#mickey mouse bathroom

[wealllovesloths]

3/4 Bath Orlando An illustration of a medium-sized traditional 3/4-travertine-floor bathroom with a beige floor, raised-panel cabinets, light wood cabinets, a two-piece toilet, gray walls, an undermount sink, and onyx countertops.

[chloeeruby]

Orlando Traditional Bathroom Example of a mid-sized classic 3/4 travertine floor and beige floor bathroom design with raised-panel cabinets, light wood cabinets, a two-piece toilet, gray walls, an undermount sink and onyx countertops

[ares857]

internet find

If you want this project to continue, you can use the Paypal donation button on the web page of the blog. Any donation is welcome.

[annoyingpastryineyeliner]

[logansargeantsbabymom]

helloooo my love🎀

i just wanna let you know you're my favourite logan writer and your writing is so good. can't wait for more of 'too good to say goodbye'!!! mwah

Thank You so much, you're too kind to me! You don't know how much this means to me! So with that being said here is

Too Good To Say Goodbye part 6

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6

F1 Masterlist

I can't be pregnant right? I mean I had my daughter almost 5 months ago, I’m not ready to be pregnant again.

When Lando brought me back some water, I had him grab me a pair of comfortable clothes because I wanted to “take a shower”. The second Lando closed the door of the bathroom I quickly grabbed the box from the cupboard and pulled out a test.

I let out a shaky breath after I peed on the stick and waited for the results. I just had to wait three minutes for an answer. I heard footsteps coming to the bathroom and I knew I had to hide the test, I just didn’t have anywhere to hide it. I quickly shoved the the test to the back of the cupboard before the door swung open.

“Hey, I couldn’t find the PJs that you like so I brought you one of my shirts and a random pair of your Mickey Mouse shorts. Is that fine?” Lando looked so worried that I randomly got sick.

“Perfect. Thank you” I said as he placed my clothes on the bathroom sink

“Do you want me to help you shower? I know how you get when you’re sick and I don’t want you passing out in the bath again.” It’s true, when I get sick and shower my blood pressure plummets and I go down fast.

“I’m okay, I’ll call out if my blood pressure drops. I promise.” with a quick kiss to my forehead Lando left.

That means only one thing now. Time’s up and I can check the results on the test. I quickly turned on the shower to make it seem like I was about to step in before I bent down to grab the test from the back of the cupboard.

I held the test in my shaky hands, whatever this result was is gonna change my life forever. Either I’m pregnant again but with Lando’s baby this time and I get to have that joy of being pregnant again and giving Lando his first born or I’m not and I want to get pregnant by Lando. I flipped the test over and let out a shaky breath while I read the result.

positive

Holy shit, I’m fucking pregnant again. So many questions have been floating around in my mind like how am I gonna tell Lando, when am I gonna tell Lando, Is he gonna be happy, does he want to be a dad, and more importantly how is Logan going to react? No, stop why are you thinking about Logan? He has no say in any of this. Stop having such a soft spot for him.

I placed the test down on top my clothes while I stepped in the shower. I have to process all this new information before I tell Lando. Maybe I should wait until I know this pregnancy is going to stick. Last thing I want is a Theo 2.0, I don’t want to be happy about this pregnancy and find out the gender of the baby only to lose it in the end.

A soft knock of the bathroom door pulled me out of my thoughts before I heard the door creak open a little and my head shot to look out of the shower curtain to make sure that the pregnancy test is out of eyeshot of Lando in case he poked his head in. Thank god he just opened it enough for me to hear him

“Baby? Are you okay, it’s been 45 minutes?” 45 minutes?! No. I haven’t been that deep in thought, have I?

“Oh sorry, lost track of time. I’m fine, coming out now.” I yelled, trying not to sound nervous. Lando and I have talked about having a kid together but we didn’t think it would happen this fast I mean yeah we fucked raw all the time but Lando almost always pulled out. Only 4 times he hasn’t and that was all in one night, 3 weeks ago. There was no way I’m 3 weeks pregnant, I can’t be.

I mean the test says I am but false positives are a thing. I can't believe it until a doctor confirms it or a bump grows if I wait it out. Having Yelena was such a joy, it still is. That little 5 month girl brings so much joy into my world and she doesn't even know it. She's a little carbon copy of Logan and I love that. I love it because I love Logan. Now imagine a little carbon copy of Lando running around the house? Aww, just makes my heart melt thinking about it. I have so much love in my heart for Lando because I know deep down, he is who I want to spend the rest of my life with. Lando is the one I want to grow old with, I want to share a last name with him, a family, a life. I want to do and have it all and I want it all with Lando.

-

I tried to sneak out of the bathroom and have it go unnoticed by the man who's baby is snug as a bug in a rug in my uterus but to no avail.

"Babe! You had me worried, I thought you went down for the count. I was about to call 911" Lando said as he jogged to where I stood as he pressed both his hands on either side of my face while moving it around inspecting every inch of my face for a scratch tor bruise.

"Lando.." I whispered. Doubt started to seep in as I opened my mouth

"Babe?" Lando's voice barely audible, scared that if he spoke any louder he'd hear words that he never want to hear.

"We need to talk" I didn't make eye contact which only sent him more into the 'we're breaking up' frenzy

"No, please" I could see the tears welling up in his eyes

"No! It's not bad," I started as a faint chuckle leaves my lips "At least I don't think it's bad"

The look in Lando's face told me that he didn't find my little joke funny, he wanted to know what I had on my mind before he would end up being 100% again.

I attempted to grab Lando's hand to guide him to the bed but he wouldn't budge. Exhaling a sigh I just told him as it was

"I'm pregnant" I let his hand go as I searched his face for any type of reaction. I needed something whether it was anger, joy, fear, disgust, I needed SOMETHING. Instead, I was met with a blank and unreadable expression.

As the seconds turned into minutes I started to regret my decision of telling him. I started to doubt whether Lando was ready to be a dad, I mean he takes care of Yelena like she’s his own but to actually have a kid with your own DNA is way different. You have to make decisions for the well being of your child together whereas Lando just asked me if he was able to do whatever with Yelena because she’s my daughter.

“You’re preg- what?” Lando shook his head as if he was trying to refocus his eyes after he spaced out.

There was not many things that could leave Lando speechless and this was one of the many FEW things that did.

“I am pregnant. I’m sorry, I know that we discussed maybe having kids in the future but I didn’t think it was gonna happen this fast. I don’t know if you want a kid and I really don’t want to do half this pregnancy alone again like how it was when I was pregnant with Yelena and I really, REALLY don’t want to have to go through that again but if that’s what you want I will leave and you’ll never have to see me again. Wait that’s actually a lie because I work for you, well technically McLar-” Lando cut me off by smashing his lips to mine and lifting me off the group and spinning us. When he pulled away he had the biggest grin plastered on his face.

“I’m gonna be a dad?! You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, I love you so much. So so so much. Can I kiss the baby?” he gestured to my tummy

“Honey, the baby is nothing but a clump of cells right now” I light chuckle left my lips as I lifted my hands to wipe a few stray tears away from my face that I didn’t know had fallen.

My rebuttal wasn’t enough for Lando though, because he bent down, lifted my shirt just above my tummy and started to whisper sweet nothings to it.

"Hi baby, I'm your dad. You can't hear me but I already love you so much, more than you'll ever comprehend when you're born. I want you to know that I'll protect you forever and I will spoil you rotten, even if your mommy says no. Only with certain things though, she'll kill me.” This ended up going on for about an hour, so much so that while Lando was talking to our soon to be baby he’d actually picked me up and gently placed me on our bed so I didn’t have to stand while he kept talking.

My heart was filled with so much joy and happiness and I wanted to relish in this moment forever. I’d closed my eyes 10 minutes after Lando placed me on the bed and I had my hand in his hair “You’re gonna have the best Aunts and Uncles in the whole world. You’re gonna love your sister, she’s amazing. She’s gonna love you so much, your brother also loves you so much. You’re probably with him right now having a good time. Tell him his mommy and daddy miss him so much.” Lando assumed I was asleep when he said what he said and I tried so hard not to cry.

In that moment, Lando talked about Logan with the most respect than he’d had since before the fight we had.

I think seeing Lando slowly start to forgive Logan has really helped me in my healing process of becoming a new mom and also co-parenting. I would be lying if I said life wasn’t hard right now because it is. It’s terrible right now and I would do anything to change the way I’m feeling but living for Yelena makes all this pain and stress worth it.

I would go through all this pain over and over again even if it gets worse just to give my baby a good life. I would do anything for her and her wellbeing and I know Lando would do the same for our kid.

“My little baby, I would do anything for you. Even if it meant giving up racing, I would do it all for you. I’m so excited to meet you, I already love you so much. You make me want to be a better version of myself and trust me, you’re gonna be the new favorite on the paddock, well, you and Yelena. You both would top Roscoe and Leo” Lando’s hand went to rest on my tummy. Even though he knew he would just be touching fat Lando didn’t want to feel like he was gonna miss any part of this pregnancy. He’d been there for the better half of my pregnancy with Yelena and he’d done any and everything he could’ve to make me feel better. I felt safe with Lando.

————

It had been 3 months since I found out I was pregnant, which means I was just starting my second trimester and I’d woken up so drained and nauseous and I had to quickly rush to the bathroom or Lando would be unfortunately the one who had to clean the mess. I slowly made my way out of the bed making sure to take deep slow breaths and tried to distract myself so I wouldn't puke until I got to the toilet but that didn't last long.

"Baby? Is Yelena up?" The thought of responding to Lando was enough to make me want to hurl so I had to run to the bathroom and I just barely made it. After spilling my all my guts into the toilet, I looked over to see Lando holding Yelena, bouncing her up and down while pacing back and forth in our room.

"Did I wake her?" I sounded defeated and that's because I was. I'm in my 2nd trimester of this pregnancy and I'm still getting nauseous in the mornings. My first two pregnancies weren't like how this one is shaping out to be and I can't help but have a bad feeling about it.

"Do you want to get checked out? I read about somethings that could be wrong and I just want make sure the baby is okay, I mean I care about you so much more but I want both of you to be alright." Lando has been my rock throughout this pregnancy, always getting me what I crave even if he knows I won't be able to keep it down, always running hot baths for me, letting me occasionally drive his McLaren.

"Yes please, I don't know how much more of this I can take." I whimpered, it sounded pathetic but I couldn't muster up any energy to sound okay.

No one on the grid or any of the WAGS new I was pregnant. I learned my lesson last time when I told the whole world about my pregnancy with Leo and then had to very publicly grieve with Logan.

"I'll call Logan to take Yelena for the day. I'll tell him you got some type of food poisoning and I have to take you to the hospital." All I could do was muster up a little energy to nod slightly.

Lando had a sad look in his eyes. He looked like he regretted putting his girlfriend through this much pain and agony. Lando was one to always want to take her pain away but right now and until I gave birth, he couldn't.

ten minutes later Lando walked back in the bathroom, where I still laid by the toilet, with Yelena. She looked all cute dressed up in her little Williams outfit that she was gifted from James when I told the world via instagram.

