tiny shampoos, conditioners and mini-soaps from hotels, so Oliver was using some of those.

The song in the living room changed, and suddenly TongueTied by Grouplove was playing, and Oliver couldn’t help but bounce on his heels a bit to the beat of the song while mouthing along to the lyrics.

He quickly regretted that decision when, suddenly, he slipped because of the soapy water and fell back, too quick for him to even react. He didn’t even yelp, but he did grunt when his head hit the wall, hard.

He opened his eyes, blinking heavily, and then closed them again. After five minutes or so, he opened them again, confused for a second. There was a ringing in his ears, and he felt dizzy.

He sat up, groaning and planting a hand on the back of his head, massaging the sore spot there. The hot water still rushing over him made the spot sting a bit.

He stayed sitting for a second before he felt steady enough to stand and get out of the shower. He got in his PJs, and left the bathroom, the back of his head still throbbing.

No one mentioned hearing any kind of thud from the bathroom, and Oliver realized they must not have heard it with the music still playing, and he was thankful because he honestly felt a little embarrassed about it.

Birdie was zonked out on the couch, so Spirit showered next. Then El, and then Amber.

Later, Eliana and Amberlynn were playing a round of Connect 4 by themselves, and Spirit was still watching anime when Oliver suddenly felt really exhausted.

He grabbed one of the many pillows and blankets, curled up on a sofa chair, and fell asleep.

— — —

At four in the morning, Oliver woke up with his head pounding. Not just hurting like a headache, but absolutely throbbing!

He groaned, pressing a hand to his temple as he blinked dizzily, trying to remember where he was. Suddenly, he noticed that in the dark room, Spirit was still awake on the couch, on her phone with her headphones on. Everyone else was asleep now.

Oliver uncurled, on the sofa chair, resting his elbows on his knees and clutching his head in his hands. He could feel saliva pooling in his mouth. The floor was swaying beneath him—

“Oliver?”

The voice was too loud.

“You okay?” Spirit asked, her voice actually pretty quiet since everyone else was asleep.

Oliver looked up at her tiredly. “I’m fine,” he whispered, yawning and then wincing when that caused a spike of pain in his head. Then he asked her, “Why’re you still awake?”

She stayed quiet, saying nothing for a minute before shrugging and saying, “Not tired.”

Oliver was in too much pain to notice if there was something off about Spirit’s answer.

Dizzily, he halfheartedly mumbled something about going to the bathroom and stood, only to immediately sway on his feet and almost fall back down. His head felt detached from his body and all too heavy at the same time. . . if that made any sense at all?

Spirit noticed his slight stumble and looked up from her phone, taking out her headphones. She watched as Oliver stumbled weirdly over to the bathroom. But maybe he was just still half-asleep?

Spirit was about to put her headphones back on when she heard Oliver let out a pained yell that startled her. “Oliver?” she asked, her alarmed voice loud enough to have the others stir and to have Birdie groan and blink awake.

Birdie rubbed her eyes and mumbled, “Spirit, why’re you awake?”

Spirit didn’t answer, standing and all but jogging over to the bathroom. The door was open, the light was on, and Oliver wasn’t even all the way inside, curled up on his knees in the doorway with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands clutching his head, fingers pulling at his hair.

“Shit,” Spirit cursed, crouching beside him and putting a hand on his back. “Oliver, what’s wrong?” She wasn’t whispering, and the loudness of her voice caused Oliver to whimper and making his face screw with pain. Tears even began to roll from his eyes, and Spirit had no idea what to do.

Just as she was about to go wake up the others, Oliver gagged, and the force was enough to make the pain double in his head.

“Crap. Okay, let’s go to the toilet,” Spirit said, softening her voice to try and sound comforting, not because she realized that she was being too loud earlier. “Just a few steps.”

Oliver groaned as Spirit made him stand up, taking on almost all of his weight, and brought him over to the toilet.

He hovered over it, eyes still squeezed shut in agony. “Thh’lit,” he murmured quietly, and Spirit had to lean forward a bit to hear him try again and mumble, “The light. . . h-hurts.”

