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dandylovesturtles · 3 months

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I should be in bed lol but I wanted to write a turtle tot sick fic so here

I went into this with no plan and it ended up uh. way sadder than I intended. whoops.

cw: mentions of vomit

...

Blue slept through naptime. That should have been Splinter's first clue.

In the moment, he'd just been so happy to actually have four sleeping children that he'd taken the opportunity for his own nap, the old, tattered storybook he'd been reading them draped over his face. He never managed to get Blue to wind down enough to sleep, so he usually had to quietly entertain him with books or the tv on low until the others woke up. But his Baby Blue had conked out almost immediately today, and soon Splinter was snoozing right along with them.

Blue was also the last to wake up. That should have been the second clue.

Splinter was woken up by Orange, talking in loud, disjointed sentences with plenty of nonsense words as he played with an old plastic telephone Splinter had found them. Red was racing his toy cars, making his own sound effects as they skid across the floor and crashed into the wall. Only Purple was quiet, industriously sorting his legos by color and size.

Splinter sat up, letting the book slide off his face, and took stock. It was surprising to see Blue still curled up against his leg even in the midst of all the racket his brothers were making. "Blue?" he said softly, giving the little turtle a nudge. Blue blinked his eyes open, groggily looking around. "Naptime is over."

Blue pushed himself up into a sitting position, then rubbed clumsily at his eyes. He looked so tired still that Splinter debated telling him he could keep sleeping, even if it might make putting him to bed later more difficult.

But once Blue was up, he saw Red racing his cars and pushed quickly to his feet, hurrying over to join in the game. Almost immediately he was demanding Red hand over one of the cars and setting up an elaborate make-believe track for their race, so Splinter let it go.

Thirty minutes later, Blue tugged on Splinter's old sweatpants and said, "Daddy, my tummy hurts." In hindsight, this is exactly when Splinter should have put it together.

But the kids rarely got sick - a benefit of whatever Draxum had put in the gunk that turned them into this, Splinter assumed. Which was a blessing, because he was pretty limited in what medicine he could get in his condition. The boys having a hearty immune system was one of the few things Splinter had going for him.

So he hadn't moved to that conclusion. Instead he said, "Do you need to go potty?" and Blue had considered that very seriously for a few seconds before nodding and rushing off to the bathroom.

Orange threw the plastic phone into Purple's meticulously organized lego piles and Splinter moved on to the next crisis without another thought.

It was at dinner, when he caught Blue pushing his food (mac'n'cheese!) around without interest, that it finally clicked that maybe he should be worried.

"Blue, what's wrong?"

Blue didn't so much as look up. He shrugged, swirling his noodles around and around.

Splinter would be embarrassed to admit how long it took him to remember their earlier conversation, but it eventually came back to him. "Ah... Is your stomach still hurting?"

Blue's face scrunched up in misery, and he nodded.

Splinter groaned in exasperation. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did!"

"I mean after you went potty."

Blue grimaced. Instead of answering, he scooped up some mac'n'cheese and stuffed it in his mouth. He looked like he regretted it as soon as he'd done it.

"Do not spit that out," said Splinter immediately, because mac'n'cheese was one of the few things Purple would eat and if Blue spat it out in front of him it would go on his Bad Foods list for at least a month. And Orange had a habit of mimicking anything Blue did, which would only compound the problem.

Blue chewed and swallowed the mouthful agonizingly slowly. He looked so miserable afterward that Splinter felt bad about it.

"Are you going to throw up, Blue?" he asked, and got a furious head shake in response. "Are you just telling me that?" Another shake. "Do you want to keep eating?" A third shake. Splinter sighed and took his bowl from him. "Alright. I'll put this in the fridge, if you want it later."

Their mini-fridge was already stuffed full, but Splinter would simply have to make space, or throw all this mac'n'cheese out. He wished they had a bigger fridge, but just getting this back to the juncture in the sewers he called a home had been difficult enough.