"Logan's 5 minutes out, I'll put her in her play pen and then I'll be back to help you get up and dressed, okay?" Lando took my silence as an agreement and he quickly placed Yelena in the makeshift playpen in her nursery before jogging back to me.

“Okay, cmon up you go.” Lando said as he placed both his arms under mine and clasped his hands together to pull me up “good girl, okay let’s go” we started walking to our room “I’m gonna sit you on the edge of the bed and grab you some comfy clothes okay?” Lando said as he placed me at the end of the bed.

I watched as Lando went to our walk in closet and grabbed me a pair of grey sweatpants and a rhea ripely t-shirt and my favorite pair of socks and crocs.

“Okay Honey, lift your arms. Good girl, okay now I need to to stand up so I can take your shorts off, good good. Thank you honey, okay lift one leg, good. Now the other, amazing. I know you’re exhausted but you’re doing so good for me.” after a few more minutes of him helping me get dressed we heard the doorbell ring.

“COMING!!” Lando screamed before he turned his attention back to me

“Okay honey, Logan’s here so I’m just gonna carry you to the sofa. Okay, up you go.” Lando carried me bridal style to the living room before he opened the door and let Logan come in.

I saw them whisper indistinctively while simultaneously looking in my direction. Logan had a look of pity on his face and I very rarely got that reaction out of him.

“Hi babygirl, I’ve missed you so much!” Logan said as he picked up Yelena and started peppering her with kisses. Logan made his way towards the door but he stopped and turned around and looked at me

“I’m sorry you’re sick. I hope the doctors can help you feel better, Yelena needs her mom to be 100% by the time she leaves her daddy’s house” Logan tried to make a small joke just to take my mind off being sick and part of it worked. A small smile creeped on my face as Logan bid his farewells and took our daughter and left.

Lando pre started the car before he made his way back over to me.

“Okay, up we go again. Good, you’re doing so well for me. We’re almost to the car, just a few more steps,” he unlocked the car and opened the passenger door “In we go, you’re doing so good for me. I love you so much” Lando put my seatbelt on for me before closing the door and jogging to the drivers side and starting driving to the hospital.

————

I’d gotten admitted into the hospital about 30 minutes ago and the doctors had hooked me to an IV for fluids and electrolytes, since I couldn’t keep anything down and I was severely dehydrated while they ran several tests to determine what was wrong with me.

After being poked and prodded and waiting for results for what felt like forever, the doctor and his follow student finally came back with some results.

“Hello Ms L/N, as you know we took several tests and at first we couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you but after the most recent test we ran, we found out that you in fact have developed hyperemesis gravidarum, It’s where you have extreme morning sickness during just about all stages of your pregnancy, there is one way to help with that.” The doctor had explained what my condition was

“Well, how can you help my wife? She’s suffering and she’s severely dehydrated, this obviously isn’t good for her or the baby.” Lando is always worried about my health but right now he was 100x more protective of me, probably because I’m carrying precious cargo.

“Well, I can start her right now on this pump that’ll inject her with Zofran which is basically anti-nausea medicine so you’ll be able to eat and drink without throwing it up” The doctor went on to explain the pros and cons of this little device but I was too out of it to listen. The IV that was injecting me with fluids was helping me for sure though, I felt like I had a lot more energy now than I had when I first got admitted.

“Thank you so much Doc. We really appreciate everything you did for us. Oh thank you ms, we really appreciate it” Lando said to the nice student doctor who had just wheeled a wheelchair into the room.

“You’re welcome. Ms L/N, I'm gonna help you up okay, are you okay with me putting my hands here to help you?" The doctors assistant, Kelani asked.

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you" My voice hoarse from vomiting non-stop for just about 4 months on end.

--------

When we got back home, I felt 30x better. I hadn't felt this good since 2 months after I had Yelena. I felt like myself again and boy was I hungry.

"Hey babe?" I whispered, unsure if Lando was awake seeing as when we got home immediately went to our room to put on a movie and take a nap, I had one hand combing through his curls while my eyes were laser focused on the movie currently playing on the screen. We had put on Captain America: The First Avenger before we took a nap and when I woke up, I saw that we were just about half way through Captain America: The Winter Soldier (my personal favorite movie)

"Yes my love? Are you okay? Are you gonna be sick?" Lando's head immediately shot up assuming the worst

"Quite the opposite actually. I'm starving" I watched as Lando's face contorted in confusion. Ever since I found out I was pregnant I knew it was going to be hard because the first trimester is always tough with all the nausea and not wanting to eat but this pregnancy I didn't want to even look at food because I wanted to vomit. I felt like there was no point in eating or drinking anything if I wasn't going to be able to keep it down and there were times where Lando had to force me to eat.

"Oh! Yes, I'll grab you anything you want. What are you and baby in the mood for? I mean it when I said I'll go anywhere"

"Baby is really in the mood for Wingstop, I don't know, baby's saying something about Mango Habanero wings and Voodoo fries" I chuckle

"Okay, I'll be right back" Lando said as he leaped from the bed and was about to run out of the room

"Wait!" That stopped Lando dead in his tracks "I want to come with"

Lando was quickly right back at my side as he was when he left and he helped me get up from the bed and then we made our way to the front door.

Opening it, we were met with a surprise. Logan was standing there with Yelena in his arms.

"Hey sorry, I ran out of milk for Yelena do you have any frozen breast milk?" Logan asked as he stared at the floor, almost as if he was ashamed to ask his Ex-Girlfriend for food for his baby.

"Oh yeah, let me grab you some. Are you gonna take her this weekend since it's Thursday and this is technically 'your weekend'?" Me and Logan have 'scheduled weekends' that we're supposed to have Yelena ordered by the courts but since we technically work together and we're on good terms, we take turns alternating each week. I started to make my way to the kitchen before stopping dead I my tracks at what Logan said next.

"Yeah, I just wanted to come grab some milk because I know we discussed rarely using formula when you were pregnant with Theo."

Hearing his name always stings, no matter how much time passes.

"Um, yeah. Well- uh here's the milk." I said as I handed Logan a little thermal bag of 10 frozen bags of frozen breast milk.

"Thank you. Sorry to bother you again, say 'bye' to mommy Yelena" Logan poked her tummy with one finger and she lifted her little arm and waved it in my direction.

All I kept thinking was man, I can't wait to relive all these 'first' moments with this baby.

--

Lando and I waited about 15 minutes to leave after Logan did. We both made our way to the car in a quiet but comfortable silence.

The Wingstop was about 10 minutes away which only meant one thing "All Too Well (Taylors Version) (10 minute version)"

By the time the song ended we'd already placed the order online and just had to wait until the pickup time to go in.

I think now that this Zofran is kicking in, I'm just so excited to eat.

"C'mon babe, It says it's ready." I sounded more excited than usual and rightfully so; I can (hopefully) actually eat.

We had gone inside hand in hand, Lando went to grab the food while I was getting our drinks. All was going well but I should've known that I couldn't keep my peace and pregnancy a secret for long and this proved it.

In a matter of minutes after grabbing the food, both of our phones were being bombarded with a lot of incoming texts and calls, one of them caught my eye though

Lily: Check your instagram now!

What? I opened instagram scared and when I saw the first thing on my feed I let out the biggest sigh and looked over at Lando who was already looking at me with a deflated look on his face.

"So much for telling them on our own terms eh?"

-----

HII!! I'M TRYING SO HARD TO GET THESE CHAPTERS OUT AS FAST AS POSSIBLE BUT I WANT TO MAKE THEM GOOD!

GENDER REVEAL IN THE NEXT CHAPTER I PROMISE 🥰🥰🎀🎀

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti@dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy

[billys-pretty-babe]

Sick Babe

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wintertime in Hawkins was brutal for Billy's body the first winter that he's in Hawkins and luckily, he has you, his best friend, to take care of him.

Warnings: Swearing, vomiting

Word count : 1,563

The coughs made his ribs rattle, his throat already sore from the copious amount of vomit that he had expelled earlier in the day. Now, he sat up, his hair pulled back into a low bun as he groaned, looking up at the ceiling. He was going to die; he just knew it. His body wasn't made for Hawkins winters. His coughing fit stopped, and he took a deep breath. Each breath he took, he could hear himself wheeze.

You walked into his bedroom, seeing how miserable he was. "I brought you water because you're dehydrated and soup." You put the hot bowl on his bedside table, handing him the bottle of water and he took a few sips of it. You walked into his bathroom, looking through the medicines that he had. You grabbed the jar of VapoRub and a fever patch, before walking back into his bedroom.

You pushed the few straggler pieces of hair back, sticking the cold patch to his forehead. "This has fucking Mickey Mouse on it," he grumbled as he saw the packaging in your hand. "Would you rather stay hot or have a little relief?" He made no comment, just looking at you with soft eyes. "That's what I thought. Now take your shirt off."

His lips twitched, fighting a smirk, making you roll your eyes because you knew he could be on his death bed one day and still be the biggest flirt alive. He slowly took the white tank top off, throwing it over the side of the bed. You uncapped the plastic jar and dipped your fingers into it. "It's gonna be cold," you warned before placing the jelly-like substance on his chest, hoping his blonde chest hair wouldn't get matted whenever the gel dried up.

His eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of you rubbing his chest. "Billy, I swear if I feel your boner, I'm cutting it off with no remorse, I'm not even playing with you." He mocked you, voice hoarse as his hands held your waist. "Can you lay with me?" And there was the clinginess that you had been subjected to for the last ten hours, and it seemed like it wouldn't stop anytime soon.

"Let me finish this, and after you eat your soup, we can cuddle." He nodded, letting you finish rubbing the gel on his chest before he slowly ate his soup. He put the bowl down, about half of the can still in the bowl. "My stomach hurts." You nodded, taking the bowl into the kitchen, dumping it into the trash, knowing he wouldn't eat it and you wouldn't be able to eat it.

You walked back into his bedroom, his sheet on the floor as his bathroom door was open where you could see him leaned over the toilet, his fingers white with how hard he gripped the toilet seat. You looked through his drawers, finding the mint gum and popping a piece into your mouth, trying to control your own gags.

You grabbed his water bottle and grabbed a rag, making your way into the bathroom, sweeping pieces of hair away from his sweaty forehead. You rubbed his back, trying your best to comfort him but also trying to take your mind off of your own stomach churning. You wet the rag in his sink and wiped his mouth after he flushed the toilet.

"Sit," you ordered, and he put the toilet lid down, sitting on top of it as you grabbed his toothbrush, barely putting toothpaste on it. You handed him the toothbrush, opening a new one and placing it into his toothbrush holder as he brushed his teeth, toothpaste foaming on his lips. He spit everything out, rinsing his mouth out with his water a few times before taking his bottle of water and taking a few sips.