Eyes widening, Spirit stood and quickly turned the lights off. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dark, and she crouched beside Oliver again. “What’s going on? Is this a migraine or something?” Oliver didn’t get migraines though. Right?

His eyes were still closed, but not squeezed shut so tightly anymore. He didn’t answer though, and he gagged before bringing up a stream of half-digested puke into the toilet, sobbing from the pain that the force of puking brought to his skull.

Spirit’s eyes widened even more. “Shit. Why are you crying, Oliver? What’s wrong?” Spirit wasn’t a soft person, but Oliver was literally the sweetest person alive, and seeing him crying and in pain brought out this very very rare side of Spirit.

“Head. . . hurrrts,” he groaned before gagging again.

“Spirit? What’s going on?”

Spirit turned her head and saw Birdie standing in the doorway, looking confused and stunned.

“Bird,” Spirit, sighed, sounding relieved. “Something’s wrong with Oliver. Wake the others up, and then call Keiko. I don’t know what—”

Suddenly, Oliver threw up again. The sound of liquid hitting liquid made Birdie gag, and Spirit whisper-yelled, “Go!”

Birdie went back to the living room, and Oliver groaned, coughing and spitting up a small stream of bile.

Suddenly, Amberlynn and Eliana came to the bathroom, and Spirit heard Jordan on the phone in the living room.

“What’s going on?” Amberlynn asked, crouching down next to Spirit. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Spirit said, rubbing Oliver’s back. “I was awake and he went to the bathroom, and he says that his head—”

Spirit was cut off when Eliana suddenly turned on the lights and the sudden brightness made Oliver cry out in pain, once again clutching his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Turn off the fucking light!” Spirit whisper-yelled at Eliana, and the girl quickly shut the light back off, whispering, “sorry sorry sorry!”

Oliver threw up again, chocking on his sick a bit and Spirit thumped his back lightly to help.

“His head hurts,” Spirit said. “I don’t know why though. He doesn’t get migraines, right?”

“I don’t think so,” Amberlynn said, reaching a hand forward to cup Oliver’s forehead. He didn’t have a fever.

Oliver groaned, spitting into the toilet and murmuring, “I don’ffffeel good.”

Jordan came to the bathroom then, her phone still pressed to her ear. “Keiko’s on his way. He asked what’s wrong with him.” Her voice was alarmed and too loud, and Oliver let out a whine, wincing.

“Lower your voice,” Amberlynn said, her voice soft. “He has a headache and he’s throwing up a lot.”

Spirit looked away from Oliver, focusing on Jordan. “Tell Kei that Oliver’s sensitive to light and loud sounds. He’s in a lot of pain.”

Jordan repeated the words to her brother, her voice now quieter. After a second, Jordan said to Spirit, “Kei says to feel through his hair to check if there’s some kind of bump or something.”

Check for a concussion? Spirit was a bit unsure that a concussion would be the case, but she began gently feeling through Oliver’s hair anyway. Lo and behold, she felt a bump on the back of his scalp that made him grimace and whimper when she touched it.

“Shit,” she sighed. “Kei’s right. I think he’s concussed.”

El’s and Amberlynn’s eyes both widened.

“How the hell did he get concussed?” El asked, looking shocked. “He was fine earlier.”

“I don’t know, but that’s not important right now.” Spirit squeezed Oliver’s shoulder. “Are you done?” she asked in a voice that shocked the other girls in the bathroom. Spirit noticed their surprise and her cheeks flushed a bit with embarrassment, but she ignored them and focused on Oliver.

He spat one more time in the toilet before nodding.

“Okay.” Spirit looked at Amberlynn. “Help me get him up.”

Jordan was still talking to Keiko on the phone while they half-dragged Oliver out of the bathroom.

Birdie—not wanting to deal with the puking—had instead helped by bringing some pillows and blankets back to the guest room and setting it up for them to bring Oliver there.

By the time Oliver was lying on the bed, he was almost completely out of it because of the pain.