He wished he had a bigger fridge. He wished he had a house. He wished he had a pediatrician to take Blue to. He wished he wasn't a rat man. He wished he and his kids were... normal.

It was a bad thought. He knew that as soon as he thought it, and he tried to push it down. The kids didn't need to know they weren't normal. That none of this was normal. He knew that, but...

"Throw up?" he heard Purple say, and then the telltale sound of him pushing his bowl away. Mac'n'cheese was on the Bad Foods list. Splinter groaned.

...

He found their old thermometer after the boys were finished eating. Getting a temperature from Blue was near impossible because he moved it around too much or spat it out before time was up, but Splinter would have to do his best.

After three tries, he got a reading that seemed accurate enough. Blue's body ran colder than a human child's, and it had taken observation and trial and error for Splinter to learn what constituted as a fever. As it was, Blue was only two degrees above his normal. So at least that wasn't too worrying.

He was still complaining that his stomach hurt, though. A stomach bug, then? Or just something he ate? Usually Red was the one who would put random things in his mouth unless Splinter kept a careful watch, but Blue and Orange were... adventurous eaters, too. It was possible.

They continued with their normal bedtime routine. Another thing Splinter had going for him was that his boys loved baths; getting them into their makeshift tub, even with lukewarm water, was always easy. From his research, Red, Blue, and Purple were all aquatic turtles, and Orange was not one to be left out of his brothers’ games no matter his biology.

Blue wasn't excited for bath time tonight, though. He sat quietly in the tub, making grumpy noises anytime he got splashed and playing only with his favorite blue shark toy, ignoring everything else. He definitely felt bad. Splinter was feeling increasingly terrible that he hadn't noticed.

He got them all toweled off and into their pajamas. Then into the pallet beds he had for them, all in one big shared alcove, a tattered curtain strung up for a semblance of privacy. They would need something more as they got older, but for now the boys seemed content to share space.

He tucked Red, Purple, and Orange in, then turned his attention to Blue. He had found an old bucket earlier that he (theoretically) used for mopping, and this he presented to Blue.

"If you are going to throw up, please do it in this," he told Blue. "We don't have any spare sheets."

"Not gonna," said Blue grumpily, pushing the bucket away.

"Ewww," whined Purple. "I don't want to share with Leo if he throws up."

"Not gonna!" Blue insisted, glaring at Purple, who glared back. Splinter sighed and pushed the bucket at Blue again.

"I am serious, Leonardo," he said, and that got Blue's attention. "If you throw up, do it in this bucket."

Instead of answering, Blue rolled over and scrunched himself up in a ball. That was the best Splinter was going to get, he supposed, so he just sighed and put the bucket next to Blue's bed.

"Good night, boys," he said as he got to his feet, ignoring the crackles from his back and knees.

"Good niiiight," came three echoes. Blue was giving him the silent treatment. Alright.

He went back to his own bed, sectioned off by an old divider screen he'd managed to find. Hopefully they could at least get through the night without disaster striking.

...

According to his beat up alarm clock, it was only two hours later when Red showed up by his bedside, shaking him awake urgently.

Splinter groaned his way into consciousness, blinking groggy eyes until his eldest son came into focus.

"Leo threw up," came Red's predictable report.

Splinter sighed, pushing his sheets aside and rising from his futon. "Did he make it in the bucket?"

Red's expression was not encouraging.

...

He had not made it in the bucket.

Blue sat stock still in the puddle of his own sick, eyes teary and expression a mix between stunned and embarrassed. Purple was pressed as close to the opposite wall as he could get, hands pressed tight over his nose and mouth. Orange was at Blue's side, patting his arm with his chubby little hand.

"Blue," Splinter snapped as soon as he saw the mess. "Why didn't you throw up in the bucket!?"

"Didn't think I was gonna," Blue croaked.