You rubbed his lower back, "Come on, bedtime, B." He nodded and staggered to the bed, his entire body aching from whatever illness he had. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna put a bag in your trashcan just in case." He nodded, laying down as you found his small trash bags and put it into the black trashcan that he kept in his bedroom for cigarette boxes and beer cans.

You placed the can right next to his bedside table, adjusting the fan speed as he sprawled out, trying his best to cool down. You dug through his drawers full of clothes, finding his gym shorts and you handed them to him. "Here, you're gonna get too hot in your sweatpants." He nodded, shimmying out of the grey material, kicking them off of the bed as he slipped the green shorts on, pulling them up so most of his thigh was exposed.

He flipped the band down, tying the strings loosely. "Need anything else?" He shook his head, putting his arms up, eyes soft but needy. You knew how his dad was, there was no way he took care of his son while he was sick, Susan definitely didn't take care of her stepson and you knew that Billy wouldn't allow Max into his room to help him, just in case she got sick, and Neil blamed him.

You laid beside him. "If you get sick, I'll take care of you too." You nodded, massaging the roots of his hair. "You know, for a guy who hates everyone and everything, you sure do tolerate me." He looked at you, eyes lowering slightly. "Cause I don't hate you, now cuddle with me." You laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist, rubbing his sides with your thumbs.

"When do you think I'll get better? We have school tomorrow." You softly hushed him, "Don't worry about that, I'll figure that out, but we definitely won't be able to go to school." He nodded, patting your back with his right hand, his left lying on his stomach. "Are you gonna be sick again?" He shook his head, "No, my stomach feels fine, it's just everything else." You nodded.

"Good, cause no offense, if you throw up again, I'll be joining you." He laughed before groaning and moaning in pain. "Go to sleep, maybe you'll feel better when you wake up." He nodded, "Are you still gonna be here?" You nodded, "Of course." He nodded, taking the sheet off of his body, his skin slightly shiny from sweat. "I'm hot." You nodded, "I know, B, you still have a fever, you have to sweat it out." He nodded, sprawling out more. "You're squishing my balls, move over a little so I can spread out." You laughed, rolling your eyes before moving so he could get comfortable, and he pulled you back to his side.

"There, future Hargrove babies are safe." You looked up at his face, "You want kids?" He nodded, "I may have had shit parents, but I made a promise to myself that I'd be better than both of them to my kids. If I get to have my own kids, if I can find someone to put up with my bullshit."

"Me,", you wanted to say, but instead you just nodded. "I'm sure you'll find someone one day, we're still in high school, we don't need to be thinking about babies right now." He hummed, "Tell that to the girls at school who are already knocked up." You snickered, "Think one of them is carrying a future Hargrove?" He shook his head, "Fuck no, I wrap up. I'm not risking it right now; I'm trying to get out of here after I turn eighteen." You nodded.

"Come with me, leave with me when I do. We'll go to California or somewhere in Illinois so I can keep an eye on Maxine still." You nodded, "I'll think about you."

No, you wouldn't, there was nothing to think about. You spent your entire life in Hawkins, you needed to get out.

He nodded, rubbing his fingers into your back, almost like he was giving you a massage as he shut his eyes. He was trying to soothe himself, his mind running wild, his thoughts were mainly about you and when you'd leave him, you'd get sick of his bullshit. Maybe he'd snap at you one day and you'd stop being friends with him.

It pained him to even think about that because he was a loner, you wouldn't think he was if you looked at the people he hung around at school but outside of it, he was never with those people unless it was at a party, but you were always around. The two of you spent numerous nights with each other a week, always got breakfast on the weekends, he helped your dad work on cars at his shop for extra cash.

Your dad saw through Billy's facade whenever you were around, he had even told your mom about the way that Billy looked at you, and between the two of them, they knew it was just a matter of time before Billy was showing up at the house as your boyfriend instead of friend.

He looked down at you, your own eyes shut, your forehead against his ribs. He smiled, something he mainly did around you, as he continued to rub your back, shutting his eyes once more, trying to calm his heart, and he cleared his mind as he fell asleep.

[hwasdvlly]

Joy | j.wooyoung

ꨄ summary: as a child at heart, he takes his family to a magical place.

ꨄ pairing: wooyoung x fem!reader

ꨄ genres: romance, family, and fluff

ꨄ word count: 0.8k words

ꨄ warnings/tags: none. established relationship. idol!wooyoung, non-idol!reader, married couple, wooyoung is the cutest father

ꨄ a/n: yay!! i finally got the chance to write again! wooyo made me soft in this one

��Hello, Atiny!”

A bubbly voice from a handsome, cute, sweet, talented, and hot man waves at the phone. 

Wooyoung begins to talk about today’s adventure. “I am in the hotel bathroom because I just got done showering and ready to head out with my little family. I would’ve made the members come along, but they denied it because they wanted me to have a good time. Ever since we’ve been touring, I haven’t seen my family for a while. To my surprise and happiness, the love of my life and the babies came out here to see me.” 

He sighs softly because he still can’t believe his wife is doing it for him and the kids. Wooyoung continues, “I am truly blessed to have amazing people in my life. So, to make it up to them, I bought Disneyland tickets. Woohoo!” He does a tiny fist bump in the air. “And yes, Atiny. Your Wooyo is taking you there.” He nods his head earnestly with a wide smile.

The video transitions from wet-haired Wooyoung in pajamas to a much dapper Wooyoung. He is dressed in a yellow button-up, ripped denim jeans, and tennis shoes. The man goes for something casual because he wants to feel and look comfortable. He reveals himself through a full mirror in the hotel room. 

“I don’t usually wear bright colors, but I figured it was appropriate for a place with excitement,” Wooyoung stated. He gingerly brushes his long bangs that frame his face. “I am keeping this a little longer. I think it’s my favorite out of all hairstyles.” Not only he, but his wife agrees. You like how super soft his hair is. 

He then hears high yet adorable singing voices. Wooyoung turns his attention to the noise. A grin etched on his rosy lips. He sees you putting on matching outfits for the kids. 

The Jung Twins are the prince and princess of ATEEZ. 

Wooyoung moves his attention back to the phone. He still has that smile. “Y/N has Woobin and Wonhee dressed as Mickey and Minnie Mouse.” The father couldn’t stop looking at his angels. He predicts the uncles will die of cuteness once he takes millions of pictures. Woobin and Wonhee have their father’s gorgeous eyes and inherit his playful behavior. As much as the members find it cute, they believe it’s uncanny. 

Little Wooyoungs can cause more chaos. However, the guys love them to death. 

“Is everyone done?” Wooyoung asked his family.

“Yes, appa!” The little ones answered in unison. 

“We are ready!” You joined your kids.

He shifts his gaze from his gaze to his beautiful wife. You are matching his yellow top but with a pretty sundress. Wooyoung is oblivious about being mesmerized by you that he forgets he is still recording. Soon enough, he clears his throat and yells out. “Let’s go!” 

The munchkins trailed behind Wooyoung like ducklings in a line. You happily giggled at how they’ll forever follow their dad.

In the vehicle, Wooyoung tells the viewers they are heading to Disneyland while listening to ATEEZ. During the drive, he shows a bit of his kids singing. The twin’s favorite song is Utopia because it brings them comfort. Also, they love to sing along to Uncle Seonghwa’s high-note. 

An hour later, the family arrived at the amusement park. Wooyoung got greeted by a few Atinys when entering. Plus, they recognized you and the twins. Wooyoung heard the fans yell they wished them the best of luck as a family. 

“Thank you!” 

The idol gives his appreciation for his fans’ love. He sends them a finger heart, and they return the gesture. 

Wooyoung turns on his phone to film more videos. He has you record him walking with the kids. Woobin and Wonhee hold one of their father’s hands and swing them back n forth. Wooyoung speaks, “I feel like a little boy again. I missed coming to places like this. But I am grateful to experience it with my family."

"Right, guys?” He looks down at his children. Wonhee nods and flashes a cheery smile. “Appa! The castle is so pretty!” Woobin points his tiny finger up ahead. Wooyoung might’ve melted on the spot. 

His babies are too cute!

Overall, the four were having endless fun. Wooyoung and his family went on thrilling rides, took pictures with Disney characters, ate delicious food, and gravitated to the park’s beauty. For the final shot of his vlog, Wooyoung records the fireworks. 

A rainbow of stars in the galaxy blossoms the night. 

Wooyoung stops recording to bring you into a back hug as the kids watch in awe at the bursting colors. He rests his chin on your shoulder. You turned your neck to see him. The fireworks created enough brightness to show your husband’s smiling face. Wooyoung leans close to press his soft, elegant lips onto yours. 

“Do you regret marrying me? I haven’t been there for you, Woobin, and Wonhee.” The husband asked his wife in a solemn voice.

You let out a snicker. “Of course not! I vowed to love and care for the biggest baby in the world. Plus, raising the angels of our lives.” Despite his music career, you tell your husband you’ll always be there for him.

Wooyoung's content smile never left his face. 

[pwacifistxo]

“your my dream girl” ✮ — Manjiro Sano → tokyo revengers. F!reader

༘⋆ In which mikey can’t keep his eyes off you .ᐟ (he’s so cute pls)

tw: swearing.

⋆ “Sometimes i wondered how i ended up dating him. Him who is a gang leader, him who eats a lot and is childish, Mikey. Don’t get me wrong, l love him more than anything in this cruel world. But now that I think of it, sitting alone in my bedroom at 2 am because my mind is still awake, it actually baffles me more than anything, you know? It just didn’t feel real. No it felt surreal. God he was such a pain but he was the sweetest boy when it came to me so it didn’t matter right?”

— The faint glow of the moonlight from your window emanated a silver glow onto the room you dwelled in, the clock beside your exhausted form on the nightstand read ‘4:30 am’ now. Seriously you were thinking so much you didn’t realise how late it had gotten. Fuck your mind was killing you, can’t you just fall asleep already?!

ring ring .ᐟ

The familiar sound of your phone vibrating almost immediately dragged you out of your thoughts making you jump and sit upright, sighing heavily as you looked around for your phone until you realised you were laying on it.

With a dramatic groan you ran your fingers through your messy hair and your droopy pupils drifted to the bright screen and the familiar name that read ‘mickey mouse<3’

Why in the hell was he face timing you at this hour? You shouldn’t even be surprised because it was so typical of him to do shit like this. He also sent 80 more messages.

You got up and made your way to the bathroom setting your phone on the shelf near your sink, answering it in the process of tying your hair back because you might aswell get ready for school right?

(After brushing and washing your face) As you were setting up all the products you needed your gaze flickered to him and he had the biggest grin on his face, like a child who had just gotten an overload of candy for Halloween.

“Y/n!” Mikey squealed and you grimaced turning down the volume of your phone because he was being too loud and it echoed in your bathroom.

“so loud— my parents are asleep y’know?” I whisper yelled but I couldn’t help the smile that creeped up on my face at just his excitement on seeing me when he did everyday.

“I missed you thoughh” He whined dragging out his words, but he obliged his voice quieting just as you told him, watching as you organised your stuff.