“Should we take him to the hospital?” Birdie whispered from where she was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling the blankets up to Oliver’s chin and gently rubbing a hand on his forehead. Birdie had naturally cold hands, and her cool skin was a comforting feeling to Oliver.

“Maybe,” Eliana shrugged, sounding unsure.

Oliver frowned. “I don’need a ‘sspital. I’mfffine.”

Spirit scoffed at his slurred disagreement, and Jordan repeated Birdie’s question to Keiko. After a second, she said, “Keiko says that taking him to the hospital would be the best idea. He’ll meet us there.”

“Noooo,” Oliver whined, shifting on the bed. “Mmmm’fine. I’m okay. Jusss’ a lil’dizzy.”

Amberlynn frowned at him. “Oliver, you can barely speak.” She looked at the others. “Should we call an ambulance, or should we just drive him there?”

“I can drive,” Spirit said, leaving the room to grab her keys.

Oliver was pouting while blinking dizzily at his friends. Despite the fact that the world felt like it was spinning and his head was pounding, he didn’t want to go to the hospital. Not for any particular reason other than he just didn’t want to. “I don’nneed t’go to the ‘spital.”

Amberlynn and Jordan got shoes and a jacket on Oliver before trying to get him on his feet again.

He whined as soon as he was upright, knees buckling and almost taking the girls down. His feet were nearly dragging as they took him out of the apartment.

When they got out to the parking lot, Spirit had gotten her car and pulled it up so they didn’t have to walk far.

“Get him lying down in the back,” Spirit instructed. “We can’t all fit in my car. “Jor, you come with us. The rest of you, follow in Amberlynn’s car.”

Spirit’s tone had all of them listening. Once Oliver was in the back seat, Jordan got in the passenger side with Keiko still on the phone. The rest of the girls went straight to Amberlynn’s car since Birdie had grabbed all of their phones, wallets and keys beforehand.

Spirit was a fast but safe driver, and made sure they were going quick while being smooth enough to not rattle Oliver in the back seat.

Jordan looked at Spirit and noticed her grip on the wheel was so tight that her knuckles were pale. “Hey,” Jordan whispered, making Spirit jump slightly; a show of how tense she was. “Everything’s fine,” Jordan assured her.

Spirit nodded, letting out a deep breath. “So much for sleepover night,” she grumbled.

Jordan let out her own sigh before whispering, this time more for her own sake than Spirit’s, “Everything’s fine.”

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

Part 2?????

#ollie's soooo cute #and spirit is immensely funny #she's such a s'more #thick on the outside but all soft on the inside #loved her going big sister on oliver #and bird out of her depth bc of puke!!#oliver insisting he didnt need a hospital while actively slurring all his words #babyyy

9 notes · View notes

bellysoupset · 23 hours

Note

“He rushed inside of a stall and brought his coat to his mouth, muffling a loud, thick burp. Even with the fabric in the way, it was still pretty loud and he was sure others had heard it.”

i’m so normal about that soup

so beyond incredibly super normal

(i’m foaming at the mouth, actually)

- 🧝‍♂️

🙈🙈🙈🙈the best compliment!!

#lovely correspondence #🧝‍♂️ anon #chomping on jon and shaking my head like those doggos

8 notes · View notes

bellysoupset · 1 day

Text

Part 2 of Leo's birthday - Jonah's turn.

This was a request from🧋anon!

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

Leo was cute when he slept and Jonah was sure this was an objective opinion and not just because he was head over heels in love with the guy.

He was sprawled on the bed, occupying most of it and snoring softly, shirtless and having already kicked away most of the blankets. Despite the terrible ending of their night, Jon was still counting that as a good birthday. Sure, Leo had puked on Wendy’s shoes and then again on the kitchen sink as soon as they got home, but afterwards he had climbed into bed with Jonah, complaining about a bellyache, and had melted like a golden retriever pup on his lap, dozing off within minutes of getting the belly rub.

That should still count as a good birthday, right?