"Well, you did. All over your sheets." Splinter ran his hands over his tired eyes. "Now you have nothing for tonight. And who knows if I'll even be able to get the stain out. I may have to go all the way to the surface to get new ones, and do you know what a hassle that is!? The bucket was right here, Blue!"

"I'm sorry."

The miserable hiccup in Blue's voice effectively stopped Splinter's tirade, and he refocused on his son. Blue's tears had spilled over, streaking down his miserable face. He was shivering, hands clutching the fabric of his ruined sheets, wringing them tight. He looked terrified.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," he repeated. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Something inside Splinter cracked.

Leo was only four, by his best guess. He was a baby, still. A sick baby, and Splinter was yelling at him about... about bed sheets?

Blue didn't know that Splinter would have to steal him new sheets. He didn't know that Splinter feared every time he did something so risky, that it might expose their tiny family to hostile forces - the human authorities, Big Mama's goons, Draxum's gargoyles. He didn't know that Splinter should be taking him to a doctor right now. He didn't know that sleeping on a pallet bed in the sewers wasn't normal.

He just knew that he had thrown up, and his dad was mad about it.

Immediately, Splinter stooped and scooped the still-apologizing Blue into his arms. He was getting bigger all the time, and, somehow, Splinter was getting smaller, but he could still hold his boys in his arms, still cradle them against his chest.

"Blue... Leo, listen to me."

"I'm sorry," Blue mumbled again, followed by a sad, wet hiccup.

"Shh, shh, no, my son, please listen." He waited until teary eyes were turned on him to continue. "You don't need to apologize. You did nothing wrong."

"Missed the bucket," said Blue, and Splinter shook his head.

"That's alright. You're sick. It is my job to take care of these things." He scratched at the back of Blue's shell with the arm holding him, something he knew always calmed Blue down. Sure enough, he felt his boy begin to relax. "Do not worry about the sheets. If Daddy needs to get more, he will. For now we will all share."

Blue sniffed, and buried his face in Splinter's chest. That was a good sign. Splinter kept up the scraching.

"I'm sorry I yelled. You aren't in trouble, Blue. You're alright."

Blue sniffled again. Hiccupped one last time. His tears were drying up, and his little voice said, "S'okay, Daddy."

"Oh, my Baby Blue... Thank you."

He still felt terrible as he lowered Leo back to his bed and started to strip away the soiled sheets, but Leo had calmed down considerably. He kept the bucket close, though, even as he laid back down again on his pillow.

"Leo can have my blanket," said Red, already pulling the old thing over. Splinter smiled gratefully at him.

"Thank you, Red. Blue, do you think you will throw up again?"

Blue shrugged. "Dunno."

"That's alright. It's okay if you do." Splinter smoothed the blanket over Blue, not tucking him in so he could move if he needed to. "I'll get this sheet washed out and be back, alright?"

Blue nodded. He was still gripping the bucket with one hand. Splinter rubbed his head, then stood up with his bundle of soiled sheets.

When he returned, with water for Blue, he'd thrown up again - in the bucket, this time. Orange was still by him, rubbing his arm, while Red sat behind him, supporting his back. Even Purple had come close, awkwardly patting at Blue's leg while pointedly avoiding looking at the bucket.

"Thank you for taking such good care of Blue," he told them, getting three beaming smiles in return.

They were all going to have the bug by tomorrow. Splinter would need to find more buckets.

#rottmnt #rise splinter #rise leo #dandy fanfiction #idk what this is lol #thinking about the early years gets me ok

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alexandriaellisart · 7 months

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#teen titans #raven #starfire #starrae #robrae #comics #my comics #idk what this is lol #i just wanted to make it #raven is socially awkward and also me #teen titans comics #teen titans 2003

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tteokdoroki · 9 months

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“i’m sorry, rin.”

it comes out of nowhere, an apology so softly spoken that he almost misses it. rin looks over to you, a mask of confusion laying on the dainty slope of his features.

he hesitates in speaking, not wanting to interject in the conversation between the rainfall and the window pane that you listen to. sitting side by side in the empty classroom.