“I missed you too, I expected you to be asleep though. It’s really early.” You mumbled obviously focused on making sure your stuff were in the right place since you had a lot of time to get ready.

“came back from doing gang shit.” He joked and you just now noticed that he was wearing his toman jacket that draped over his shoulders on top of the white loose shirt he wore.

“Fantastic way to put it.” You replied sarcastically laughing softly at his childishness as you observed him throw up gang signs to the camera. Your focus however returned back to doing your skin care, gently rubbing the condiments onto your face your eyes fixated on the mirror.

‘5:06 am’

Silence, just silence could be heard right now as you were brushing your hair in the mirror. Your eyebrows furrowed at the odd change but you brushed it off not expecting anything of it, maybe he went to sleep? You couldn’t be bothered to check right now.

“5:20 am”

Wait, it was getting really weird, if he was asleep you would hear the quiet snores seeping through your phone speaker. That’s what your thoughts told you. You weren’t worried; more like concerned, they were pretty much the same words but concerned just sounded better in this situation.

“5:40 am”

Okay seriously, what the fuck was he doing that got him so quiet like that. Your curiosity got the best of you and you set down the serum you were previously using on your face. Glancing at the bright screen.

Was he sleeping? No. Eating dorayaki? No. Annoying Emma for fun while she was sleeping? No. His void-less eyes were staring straight into the depths of your soul through the camera. His blonde locks falling over his face. He must’ve untied his hair while I was busy.

You couldn’t tell what he was thinking or how he was feeling, his face was pretty much blank but after you called his name a few times to regain his attention you instantly noticed his soft lips twisting up into an adoring smile.

Oh, he was admiring you this entire time.

“You’re creepy.” You muttered adjusting your phone to an angle in which it wouldn’t fall.

“You’re beautiful.” He replied his voice increasing in volume slightly almost like he wanted me to hear his exact words.

“I love you.” You said breaking out of character instantly, your eyes softening, knowing you couldn’t keep on with your sarcastic comments because he always knew how to bring out the best in you

“I love you more y/n, lemme pick you up yeah?” Mikey said not even bothering to grab his hair tie as he immediately got up and grabbed his device quietly stepping out of his room careful not to wake up his grandpa or his sister.

You nodded, humming in response so he knew you had agreed holding your own phone and returning to your room not forgetting to switch off the light of your bathroom.

You watched inaudibly as he puckered his lips and pressed a kiss on the camera before ending the call before you could even react or utter a word left with the nostalgic feeling of butterflies he only gave you that blossomed inside of you. —

꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ — ˗ˋˏ All While Mikey was rushing out of the door, not caring about his disheveled look to go pick up his girl. ˎˊ˗

༘⋆ thank you for reading lovelies! Enjoy your day and remember to eat, drink and get rest. <33

[collapsedglasshouses]

Consequences || Noah Sebastian x Reader [Part 3]

Part 1 - Part 2

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Summary: After not hearing from Noah for weeks, Y/N finds herself at a wedding with the boys.

Warnings: swearing, a tiny bit of angst, tension, mentions of previous sexual events, MDNI, alcohol consumption, let me know if I forgot something :)

A/N: Hello my beautiful people. I wrote this chapter last night. All at once. My head was completely empty after that. Please don't hate me for the cliffhanger ._. Please let me know how you liked this chapter! Enjoy c:

It’s been two weeks since the eventful night that ended with you under Noah’s bed. To your surprise Nick didn’t catch you, not even when you nearly sneezed because of the dust under Noah’s bed. But to your disappointment you didn’t talk with Noah about this whole thing. In all honesty you didn’t even talk at all. The day after the event, you got called by your landlord that your apartment was ready to be lived in again.

That's way you were now, two weeks later, on a thursday, sitting in front of your computer and answering work emails while listening to your upstairs neighbors screaming at each other repeatedly.

When you looked at the clock, it told you it was already time for bed since tomorrow was going to be an important day. One of your childhood friends was getting married this weekend and invited you as well as the boys, since she knew almost everyone out of the group personally except Jolly. But since he almost became everyone's 'service human' she invited him as well.

When you shut down your PC and stretched your back, you couldn't help but think about Noah. You hadn't heard from him in a while. While your brother told you they were working on planing another tour, even going to Europe, you felt kind of sad that he didn't tell you that himself, since you fucking crawled under his bed to escape being caught by your brother.

You almost started to feel something like regret when you stepped into your shower, your mind still infested with the thoughts of Noah's and your 'adventure'. Even though you knew better, you couldn't help feeling like he just used you. It wasn't like Noah had no options, he was the fucking lead singer of a popular metalcore band and looked like the reallife version of Eren Yeager.

It wasn't like you hadn't any options too, having your families genes, but something about Noah just made you feel different.

When you stepped out of the shower, you wrapped a towel around your body before swiping over the fogged up mirror and looking at yourself. Work drained you the last couple of days and you really looked forward to tomorrow since you would be away for almost three days.

So when you packed your bag and finally lay down on your bed, you tried to think about the break you had from your life here for the next couple of days.

Your alarm woke you up at 8 AM. While your plane wouldn't take off until 6 PM, you knew the boys and yourself well enough to give you some extra time to arrive to the airport.

You stood up, put on some music, that being your Bring Me The Horizon playlist today, and began to get ready. First you did your chores and cleaned everything that needed to be cleaned before you would leave for the next days.

Than you made your way to the bathroom at around 11 AM, brushing your teeth, putting on some light make up and than packing the last bit of the things you needed for the wedding.

You almost danced into the kitchen to finally make yourself breakfast, still wearing nothing but a very tiny crop top and mickey mouse panties.

"Time stood still the way it did before" You sang while opening your fridge to grab a milk to pour inside your filled cereal bowl. "It's like I'm sleepwalk-... AAH WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

Out of fear you let your bowl drop to the floor, it making a loud shattering noise while the whole content spread across the kitchen tiles. The intruders, outing themselves as Nick, Folio, Noah and Jolly, laughed violently.

You cursed them out while starting to clean your kitchen and at the same time trying to cover yourself up. "What is wrong with you, guys? I could have been naked! You know I have something called a bell which you can ring to make yourselves known instead of breaking into my stupid apartment, you little fuckers?!"

"That would have been a sight." Jolly joked while standing up with the other boys to help you clean up the mess. "I'll kill you, Karlsson. They'll have to find another guitarist and buy a new guitar because I'll smash yours at your fucking beautiful head." You cursed while wiping up the milk with a rag. You heard Noah laugh behind you, who made it his task to prepare you a new cereal bowl.

"Here you go." He handed you your breakfast. "Sit down and eat, we'll clean the rest."

While you still wanted to set them on fire, you bit back you anger and thanked them for their help before sitting down to eat.

"We wanted to come here early since normally you're always the one being early." Folio explained while sitting down next to you. You took the last spoon. "It's fine but if you do that ever again, I'll take the key from my brother, break it into four pieces and show it up your asses."

"Arousing.", Jolly joked again, causing you to throw the paper work, laying on the kitchen counter, at him.

"Oh, we didn't tell you." Nick started his sentence. "Davis is waiting outside in the car. He offered to drop us of at the airport."

You sighed while cleaning up your bowl, before making your way to your bedroom, getting dressed in something comfortable, grabbing your bag and your dress for the wedding, before heading out of your apartment, not even looking back at the boys. They quickly followed you.

At 5:45 PM you found yourself getting onto the plane and soon realised you were seated next to Noah, meaning you would spent the next five and a half hours sweating out of nervousness.

The first thirty minutes you didn't say a word. Just looked straight ahead and thought about not thinking about Noah which resulted in (oh wonder) thinking about Noah.

The next thirty minutes you tried to listen to music while reading a book, but after you read a spicy scene while listening to The Death of Peace of Mind, you gave that up too.

The next ten minutes you shifted uncomfortably from left to right, causing Noah to finally break the silence. "Are you okay?" His tone gave away that he was in fact slightly annoyed by your actions.

"Why shouldn't I be okay?", you asked finally sitting comfortable and looking him in the eyes. "Because you ignored me for the past hour?" - "Do you have something to say to me?" He stayed silent. "That's what I thought."

You looked straight ahead again, trying to ignore the confused gaze Noah shot you. When he didn't look away for the next five minutes, you glared at him again. "What, Noah?" - "Why are you like this?" He tried to stay as quiet as possible. "Like what?" - "Almost... bitchy?" Your mouth fell open, startled by his words. "What did you just say?" You almost hissed at him. "You heard me." - "Maybe you should think about your own actions before calling me bitchy, Mr. Davis." -

"Oh, don't 'Davis' me, Ruffilo." He shot back and now fully turned to you. You really didn't know how you managed to keep it quiet until now. "Oh, I'm going to continue to 'Davis' you until you realise not messaging someone for weeks who gave you head and than hid under your bed, isn't really 'Noah-worthy', don't you think?" You whisper-shouted at him and were glad that so many people were talking on the plane that the others surely didn't hear your argument.

With that sentence of yours his attitude was slapped out of his body and he began to back down a bit. You knew Noah had a big ego but it was definitely not as big as yours.

It went quiet between you for another thirty minutes, before Noah sighed. "You know, I'm really sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to hurt you. I never would want that."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms before your chest. "But you did." You heard him take a deep breath before he placed a hand on your thigh, instantly giving you goose bumps.

"Please let us talk about this when we come back home. I don't wanna fight with you." He requested honestly, causing you to shortly look at him before gnashing your teeth in consideration. "I don't wanna fight with you either."

He squeezed your thigh for a short moment before smiling at you lightly.

The next hour you spent avoiding the big topic hanging between you and decided catch up since you didn't hear from each other personally for almost two weeks. You didn't even know when it happened but the next thing you knew was when someone pushed your hair out of your face.

"Y/N, you need to wake up." Noah whispers into your ear, causing your neck hair to stand up. "We'll land in a couple of minutes."

When you opened your eyes, you noticed you had leaned against Noah's shoulder in your sleep. You quickly sat up and stretched your back before shooting Noah a shy smile. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that Jolly had noticed what had happened and now was smirking to himself.

When you arrived at the location, which was a mansion-like hotel only booked for the wedding party over the weekend, you were quickly assigned two rooms for the five of you. Since you were all tired and drained from the flight, you decided Nick and Folio would share a room and the rest of you would get the other.

You quickly changed and fell onto your single bed when you got to your room and slept in to the sound of Noah and Jolly chatting before sleep.

You woke up before the boys and decided to get ready before their alarms would go off. So when you came out of the bathroom, showered and only dressed with your towel, you didn't think to hear a 'Good Morning' from Noah, considering it was about twenty minutes before 6 AM.

"Morning." You mumble, slightly overwhelmed by the sight of him. He didn't wear a shirt, fully displaying his tattoos. His arms were crossed behind his head and he shamelessly checked you out.