“Baby,” Jonah crawled on the bed, freshly showered and ready to head in for work, “Leo. Wake up, you’re going to be late for work,” he shook his fiance’s shoulder, “Leo.”

He’d probably end up being late himself at this rate. Leo groaned and swatted his hand away, making Jonah scoff.

“I’m heading to work,” he whispered, brushing Leo’s hair away from his face, “and I’m gonna set your phone’s alarm. Thirty more minutes, then you have to get up.”

“Uhhrgh,” was Leo’s response and Jonah rolled his eyes, doing as he had promised and leaving the bedroom. He had spent too much time in the shower and there wouldn’t be any time to make himself food, but the cupcakes Leo had brought over from work were still in the fridge.

Figuring his boyfriend certainly wouldn’t want them after puking due to too much food last night, Jonah quickly polished off the two cupcakes on his way down to the garage.

As his day progressed, Jonah’s good humor started to tank. Everything felt like too much, his clothes clinging to him, the hospital noise that normally he could drown out without thinking, sounding much louder than usual.

Around 10 AM, he got a kid wailing down the ER and a distraught mom absolutely chewing the hell out of the paramedic who had just brought him in. Jonah cringed as he realized he’d have to be the one handling this. There were many reasons why he wanted to be a surgeon and one of them was no angry moms hovering about while he tried to do his job.

He’d take a heart attack any day over a broken leg.

Mom’s name was Louise and she was not impressed by Jonah’s bedside manner. Her son was named Charlie and he was struggling to keep up, the poor kid’s chin wobbling as he tried valiantly not to cry.

“Charlie, we’re going to-”

The dam broke and more tears came up. Jonah sighed, resisting the urge to fan himself. It was so warm. He planted a sympathetic hand on the kid’s shoulder, wiping away the tears. It was painful to watch, knowing the boy was only hurting himself more by sobbing like that.

“You’re okay,” Jonah cooed softly, as the nurse started up an IV, communicating silently with him. There was no way they could wait for oral painkillers to take effect before wheeling the kid to x-ray and that was considering he didn’t make himself sick with all the crying, “it’s just a little poke.”

“Hu-hurttssss,” the little boy continued to cry and Jonah rubbed his back, checking his watch. Five minutes for the morphine to kick in. Louise was patting her foot nervously on the ground, whole body shaking with anxiety.

“Ma’am, he’s in good hands,” Jonah explained, just to say something. His stomach was starting to slosh uncomfortably, “we’re waiting for the painkillers to kick in and then we’ll go to x-ray, you’re welcome to accompany-”

“Of course I’m going with him, are you crazy?” She scoffed at him, stepping closer and cooing over her son. Jonah resisted the urge to move away, as the kid wiped at his nose grossly on the back of his sleeve and slightly cuddled up to his side. He was getting heavy.

“There we go,” Jon lowered him against the pillow, “hurting less?”

The boy nodded, his face still all pink and wet with tears, “still hurts.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he grimaced, signing the kid’s record and jolting down his next instructions, “we can’t give you too much medicine, in case we need to do another procedure. As soon as the X-rays are done we’ll give you better meds,” Jonah smoothed the boy’s hair back gently, “we’re going to move your bed now, okay Charlie? Are you feeling alright?”

The kid sucked in a sob, but nodded and Jonah smiled at him, “nurse Marjorie is going to stay with you the whole time,” he gestured to the much older nurse, who was one of his favorite people in the hospital. She had more than 30 years of experience, was trained for surgeries and tough as nails. “Then as soon as you’re released from X-Ray I’m going to see you again, okay?”

“O-Okay…” The kid’s voice broke and Jonah squeezed his hand in a sympathetic manner, before allowing the technicians to wheel him away, his mother not sparing the doctor a second glance.

As soon as they were out of sight, Jonah allowed his smile to fade.

While the interaction had been brief — and Louise hadn’t actually shaped up to be a momzilla, just a regular worried mother — it had been long enough for his stomach to go from “a little off” to “full blown nausea”.

He felt a weird pressure travel up and Jonah quickly excused himself, power walking to the bathrooms, stripping his white coat as he rushed there so he wouldn’t be so recognizable as a doctor.

The bathroom, given it was near the ER, wasn’t empty. There were five stalls on each side, the middle of the room had a large slab of stone with a mirror and five sinks on each side of the mirror. No urinals, for which Jonah was very glad.

He rushed inside of a stall and brought his coat to his mouth, muffling a loud, thick burp. Even with the fabric in the way, it was still pretty loud and he was sure others had heard it. Whatever, this was a hospital, he tried to reassure himself, as yet another sickening burp rolled up.

Jonah let out a little moan and lowered the coat, head hanging in shame and nausea. He folded the coat over one arm, slightly palming his stomach under his button up shirt. It was warm to the touch and bloated and the small pressure of his hand on it caused another belch to rush up, this one too expected for him to muffle it.

It hurt his throat, the acidic sludge of his tummy rushing up with the burp, but he swallowed it down last second. Jonah pressed his forehead to the hard white plastic of the stall’s wall and breathed out slowly, he had to get his body in check. At least finish his ER hours.

Defeated and knowing he wouldn’t puke right at this moment, Jonah walked out of the stall to wash his face.

The next two hours went like a blur. He tried his best to focus on his patients, but was forcefully reminded by his stomach that it was still very upset every other minute. He had grabbed a plastic cup of water and was sipping on it in between patients, pushing down the thick sweet saliva that kept flooding his mouth.

Finally Claire came to relieve him, so he could go for lunch, and Jonah could’ve cried. Instead of heading down to the cafeteria or to the many restaurants that were around the hospital’s complex, he went to the doctor’s staff to lie down.

There was coming and going in the place, it was a change of shifts after all, and Jonah reached for his phone inside his locker. He grabbed it, then went to the back room where there were two bunker beds in case they needed to sleep.

One of the top ones was already occupied and Jonah put his phone on silent mode, then crawled on a bottom bed, curling up on his side and muffling another sick burp against the thin pillow.

He wrapped an arm around his stomach, bringing up his knees and squeezing his eyes as the pressure made his belly feel like it was full with boiling liquid.

There were texts from Leo and Jonah squinted at the screen, lowering the brightness and struggling to understand what his boyfriend was saying.

Leo: Gonna call in sick at work, still feeling pretty shitty. Don’t think I overdid it yesterday, just ate something off.

Leo: Good news! You’ll be happy to know the restaurant we went to didn't make me sick. I got food poisoning at the office :) When I get my hands on Sandy she’s done for.

Leo: Apparently they canceled everyone’s schedule, because everyone called in sick. Isn't that lovely? You bet your ass we’re gonna have a lecture on food handling and what not, can’t wait.

Leo: When are you coming home, my tummy hurts and I want cuddles 🥺🥺 JD is sick of me

Leo: Jon, did you eat the cupcakes in the fridge? Baby, pls text me back.

The string of texts started at 8 AM and ended just around 10 AM, with one missed call accompanying it. Jonah gagged as he realized he had eaten the poisoned stuff as well and he dropped his phone on the mattress, half sitting up on the bed and trying to figure if he was about to spew or not.

He was sweating. Jon undid his tie and opened the top buttons of his shirt, sitting fully up and cradling his stomach. The whole organ was snarling like crazy and he gulped down when the flipping of its contents made him gag, almost bringing up liquid.

“Fuck,” Jonah whispered, grabbing his phone, coat and tie and slipping out of the bedroom. He needed a bathroom, not a bedroom- His intestines cramped and Jon froze, shuddering at the sensation. He really needed a bathroom.

At least the doctor’s one was much more private. It still had stalls, but only two and the place was empty. Jonah dropped all his items to the ground, suddenly too restless and panicked to mind how gross that was. He wasn’t sure if he was going to shit his pants or puke.

His stomach let out an upset whine and then a rush of bubbles went south, making up his mind for him. His hands were shaking as they fumbled with his belt and fly and he could feel his tummy rumbling ominously against his touch.