So while you gathered your clothes, you couldn't help but look at him a couple of times, before returning to the bathroom. Right before you were about to close the door, Noah slipped into the bathroom as well.

"What are you doing?" You whisper-shouted at him, before putting your clothes on the bathroom counter. He also put down his clothes and his towel next to yours.

"If you don't mind I would shower while you put on your make up." He said and before you could answer, he turns away from you to strip out of your clothes, making your eyes widen. "What if Jolly wakes up? What the fuck do you tell him than?" - "He won't wake up" After that sentence he climbed into the shower while you stared at him through the shower glass.

"Sometimes I hate you, Noah Sebastian." - "No, you don't."

You were halfway through your make up when Noah came out of the shower. You swallowed hard while trying your utter best not to stare at him but when he wrapped his towel low around his waist, you couldn't help but shoot him a glance. The way the water drops found their way down his torso sent a wave of heat down your core.

"Do you have something to say?" He asked teasingly. "No, you?" When he said nothing you took a deep breath before applying mascara while he put on some underwear. Right when you placed the mascara back into your make up bag, you felt his hands on your hips, making you sigh.

You closed your eyes when you felt his breath on your neck. "You already look so beautiful, I can't wait to see you in your dress." I can't wait for you to take it off of me. You thought but quickly regained control, clearing your throat and opening your eyes to see Noah already looking at you through the mirror. "You look really good yourself."

"I'm not even wearing clothes." - "As if you don't know how gorgeous you look right now." That was the moment. The first time you saw Noah's cheeks turn into a slight pink color before a small smile crept onto his face. In all those years, this was truly the first time you left him speechless.

He squeezed your hips one last time before mumbling a small 'Thank you.' Than he left the bathroom right in time for Jolly's alarm to go off.

About an hour later the three of you were almost ready when there was a knock on the door.

"We are late." Your brother announced when Noah opened the door for him and Folio but stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing there while braiding a strand of Jolly's hair. "I don't even ask"

"What? Have you seen him? Have you seen his hair?" You defend your actions while you secure his small braided strand with an elastic. After Jolly thanked you, you turned to fully face you brother.

"Wow, you look amazing, Y/N." Nick states while admiring your dress. The motto of the wedding being 'Black/White/Red' gave you the idea do base your outfit off of the iconic Morticia Addams. You wore a long black dress that flattered your curves with slightly too long bat sleeves. Your fingernails matched with your lipstick, both being the same shade of dark red.

"More than amazing." Noah added shooting you an honest smile that made your stomach twist with joy.

You all hurried to make it in time for the ceremony, not having time to catch up with old school friends, since you were already late.

Even though you weren't that close with the bride and groom, only remembering her from school, you had tears in your eyes by the time they exchanged their vows. This didn't go unnoticed by Noah, who slowly but surely grabbed your hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

No matter how delusional that sounded, for a brief moment you thought if there was any future where you would be standing up there with Noah. You quickly shook the thought out of your head by how imaginary the thought sounded but you knew one thing, even if you weren't the wedding couple, Noah would be standing up there with you. There was no way that a universe existed were Noah wasn't in your live. As confusing this whole thing had gotten, there was this one thing you were sure of and from which you would never let yourself be dissuaded.

So you looked at the man you had known for so many years and gave him a smile while squeezing his hand in reassurance.

Around six hours and 30 half-hearted conversations later, you found yourself sitting next to Jolly at your assigned table. "If another person asks me how i've been since school ended, imma drown myself in sparkling wine." You complained to your friend who chuckled at your statement. "I feel with you." You both let your gaze wonder over the party room. A lot of people were pretty wasted, including the bride who was currently dancing to Gangnam Style with her maid of honor. When you looked to her right, you almost choked on your drink. "Fuck, Jolly. You know who this is?" You slightly point your finger at a guy standing at the bar, talking to the groom. "Uhm... no. I don't know anyone except you guys." "That is Michael fucking Baldrow." "Who?" "She slept with that guy when she was... let me think... 18?" Noah answered for you, scaring you a bit before sitting down next to you, looking absolutely done.

"Naaah, was he the one who picked your cherry?" Jolly teased bumping his arm against yours. You almost immediately looked to Noah and with that your fate was decided. You couldn't stop Jolly from putting 1 and 1 together. "NO FUCKING WAY."

You tensed up, shooting a glare at Jolly. "Shut the fuck up." - "Noah and you... No fucking way. This story is getting better everyday." - "I told you to shut up." - "Noah fucking took your virginity?! I can't even breath."

You grabbed Jolly's arm and looked him dead serious in the eye. "If you don't calm down I assure you, this will be your last breath."

Jolly hold his laughter while apologizing to you. You took a deep breath before looking at Noah, who smirked at you. "What, Noah?" - "It's been ten years, I think it is okay if we finally let someone know."

"Nick doesn't know, does he?" Jolly than asks while searching for your brother in the crowd. You all found him standing at the bar, talking to one of his old friends. "No, he doesn't and I think I like it that way." You took a sip from your glass.

"He also doesn't know about the last weeks, does he?" Jolly than asks while smirking, causing Noah and you to ultimately choke on your drinks.

"What did you say?" - "I talked about the fact that you two were definitely fucking on his birthday party." He said that with such a lack of emotion that you weren't sure if he was joking.

You and Noah's eyes met and for a couple of seconds you both seemed to try to process what your friend just set, when he added: "No need for excuses, I also heard that Noah showered while you got ready this morning."

You shot Noah the 'I told you so' glance but before you could defend yourselves, 'Sweet Child of Mine' by Guns 'N' Roses started playing and Jolly forced the two of you on the dance floor, leaving no room to protest.

On the way to the dance floor he managed to catch Folio and Nick and you found yourselves in a circle, dumbly fidgeting around, but with every second passing you forgot about the fact that you couldn't dance and just let go of your worries.

You were here with your bestest of friends. That was everything that mattered to you in this moment.

And than. Than Noah came close to you and whispered in your ear.

"Meet me at our room in five."

What?

READ PART 4 HERE

[hbyrde36]

It's never too late for a second chance

written for the @steddiemicrofic prompt

🍰Cake🍰 wc: 311 | rated: G

“Dinguuus. You in here? It’s time to cut the cake. What are you…” Robin trailed off when she spotted him huddled on the floor of the men’s bathroom

Steve looked up at her, eyes swollen and rimmed in red.

“I can’t do it.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “You already did it, babe.”

He mumbled incoherently.

“What?”

“I didn’t sign it, Rob!”

Steve sighed, rubbing hard at his eyes and relishing the pain it caused. He deserved it after all. He’d gone through with this farce.

“What does that mean?” She asked.

“It means, I signed my name fucking Mickey Mouse on that marriage certificate. It means, it’s invalid. It means, I need you to help me get the hell out of here.”

When the coast was clear Robin escorted him through the kitchen and out the back door of the event hall. 

He glanced around looking for his car, but it was nowhere to be found. Robin had also suspiciously disappeared once he was outside. 

A throat cleared nearby and Steve froze. 

“A little birdie told me you needed a getaway driver.”

It was a voice he never thought he’d hear again outside of his dreams. Not after he’d fucked things up in such a spectacular fashion. 

Steve turned, and gasped at the sight.

Eddie looked good.

The simple black suit he wore was tailored to fit, hugging his body in all the right places. He was standing far too close, and Steve’s mouth went dry.

“You were there, weren’t you? At the church. Why didn’t you object?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to, sweetheart.”

“It’s always been you, Ed. I’m so sorry that I made you feel like it wasn’t”

“Well then,” Eddie began, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “What’dya say we get out of here, big boy?”

[ashdreams2023]

Hey, how are you doing? Do you think you could do some headcanons of Loki about how would his morning routine and night routine be like with a Reader, from already thank you very much!

I’m good honey and of course!

Everyday routine with Loki

He’s not an early bird like Thor but he also doesn’t oversleep, so he wakes up around 8:30 or 9:00 early enough to have breakfast

Takes around 30 minutes in the bathroom to freshen up and apply his skincare because let’s be real he cares

I feel like it depends if you’re one to make breakfast then he would make the table if he’s the one making breakfast you’re kinda just standing there looking pretty

Not the biggest talker in the morning but when he has his tea he starts asking you about your plans for the day

Usually stays in his pjs until like 11 then takes a nice bath and changes to his outside clothes

If you two have plans together he makes sure you’re ready on time, because he doesn’t like being late to things

Likes going on walks in the park with you, also pets every cat he encounters

You have a rule whenever you’re out he pays, no matter what

You may pay for takeout at home but outside you better sit your pretty ass done and enjoy the spoiling

If you have a job, he spends most of the day reading and taking care of his plants, but there is many occasions where you would come home to angry neighbors

He acts all innocent every time too

"You can’t just blow up the neighbors pool!"

"She was using a rude tone with me!"

You two cuddle after you come home from work and it’s his favorite time of the day

Lunch is late most days and sometimes you two just snack away until dinner

By evening he’s back to his comfortable pjs, also he wears those fluffy Cookie Monster slippers around the house

If he goes and does errands know that you will come back home to something new and unnecessarily bought 

And somehow he always has space for this stuff

"I can’t do this anymore!"

"Oh come on! It was on sale too"

"We don’t need a waffle maker!"

"But it has Mickey Mouse on it!"

Honestly you just give up, at least he uses them

After dinner and long conversations about your day he cleans up and reads a little more then finds something else to busy himself with until bed time

He sleeps on the left side of the bed and always cold so he’s always reaching for you during the night for warmth

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This is the most whimsical mid-century modern home I've come across in a long time. It was built in 1957 in Phoenix, Arizona, has 3bd. 2ba, and is listed for $549,900.

This is unlike the perfect MCM homes we usually see. This one looks lived-in. I wonder if the sweat box conveys.

The owners collected and curated quite a collection of MCM decor.

This bump-out is the perfect size for a dining area.

Look at this cute feminine bedroom and the little bath.

This looks like a play room. Are those Mickey Mouse's shorts on the line?

This is so perfect, a genuine 1950s kitchen set.

A little tiki room with a bar.

And, we're let down, b/c we just saw it all decorated, but this is what you get for $550K. An empty house.

Well, there tiki room walls are still up and they left the china cabinet and some pillows. Gee, the fireplace is so bare.

They took the bar, but left some decor and the kiddie pool from outside.

I love the pastel kitchen. The appliances are vintage. Very nice.

Check out the old exhaust fan setup. Looks like they also left a mixmaster.

The main bedroom. I like the floors.

And, it also has an en-suite.

Oh, look they left furniture in here, plus Mickey's clothes and someone's pantaloons, too.

The 2nd bath is colorful.

This room is decorated in a Victorian style.

I don't see a back yard, this is all in the front.

In the back of the house is dirt that was staged to look like a beach.

Spiral stairs go up to this rooftop deck.

Aerial view of the property. I would have to do something with that back yard.