He sat on the toilet, then wrapped his arms around his middle, gulping down nervously. The lights over his head felt like too much and he was sweating like hell.

The runs left him so dizzy he was forced to plant a hand on the stall’s wall in order not to fall off the toilet. Jonah didn’t even bother muffling the sick burping fit that followed, his head swimming.

Once he finally managed to get out of the bathroom, Jonah stared at his reflection angrily. He looked like hell. Sweat had glued down his tight curls to his temples and was beading over his forehead and mustache area, he looked gray, his lips pale…

He washed his face and hands vigorously, then took a gulp of tap water and breathed through the sensation of it settling in his stomach like a brick. Jonah checked his watch, then groaned out loud, there was no way he’d be able to last the remaining five hours he still had to go.

Wendy picked up on the third ring, sounding sleepy. She had the night shift today and Jonah felt bad about waking her up, but not so bad he considered not calling. He wanted to go home, his whole body was shaking.

“Yeah?” she yawned, “Jon?”

“Dee, can you cover for me? I don’t feel well,” he said, straight to the point. Another yawn.

“Please tell me Leo didn’t have a stomach bug. I can't get the flu again, I’m gonna cry,” Wendy groaned and he heard her moving around.

“No, food poisoning and I-” he turned his head, muffling a sick burp and gagging over the sink when it brought up some thick, extra sweet spit. Jonah took a steady breath, “I think I got it as well.”

“Fantastic,” Wendy deadpanned, “I can go in one hour, can you handle that long?”

He knew she only lived 10 minutes away from the hospital and that the 50 other minutes were probably to tell Vince goodbye, since he’d be driving back to Doverport. Jonah felt mildly annoyed at the fact she’d be making out with her boyfriend while he was dying, but he also knew she was already doing a gigantic favor by coming in five hours before she needed to.

“Yeah, I can handle one hour,” he sighed, clutching his stomach.

“Alright, I’ll be there,” she hung up without further ado and Jonah let out a sigh.

The thing was, he could clock out and then stay in the bathroom until Wendy arrived, but then it would mean his chart would show he had left five hours earlier and Jonah needed all the hours he could get. Whenever Wendy covered for him or he covered for her, they never clocked out.

So instead of being smart and staying in the bathroom, he forced himself to go sit in his office.

Normally he liked clinic office hours, but not today. Today he didn’t like anything.

Jonah was sitting there, with his head in his hands and considering the stupidity of his actions given how badly his stomach was churning and how he kept burping — thank god his door was shut —, when there was a knock.

He glanced at his watch. 30 more minutes, couldn’t be Wendy.

“Come-” just speaking increased his nausea tenfold and Jonah interrupted himself as he gagged, sliding the trashcan that was under his desk closer and–

The door opened, the person on the other side clearly not realizing he hadn’t finished his words. The little boy from before, now in crutches and with his leg on a cast, still looking like he was in pain and ready to cry, his mother right behind him…

“Fuck,” Jonah groaned, when his stomach gave up on him and he had no choice but to dive for the trashcan as a thick wave of vomit came up. He brought it up to his mouth, to shield his face from view, but still he heard over the rushing in his ears as the woman let out a shriek.

Humiliation only heightened his stomach ache and he coughed, bringing up another wave of overly sweet vomit. It tasted just like the chocolate cupcakes, except rotten. Jonah burped mid retch, feeling more than a little woozy and he fell from his chair, grabbing on the desk to keep from going down entirely.

A lot more noise now and then a hand was in the middle of his back, a female voice ushering his distraught patients out. He prayed the next wave of puke would drown him.

No such luck, his tummy squeezed again and Jonah let out a whimper as he was forced to burp and it brought up some more chunks of his poisoned breakfast. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime but was probably just a couple minutes, he stopped feeling like he was about to hurl and was left panting over the trashcan.

He was shaking like hell and his stomach was cramping, intestines as well. Everything felt sort of fuzzy around the edges.