[stone-stars]

Transcript:

Emily: Between finches and Jack Skellington, those are my favorite things to accuse Murph of loving! [Caldwell and Murph laugh] Murph: Yes, that was-- [Emily laughs] Murph: Did we talk about that on the podcast ever? When we were at-- (laughs) When we were at Disneyland one time, and it got super cold, and I was just in a t-shirt and I had to buy a (barely able to get the words out) Jack Skele- Ske-- a Jack Skellington long-sleeve t-shirt? [Emily and Caldwell laugh] Murph: (through laughter) And Emily-- And I-- I was so embarrassed-- 'cause I didn't wanna be one of those-- I didn't wanna-- it was-- Emily: And I made us go in line at the Haunted Mansion so he looked like a super fan? Caldwell: Wait. Murph: (high-pitched) Yeah. Caldwell: Waitwaitwaitwaitwait. It was a long sleeve t-shirt? Murph: Right, right, okay! So, it was the cheapest thing I could buy! [Caldwell and Emily laugh] Murph: Because-- Everything at Disneyland is very expensive! Caldwell: Yeah. Murph: So I was like, I'm not gonna buy, like, a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt, because I'm never gonna wear it. I'm gonna buy a 20 dollar long sleeve t-shirt, 'cause I don't wanna spend 30 or 40 on a hoodie, right? Caldwell: Sure. Murph: So I'm like-- We happened to be by the Haunted Mansion. Caldwell: Natch. Murph: So I bought a Jack Skellington long sleeve t-shirt. But that's kind of a type of dude at Disneyland-- Emily: Didn't you try to wear it inside out? Murph: I did-- I wore it under my t-shirt. Caldwell: (laughs) Was it like a half-turtleneck? I feel like they sell those there and only there. Murph: I was kinda pulling like a Tom DeLonge, from Blink-182. Emily: It was one that had like-- It was-- Caldwell: Okay. Emily: It was one that had like, slightly too-tight of a neck. Caldwell: Okay, yeah. Yep. Murph: So I wore-- I went in the bathroom, I put on the Jack Skellington long sleeve t-shirt, and then I put my t-shirt over it. [Caldwell and Emily laugh.] Caldwell: That's smart! Murph: But then while we were on line for Haunted Mansion, Emily kept lifting my shirt up-- [Everyone laughs] --and telling Jack Skellington that I was a fan! Every statue we saw of him! So-- Caldwell: "My husband loves you." Murph: --Yes, my wife-- my wife does bully me. Both publicly and when it's just us. Emily: I mean, I gotta be honest, in line, there were people who definitely respected you. Caldwell: Right. Can I get, like, a full description of the shirt? Like what are we working with graphic wise? Emily: Like, we're talking-- Okay, all I can talk about is how ill-fitting it was. Which is like: too tight in the wrists. Too tight around the neck. Baggy everywhere else. Murph: It was a real-- It was a real K-Mart fit. Emily: Yeah! Caldwell: This seems like a shirt that was designed to be tucked in. Murph: Yeah, it was-- it's-- it's a shirt for dads with attitudes. Emily: Like, into like some-- I was gonna say, into some baggy dad jeans! That is what it deserved. Caldwell: A baggy daddy. Yeah.

[idyllicbarb]

not impressed

SUMMARY: in your eyes, nothing is special about the lsu quarterback.

WARNINGS: cussing, drinking, smoking, fuckboy!joe, fratboy!joe, cocky!joe, euphoria inspired

- - - -

You're new to LSU, transferring from a small community college back in Georgia. It's only been a few months here in Louisiana for you but things have been good so far. Joining the majorette team and becoming popular around campus. Men want you but you don't want them, too caught up in enjoying your new college life.

You adjust your bra top, gaining looks from a few college boys that were standing around you. Rolling your eyes, you check your phone for any new messages. Somebody at LSU decided to throw a party for the football team, typical. Your majorette teammate, Naomi, had dragged you out the house so you could find yourself a man just for the evening.

But all the dudes at the party right now were either weird or sluts, huge whore bags. That's how a lot of men on campus are, especially the football team. You never understood how girls would just flock to them, only seeing dick and a potential to become a NFL wife. Shit like that never amused you, you have big dreams too, who wants to be cooped up in a house all day with three to four kids plus having to cook and clean? Yeah no.

Naomi walks back in the living room from using the bathroom, re-joining you on the couch, "You okay?" She asks. Before you can answer her, a loud group of men enter the house and you just know it's the football team.

You roll your eyes before sending a knowing look Naomi's way, she laughs silently before scooting closer to you. "I'm fine, this party is about to give me a headache though," You mutter and Naomi hums in response, "Well, we can always go back to the dorm."

"No, no, I never go out and I want to. It's college, we're supposed to be having a good time." You say in response. Justin and Ja'Marr walk in the living room, giving daps to people they know before heading over to you and Naomi.

You may have not cared for the football team but you've grown fond of Justin and Ja'Marr. They're like two bad ass twins. Ja'Marr shoves your forehead making you slap his wrist in response, "You asshole!"

"We ain't know y'all was coming. Especially you, Y/N, you an old lady, you probably got old people teeth in ya mouth right now." Justin teases gaining a laugh from out of Ja'Marr.

"Don't push it, I'll flick your little ass." You push Justin back slightly with your foot. He fakes a hiss before laughing again, "Stop playing before I get my boy, Joseph on yo ass."

"Ooh! See me personally, Y/N, I would never go for that." Ja'Marr shrugs his shoulders.

"You go for that and then some, Ja'Marr," Naomi rebuttals making you laugh. He sucks his teeth before tapping Justin on the shoulder, they both walk off weirdly.

"Losers," You mumble under your breath and Naomi giggles at your comment. A few seconds they return with the hottest topic on campus, Joe Burrow.

"Keep messing with us and our dawg Joey B gon Mickey Mouse two-piece y'all ass," Justin says and you look over at Naomi before the both of y'all bust out in laughter.

"Y'all weak, I can beat y'all up, easily, light weight." You reply standing up but only to get softly pushed back on the couch by Joe.

"You haven't even seen me fight."

"Well first off, I wasn't speaking to you, but since you opened your mouth, I don't need to see you fight. You look like you'd get beat up." You tell Joe, gaining attention from a few of his friends and teammates.

"Joe you gon' let her talk to you like that?" You hear somebody ask from the kitchen. You stand up getting in Joe's face, "He sure is, because "Joe" isn't going to do a got damn thing to me."

Joe turns his attention over at you as Justin and Ja'Marr slowly back away from the scene. "It'd be best if you watch your mouth."

"Is that suppose to be a threat?" You question while about to to take off your shoes. Naomi stands up and grabs your hand, leading you upstairs into a random empty bedroom.

"Girl! You can't be talking to Joe like that." Naomi blurts out and you turn your head at her. "Y'all scared of him or something? He doesn't faze me."

"Nobody disrespects him-

"How was I disrespecting him by telling him the truth? Do you seriously think he'd win a fight?" You tilt your head meeting Naomi's eyes, she looks away attempting not to answer.

"Exactly, just because he's known doesn't mean anything to me. You should know this by now."

Fixing your hair in your pocket mirror, you catch Naomi staring at you. "What?"

"You know he's going to be on your ass now, right?"

You look at Naomi, "No, no, I don't know, enlighten me."

"He's just like the big guy around here and everyone just respects him. You might be the only person who treated Joe like he's a regular human being," Naomi stated.

"He is a regular human being!"

- - - -

You're currently sitting on top of the kitchen counter drinking some jungle juice. After you and Naomi's conversation, you both decided to rejoin the party. You gained a few looks from people who are believed to be close friends of Joe. You don't care though, you weren't going to treat Joe as if he's superior because in your eyes, he's not.

Joe walks in the kitchen with a woman on his arm, she stumbles over her feet before putting her head down when a few people snicker. You shake your head, turning your attention back to your phone.

"You look lonely," The three words make you snap your head at a man who looks drunk out his mind.

"I look completely fine, do you?"

Joe moves past the two of you, mumbling, "Shouldn't you be anywhere but here?" under his breath. You laugh quietly before focusing your attention back on the dude in front of you.

Before the dude can even reply to your question, Joe taps him on the shoulder and the two of them walk off somewhere. You roll your eyes, waiting on Naomi to get done flirting with whatever man she can have for the night.

This party is lame, and you're two seconds away from beating thee infamous Joe Burrow up. Such a prick! Getting mad at you for not playing with him. Such a dweeb in your eyes.

Justin and Ja'Marr slide next to you, "Yo!"

You laugh before sitting up straight, "I haven't seen you two all night. Must've been getting pussy."

Ja'Marr shrugs playfully before looking away, letting you know that he indeed, got pussy during this party. "That ain't the topic, what needs to be talked about is you and our boy, Joe."

"What about him?"

Justin scoffs, "What about him? You can't be talking to him like that! He big dawg. We was tryin' put y'all on with each other, but you damn near punked him in front of his folks!"

"Justin's right. He coulda had you drooling for him at any moment." Ja'Marr adds in his two cents making you squint your eyes at the both of them.

"Ain't he a fuckboy? He's a blunt, passed around!" You loudly say making people snap their head in your direction.

"Nah! Nah! Don't be saying that." Justin puts a hand over your mouth when Joe appears back in the kitchen.

"Who a fuckboy?" He asks, the whole time he's staring directly at you. Joe knows you said it, he just wants to hear the words come from you. But you can't because Ja'Marr is currently trying to make up some kind of lie.

"See, you gon' get yourself caught up, Y/N. Real shit, Joe don't play them games." Justin tells you before mushing you back softly.

"Fuck yo' teammate who is also your friend, respectfully."

- - - - -

"Wanna take a swim?" A frat boy asks you, you nod your head slowly stripping off your clothes and placing them near Naomi's belongings.

You grab the dudes hand and walk towards the pool, people staring at the both of you murmuring words under their breath.

Joe and his teammates are smoking cigars when he sees you stepping into the pool, "Just what the fuck are you doing?"

You snap your eyes over at him, "You see I'm in the pool, cunt." People start oohing and Joe's face turns red. Never has a woman disrespected him constantly.

His teammate, Tyler, taps Joe on his shoulder, "You gon' have to handle that." Joe's friends murmur words in agreement. He peers his over at you again, watching you attract people with the way you're moving your body.

"Yeah, you right. I can't take the disrespect for too long."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you like the girl, Joseph." A child-hood friend of Joe's, Derrick, says. Joe hears a few people agree with his friend, sucking his teeth, Joe flicks Derrick off.

- - - - -

The party is slowly coming to an end and you're grabbing all of your belongings when suddenly Joe walks up to you. "You know, it's very disrespectful to call somebody a cunt.

"Hm, am I suppose to care?"

"No.. but I-

"Exactly, I knew you weren't slow! Have a good night.. Mr. Burrow." You give Joe a fake smile, walking off to your car with Naomi trailing behind you. Joe can't help to grin, his first time ever being told off by a woman. He's impressed but you're not.

"I think he's definitely into you," Naomi mumbles once you two reach your car. You hum, not really thinking too much into the thought. Maybe, maybe, Joe might have a crush on you. But who cares, certainly not you,  right?

[annoyingpastryineyeliner]

[steviewashere]

If It Has to Happen, Let It

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Emetophobia, Vomiting, Panic/Anxiety Attack, Negative Stimming as a Form of Self-Harm/Self-Regulation Tags: Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Sick Steve Harrington, Traumatized Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Migraines, Steve Harrington Has Emetophobia, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Cuddling, Steve Harrington Has Good Parents

Okay, I wrote this while enduring a migraine. So we'll see how good this actually is. But I couldn't shake this idea, so here it is. Also, this is based on experience and I have pretty debilitating migraines and emetophobia. I'm asking y'all to be kind about this, that's all. <3

Read On AO3

🤢—————🤢 Steve used to have normal, everyday headaches when he was younger. They’d last a few hours. Be kind of an annoyance, prickling him with an undercurrent of ache. Sometimes make it hard to focus on tasks at hand. But they weren’t life changing. They didn’t affect every aspect of his day to day life. They didn’t linger or take over or knock him down for the count. His headaches used to be normal.

Now they aren’t. They’re debilitating. Humiliating. All consuming.

It wasn’t the concussions that resulted in the migraines, surprisingly enough. Everybody seems to think that and they’re not wrong, not really. But his mom had them. And his dad had them. And his nana had them.

The migraines started out as being mainly genetic. It sucked, sure. They’d come and go. Once every few months, maybe. At most. Just for a day. Isolate him to his bedroom. Leave him to spread on his bed with an ice pack on his forehead. That sort of thing.

Then the concussions came. One after the other after the other. They got worse. Astronomically worse. It wasn’t just a day that the migraines would hang around. It was multiple days. It was an entire week. Even once, it was three weeks in a row. He was sensitive to everything, sometimes nothing. The smell of Robin’s perfume. The sound of Dustin’s voice. The lights inside Family Video, inside Scoops Ahoy, inside his own house. He’d hole away. Lay in the expanding darkness of his bedroom. Curtains closed. Bed stripped of his sheets. Ice on his head, under his head, wrapped around his neck. He’d sleep shirtless, sleep nude, sleep fully clothed—his body couldn’t regulate. Would barely get up because the world would swirl around him like he was standing in the eye of a hurricane.

Worst of the worst, though, was the nausea.

When he was little, he remembers his nana taking him out for his seventh birthday. Pancakes—Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes, topped with fruit and whipped cream and as much maple syrup as he wanted. He drank orange juice, bubbled the liquid with his straw, took bites of his nana’s egg salad, giggled and snickered and cried with joy. It was fun. A good day. And then no less than eight hours later, he couldn’t keep himself standing. Could only kneel, stripped to his dinosaur themed underwear, hair stringy to his head, his mom cooing softly in his ear—hurling and spewing and coughing on and off for hours. Until, eventually, he landed himself a pretty uncomfortable spot in the emergency room, IV in his vein, and tears on his cheeks.

He remembers the all consuming fear when his stomach would flip. When his mouth would begin to salivate and his throat would burn with the bile that came up through burps, and how his hands would shake. Remembered all the times between being seven and now where he’d kneel on the tile of his bathroom, head stuck inside his toilet bowl, clamping to the porcelain with his slick palms, heaving until there was nothing left to give. And then he’d hack some more, just to see if he was done. If it was over. If he could be relieved instead of walking on glass.

He’d ruined plenty of Pyrex bowls. Dirtied plenty of blankets. Stained several mattresses. He’s apologized through tears as his mom helped clean up the carpet in his bedroom. Let her pet his sweaty hair and say it was alright, even though he knew it wasn’t. Even though it would scare her when he’d dissolve into hysterics.

Steve doesn’t do nausea. He doesn’t do throwing up. He doesn’t even do burps. That’s how afraid he is.

The migraines don’t help. If anything, they make him anxious. Make him trapped inside his own body, shaking and breathing shallowly. Knobby knees and burning tears. Flapping his hands out at his sides as if the stupid movement could will the feeling away. Sometimes, when he’d get really upset and he couldn’t calm down, he’d take to slamming his closed fists over his thighs. Trying to distract himself with another sensation. Something else that should bother him. Steve would slam his palms into his chest. He’d claw at his stomach until he’d either bleed or tire himself out. Would tangle his fingers into his hair and pull, hard enough to leave long strands in his palms. He’d hurt and hurt and hurt until he could forget what it was like to have bile coat his throat.

And he knows, by all means does he know, that to any ordinary person he looks like a basket case. He knows that sometimes it seems like he’s overreacting. That he’s making something out of nothing. But he can’t help it. He can’t help the little freakouts or the rapid breathing or the sound of skin smacking against skin.

Sometimes he knows how to regulate. When he’s feeling even the slightest bit sick. Open a window, stick his head out and take several long gulps of cold night air. Stick himself under a near third degree burning hot shower. (Because his mom had said that hot water helps. Not this hot, but she doesn’t need to know.) He keeps a case of ginger ale. Has a new addiction to peppermint gum. Shoves his big head between his knees and just prays. He’ll say over and over in his head: “You will not throw up. You don’t need to throw up. You aren’t sick. You won’t throw up.” 

It’s all worked. Kept himself puke-free since sixth grade.

But now he gets migraines.

And today’s the worst one he’s ever had.

——— If he doesn’t open his eyes, he won’t throw up. Because if the light gets in his eyes, the pain will worsen. And if the pain worsens, he’ll throw up. But he won’t. Because he doesn’t do that.

It’s 9am on a Monday. He woke up nearly four hours ago, head throbbing, lights infuriating, and body aching. His sheets have been pulled away. And his blanket is tossed somewhere on the floor. Down to his underwear and nothing else. Very briefly, he considers stripping those off, too. He’s sweating, even though the A/C is on, even though his window is open, even though it’s something like forty-three degrees out.

He can’t take the smell of himself. Or the pillow under his head. Laundry detergent, sweat, and the lingering ghost of cologne. His stomach is churning like crazy. Every little movement makes his insides flare. And he thinks, at any moment, he’ll upchuck onto his mattress. Maybe he should go lay on the cold bathroom tiles, wrap himself around the base of the toilet.

I won’t throw up, he thinks behind the deep furrow of his eyebrows, I can’t throw up. I don’t need to. Don’t throw up, Steve.

He should get up. Get an icepack. Something to snack on. His medicine.

But if he stands up, he’ll be slammed by vertigo. If he’s dizzy, he’ll throw up. And if he throws up, he probably won’t stop. And then his heart will try to burst out of his chest and he’ll still be throwing up and then he’ll have a heart attack all by himself, but he’ll be covered in his own puke. He gently turns his head into his pillow, where the cold is running from him, and groans.

Something clatters to the ground downstairs. Followed by the thud of several footsteps. But he can’t get up. Vertigo means throwing up. I won’t throw up, I won’t throw up, he repeats, a mantra.

Then, all at once, his bedroom door is swung wide open and the bright amber light in the hallway is bleeding into his room. It’s lighting up the hand by his head, the hairs dangling over his eyes. He doesn’t bite back the whine that erupts from him. Somebody’s walking closer, their shadow overbearing and large over him. Their body heat like the lick of a freshly lit campfire. He’s burning in their orbit—crisping, boiling, ready to be eaten alive.

“Christ, Steve,” the person states. The person is Eddie, once he hears the voice back in his head. A familiar rasp in his voice. And that’s when Steve picks up on the scent of a recently lit cigarette. He kind of wants to reach up and strangle Eddie, choke him until he promises to never smoke again. Maybe this is how Robin feels about him, too. “It’s fucking freezing in here. Why is your window open?” He steps away towards the window, the light coming back full force. “You’ve got a shift today, y’know? Robin’s already there. Called me to come get you because you’re late and—“

“Shut up, Eddie,” Steve finally gets himself to grumble. It doesn’t have the bite he wants it to have. Weak and small and breaking. He opens his mouth again to add more, but his mouth begins to salivate. He shuts up, swallows and swallows and…It doesn’t work. His stomach clenches harshly and he whimpers, hand traveling down towards his overheated middle, digging into his soft flesh, nails sharp and biting. I won’t throw up. Don’t throw up.

Eddie heaves a disappointed sigh. “Dude, you have to go to work. I’m sorry if you didn’t get enough sleep, but you have to go.”

Steve’s chest rises and falls a little too quick. He can’t catch his breath. Can sense the tremor in his hand through the back of his neck. Too hot. Sweating. Drooling onto his pillow. Kind of wants to cry, but can’t do that. Can’t do that in front of Eddie—he won’t understand. Won’t be able to calm him down like his mom can or give him words of comfort like his dad sometimes does.

Instead of dignifying Eddie’s conversation with a response, Steve sits up hastily. Legs dangling over the edge of his mattress. Vision swimming. Tears prickle in the corners of his eyes. His stomach swoops deep, then sloshes up towards his lungs as if it’s trying to break free. The throbbing is back full force, pulsating and overwhelming. He can’t see, he can’t breathe, he can’t get himself to wade away the nausea. I won’t. I can’t throw up. I can’t. I can’t.

He groans, reaching up to the sides of his head, gripping himself harshly. Fingers in his hair, pulling and tugging and pulling and tugging. Head tucked towards his knees. Swallowing and swallowing and…He tugs as hard as he can on his hair, eliciting a loud whine from his throat.

The window doesn’t close. The curtains don’t even move. But Eddie does. His body swarming Steve, his heat engulfing him as if he’s a house on fire. Hands flittering out. “Steve? You okay?”

“Mi—Mi—“ Steve stutters before gagging. He cries through a quick exhale from his nose. He can’t make it all stop. His heart’s beating too fast. His chest hurts from how fast his breathing has gone. He can’t. He can’t.

“Sweetheart? Are you gonna be sick? I can get you to the bath—“

“No, no, no,” Steve rushes out. “Not gonna—Won’t throw up. Can’t.” He tries to take a breath through his mouth, but with his lips agape and his tongue working to make words, saliva floods out of him. The heat of his own spit warm on his thigh, it glistens in the little bit of light from the hallway. “Head,” he whimpers, “hurts.”

“Shit,” Eddie softly curses. He crouches down in front of Steve, his hands floating above his trembling knees. “It’s a migraine. Okay,” he whispers, “what can I do, sweetheart?”

Steve sobs. “I dunno,” he wetly murmurs. Another wave of nausea crashes over him and he leans forward with his next gag. He’s not going to throw up, but the more the pain increases and the more his stomach flips and the warmer he gets, he may just do the opposite. That thought alone makes him cry harder. He detangles his fingers from his hair, flaps his hands out in front of him like mimicking a bird, and then thrashes them down onto his thighs. In front of him, Eddie visibly winces. But he does it again, harder.