“Jon?” Wendy’s voice was like a balm to his nerves and he nearly cried. Instead he let out a groan and pulled back from the trashcan, falling vaguely against her. He heard her let out a little huff as he weight rested on her, but her hand was cold and gentle as it came to cup his forehead.

“Killme, Wen,” he groaned, his words sticking together and she let out a sigh, rubbing his arm.

“Are you done?”

“For now,” Jonah nodded. He knew he was far from done, not only because of the food, but because he felt a new type of nausea mix into his belly. Anxiety, panic, “my patients-”

“It’s okay,” Wendy squeezed his arm, “don’t think about that. Claire took them out.”

“Fuck,” he turned his head and blinked, finally getting a hold of his bearings. They were sitting on the ground, practically under his desk. Wendy had her white coat on and she looked incredibly concerned, “you’re not gonna call me an idiot for not sitting in the doctor’s lounge until you arrived?”

Wendy shook her head, “you’re feeling too bad for me to tease you,” she stroked his cheek lightly and Jonah felt a knot in his throat. He nodded in agreement and leaned forward, planting his forehead to her shoulder, a weird position given Wendy was much shorter than he was.

“I wanna die,” he groaned and she rubbed his back.

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” she ushered him up, “I’ll get their details and you can send the mom an apology card and some fancy wine. It’s not the end of the world, I promise you.”

“Stewarts-” Jonah started to say, meaning his supervisor, who’d absolutely chew him out for this and Wendy glared at him, pushing him along the hallway.

“You couldn’t have known, it came out of nowhere,” she lied through her teeth, “right? You were feeling fine before.”

Jonah cringed, but nodded, buying in the lie, “yeah, I certainly didn’t feel gross for hours beforehand.”

“Exactly,” Wendy pushed him down the hallway, “I’m gonna drive you home, okay? And you’re gonna be a decent patient and drink loads of water and get your boy to do the same, because I don’t want to see any of you in my hospital later.”“Don’t call Leo my boy, that’s weird,” Jonah groaned, but he was feeling overwhelmingly fond of his best friend. He loved this woman so much.

#srb

45 notes · View notes

bellysoupset · 1 day

Note

ohh your situationship story is actually kinda similar irl story i was gonna tell you (at least the beginning)

so remember the guy in my last story? this is about the same guy. he spends like a week in my city and the next in a different one for his job. and we had a long weekend a few days ago, so he was coming down to spend it at my place, which we were pretty hyped about(this is all relevant i promise)

He texted me when he was on the way to tell me that he was “feeling gross and in need of kisses” (which was insanely cute). He was all quiet and cuddly when he got home, which is a bit out of character for him, he’s usually full of energy. He was queasy but mostly fine by the time we went to bed, so I thought he’d be fine by the next morning. I was so wrong.

Woke up to him hightailing it to the bathroom to throw up pretty much everything he’d eaten in the day. After about half an hour of sitting on the floor and gagging, he finally deemed it safe enough to go back to bed, only to puke in the sink as soon as he stood up. He was so miserable and teary😭 it was awful for him but I was lowkey losing my mind. He was pretty sick for the next day. At one point I made him drink some gatorade so he wouldn’t get too dehydrated and he threw it up IMMEDIATELY, bright blue all over the rug.

So our long exciting weekend was just us napping on the couch and me rubbing his back as he threw up 😂

It was fine though, he was being such a baby, which is not a side of him I get to see often, so I was enjoying it once he was on the mend! And we did go out on the last day of his stay, which was pretty fun!

He’s sort of a mixture of luke and jonah actually. All prickly but also regularly gets thr zoomies 😂😂

(i’m usually a better storyteller than this, I promise, but exam season has fried my brain)🍄

this was the CUTEST thing ever oh my god 🍄!!!

"in need of kisses" is already so adorable, I'd be in stitches upon hearing that. Also him having zoomies? 🍄 ? your situationship is a Catch just for that lol

I hope he didn't ruin the rug tho!

#🍄 anon #GAWD #sucks that it kinda ruined ur weekend tho :/

14 notes · View notes