He can’t see that well, but notices the way Eddie’s hands scramble out to stop him. But he flinches away. Fisting his hands tighter, enough that his nails bite into his palms, and punches down on the surely forming bruises. “Steve, stop it. You’re hurting yourself, stop it,” Eddie scolds firmly. But Steve doesn’t. Eddie visibly is shaken up, rocking forward on his heels, hands stuck between actions, and his voice warbles when he speaks. “I think,” he states slowly, “we should get you to the bathroom. And you should go ahead and try to flush out your system—“

“No!” Steve yelps with a whine. “No, I don’t need’a—“ He takes a quick, shuddering breath. Chest caving in with his panic. His thighs are sore and his hands sting. But he slams down again. “—don’t wanna—“

“Stevie,” Eddie murmurs lowly, placating, “you’ll feel better if you let it out. I promise, sweetheart, you will feel better, okay? I’ll sit with you. Put a cold rag on your neck. I’ll—“

Steve’s saliva dribbles from his mouth again, more this time. His stomach gurgles. And it’s like somebody has an iron grip on his brain, squishing the organ between their fingers, toying with it like Play-Doh. I’m going to throw up, he realizes in panic. “Eds—Ed, ‘m gonna—Gonna—“

Gently, though purposefully, Eddie grabs Steve by the elbows. Half-walking, half-dragging them to Steve’s ensuite. He shoves them down in front of the open toilet bowl. And lays his left palm flat on the center of Steve’s back, wincing at the first jarring wet-heave that comes from the back of Steve’s throat.

He pets his palm up and down Steve’s spine. “Get it out, Stevie. I’m right here. You’ll be okay.”

With Eddie’s words and the soothing touch, Steve finally allows himself to expel. Bile burns through him. And he shakes through the first splatter into the toilet bowl’s water. He could never stand the smell, the sound, or the look of vomit. Yet here it is, sour and salty and yellow. Chunky and swirling and fresh. The next heave makes him start crying again, but he doesn’t care anymore. Doesn’t care about breaking down in front of Eddie because he now has to deal with this—the overwhelming anxiety that floods through him, out of him with each hurl. The rabid beating against his ribs and the gasps through sobs.

There’s so much coming out of him. Too much.

“Jesus,” Eddie mutters, “holy…You’re okay, Steve.” He leans across to the toilet paper dispenser for a few sheets. Folds it with one hand and wipes away at Steve’s face between short bursts of vomit. Barely draws his hand away before it starts up again.

Steve spits big globs of saliva-puke. Angles his head so Eddie can catch his eyes. Meekly says, “‘M sorry, Ed. ‘M sorry.”

“Shhh,” Eddie soothes. “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You gotta do this, it’s alright.”

“Yucky,” Steve sighs. “’T’s…I hate this.” He closes his eyes as vertigo slams sideways at him, T-boned by the dizziness. Takes a burbling breath through his mouth.

“If you have more, let it out, Steve. It won’t do you any good to keep it in.”

He cries softly with his next exhale. “‘M sorry,” he keens. And then he’s convulsing forward with his next gag.

Time stretches, it feels like, for hours. His knees ache and his skin is cold and his hands are slipping with how wet the toilet bowl is from his sweat. Throat sore and stomach empty. But the malaise from gagging for so long lingers, making him dry-heave when there’s nothing left to give. He rests his forehead over his left forearm over the back of the toilet seat. Sniffs and keeps his eyes closed. Shaking through the last bit of it.

Distantly, the sound of the sink goes off next to him. He’s so out of it, he didn’t even realize that Eddie stood up and left him momentarily. Wishes he could leave this, too. Wishes he could step outside of his body and not experience this anymore, for the rest of his life, for the rest of time itself.

Eddie crouches down beside him again. Gently grasps him by the chin and pulls him up to be face to face. He runs the lukewarm rag over his chin, his lips, and under his nose. “Good job getting it out, Stevie,” he whispers, “how are you feeling now?”

“Tired,” Steve mumbles, “and gross and in pain.”

He gets a nod in return. “Okay,” Eddie mutters, “let me get your migraine things, alright? I’ll take you back to bed.”

Steve sighs. Closes his eyes in exhaustion. “‘M embarrassed, too.”

The rag and Eddie’s hand slowly comes off his face. The cloth is crumpled in Eddie’s palm when Steve glances. “Why’re you embarrassed, Stevie? It’s okay to throw up. It’s fine.”

He shrugs. “Just—“ And Steve looks down towards his lap. At the mottled bruises on his thighs, peeking out from his two day old underwear. The light scratch lines on the soft give of his belly. “—It’s stupid, isn’t it? I’m afraid of vomiting. Of vomit. I—I have a meltdown like a toddler when I feel like ‘m gonna puke and…and I get all hysterical and whiny and I sob like crazy. And I—I dunno. I was overreacting and I made you have to take care of me and it’s just…I’m just being dumb.”

“Hey,” Eddie says softly, that scolding edge back. “It’s not dumb, Steve. Vomiting is traumatic, I get it. And—Before you try and interrupt me—you didn’t make me help you. I helped you because I noticed that you were struggling. And had I not, you probably would’ve made a big mess in your room. I wasn’t going to just leave you in a state like that.”

“But it is stupid, Eds,” Steve urges, voice wavering. “It’s stupid because I’m a grown fucking adult. And I should be able to handle this. I should—“ The tears come back. “—Just fucking look at me. Crying, again. I’m so—“ He groans in frustration, fingers clenching into his palms, cutting them up again.

Gently, Eddie unfurls Steve’s hands. “Look at me, Steve.” He does. Fiercely, softly, Eddie continues, “You are sick right now. You didn’t feel good. You were scared. You were anxious. In no way, shape, or form were you stupid for reacting like this. Alright? Steve, you were overwhelmed with it all. I’m not going to judge you because you’re afraid of vomit. The only thing I’m concerned about is the hitting, but we can talk about that a different time, okay?”Eddie’s thumbs work tenderly into the backs of Steve’s hands. There’s a glimmer of protectiveness in his eyes and Steve latches onto it. Lets himself begin to believe that it’s actually okay. Even if his circumstances are concerning. “You wanna know a truly dumb fear?” Eddie murmurs lightly.

Steve almost wants to cry more with how caring Eddie is, but he pushes it to the side. Favors the distraction. “What?” He mumbles.

“I’m afraid of birds. And not them existing or being in my space or landing on my shoulders. I’m afraid of birds flying above me and pooping on my hair,” he states genuinely. Steve can’t help but snort, albeit weakly. “See? It’s kind of dumb, y’know? When have I ever cared about my fucking hair, Steve? Never, that’s when. Well, unless there are birds nearby.”

“I guess it is a little dumb,” Steve whispers.

“I know,” Eddie murmurs, grinning. “Vomit isn’t dumb, though. I promise, Stevie. We can talk about it later, if you want. Or never, if you prefer. Let me get you settled in bed and I’ll grab your stuff.”

He lets Eddie guide him back to bed. Fluff his pillow. Lay him supine. When he returns, he’s holding three ice packs, a bottle of prescription migraine medication, a plate of toast, and some water.

Steve watches in silent infatuation as Eddie lays it out all careful on his bedside table. As he tucks the icepacks where they need to go. Helps Steve take his medicine, eat, and drink. And almost begins crying again when Eddie rubs gentle circles on his chest.

“Lay with me?” He quietly asks.

Instead of making up some long winded excuse, Eddie immediately strips down to his t-shirt and boxers. He slides right next to Steve, not touching, but not too far away, either. Rolls over onto his side to face Steve and gently places his hand over the cold compress on his forehead. “This okay, baby?”

He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly as he tries to relax back into his pillows. “Yeah,” Steve whispers, “‘m just nauseous still.”

“Okay,” Eddie mutters, “I’ve got some Altoids in my jacket if you want them. Your chewing gum might agitate the migraine more.” He reaches over the side of the bed and fishes out the tin can of mints. Pinches three with his index finger and thumb. And requests, “Open your mouth, Stevie.”

Steve lets him place the mints on his tongue. He spreads them out so that one is in the center and the other two are on either side. “Will this help?” He asks around the Altoids. As if to mock him, a feeling of malaise washes over him. Immediately, he lays his hands over his stomach and digs his fingernails in.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie whispers urgently, abandoning the ice pack and grabbing Steve’s hands instead. Soothingly rubs his thumb up the back of his hands and down to the underside of his wrists, where his pulse is hot, fast, and concerning. “No more of that. No more making yourself hurt.”

“Don’t wanna be sick,” Steve pants, breathing heavy through his nose.

“You won’t be sick,” Eddie says like a promise. Somewhere deep within Steve he knows Eddie’s saving face, saying something false. But he can’t bring himself to come to that realization. It sounds like the voice in his head. I won’t throw up, he thinks in tandem. “Just keep your eyes closed, alright? I’ll keep the door closed. I didn’t shut the window. Focus on the icepacks for me, sweetheart.” Steve squeezes his eyes shut as tight as they’ll go, relenting when it only makes the migraine pulse alive. He tries to center the cold spots. “Where are they, Stevie?”

“My…My forehead.”

“That’s one,” Eddie whispers, “two more.”

“And my neck. And—“ He takes another deep breath. “And under my head,” he breathes out.

“Good,” Eddie praises softly. “That was good, baby.” He gently squeezes Steve’s palms. “Tell me what usually helps. Let me help you through this so that you don’t…I don’t like seeing you hurt yourself.”

Steve quietly whines. Digging back into the icepack underneath him. Breathing out the last little bits of nausea from that particular wave. But he knows it’ll be back. It’s how his migraines always are. “I like the cold air on me,” he confesses near silently. “And I need to make sure I have mints or gum in my mouth. And I—It’s stupid.”

“Nothing’s stupid, just tell me.”

He huffs. “I have to tell myself I won’t throw up. Like I need to hear that I won’t, I guess.”

Gentle and nimble fingers massage his hands and wrists. Small circles, little vertical stripes, horizontal strokes. “I’m getting the box fan from your parents’ room. And then we’ll just lay here. You won’t throw up, Stevie.” As Eddie gets up, he leans down and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek—even where it’s sallow and tacky.

There’s something in the way Eddie says it, nonchalant but not dismissive, that makes Steve believe he’s right. Something in the way he’s not disgusted or afraid of Steve’s everything after, something in that kiss like a vow. So he indulges. Lays with his eyes shut, the box fan eventually blowing the cold air from his window onto his too warm skin, and Eddie’s fingers massaging his hands. Every single time he tenses, Eddie soothes him with that same promise.

He keeps Steve away from harm. Squeezing his hands firmly when he tries to hit or scratch at himself. Pets his hair and coos softly in his ear. And holds the icepacks when Steve goes boneless with sleep, mouth agape and drooling, snuffling softly into the calm silence stretching between them.

At the end of the day, he’s still afraid of vomiting. It’s probably something he’ll never get over, something he’ll be challenged with for the rest of his life (or however long these migraines last). Though, Eddie doesn’t judge him. Doesn’t let the negative in. He’s braver with Eddie. Safer. Afraid, but comforted.

That’s all he could ask for while going through this.

🤢—————🤢