“what do you mean by that?” of course he replies on the defensive side of things — vulnerability has never been rin’s strong suit and nobody likes being read for filth, but he knows whatever you’re about to say comes from a place of genuine care.

if only he could will himself to believe it.

your lips, plump and plush, part to form the shape of the words you want to say. though not a sound escapes you, at least not until you throw rin an apologetic look from over your shoulder. empathy and pity filling the void in the empty room.

“you look like no one’s ever told you that before.” perched on the desk, you twist around to face the younger itoshi brother until the bottom of your shoes are scuffing against the seat planted behind the desk. “that they’re sorry. for hurting you.”

you’re not wrong. there are still open wounds on his heart and his psyche, infected with the pain of losing the love from his brother and sometimes his parents. but rin still can’t figure out why you feel like he needs to hear these words from you.

“you’ve not hurt me. why would you need to apologise?” curiosity is dangerous, it’s killed more than just the cat. and to rin itoshi you’re a mystery waiting to be unravelled, an enigma he just can’t seem to understand. you’re not at all simple, you have no rules unlike soccer or any other sport for that matter.

you’re unpredictable, much like life, and time and space — and rin finds himself being sucked into your wormhole. “i haven’t hurt you,” pushing yourself up and off the desk, you stalk your way over to rin with a sing-song air about your voice. “not yet. but if i do, i want you to know that i’m sorry.”

the silence returns and rin ponders over your word. he doesn’t know if he should thank you or fear you for it.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock imagines #blue lock angst #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin angst #itoshi rin imagines #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk imagines #bllk x y/n #idk what this is lol #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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morkiemcfly · 3 months

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You know what to me weirdest thing about the ending of totk is?

The fact that Link and Zelda plummeted into a lake and somehow emerged completely dry.

#totk #tears of the kingdom #idk what this is lol #zelink #totk spoilers

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ro-sham-no · 1 month

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dean helped sam through his teething phase as a baby with his own fingers, letting him gum and gnaw away at them, leaving them raw and wrinkly, most of the time.

toddler-aged sam ended up having a thumb-sucking problem, as many kids do, but he sucked on dean's thumb instead of his own.

#idk what this is lol #but now that i've thought it #i can't unthink it #(#spn #sam & dean #codependency #gencest #)

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theworsethingsgettheharderifight · 9 months

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💀 out of my mind 💀

#this bitch empty! yeet!!#skull #idk what this is lol #art #my art #theworsethingsgettheharderifight

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lorcandidlucienwill · 24 days

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So I think we can all agree that the Archerons were so weird because they didn’t bicker like real siblings, so here’s a snippet of a fic I’m writing where all the sisters are arguing. This takes place during a dress fitting for Elain’s wedding. Warning: lots of inner circle slander

Nesta scowled at her reflection as faeries fussed over her, adjusting the gown she was wearing.

“You look lovely, Nesta,” Feyre said from the seat beside her. “Easy for you to say,” Nesta muttered. Feyre looked magnificent in an electric blue halter top paired with black slacks and boots. A circlet of small crescent moons lay upon her forehead. “I look ridiculous.” Nesta glared at the gold dress she had been shoved into again. “God, it’s the same as my hair. Can’t you get a red dress, at least? This makes my skin fade out.” At last, the dressers obeyed, pulling the ill-fitting monstrosity away from her body.

“You looked pretty in that dress, Nesta,” Elain said gently, her hair up in a jumbo bun at the top of her head, wildflowers surrounding the band holding it up. She wasn’t getting fitted today, but she had come to see what dresses Nesta and Feyre would be wearing. Not like Elain would have any difficulty with her dress. She looked perfect in everything she wore, except perhaps that black dress she’d once worn in the Hewn City. It was annoying.

“Quit lying Elain, I looked like wallpaper,” Nesta snapped. Then she sighed. “Red is truly my color, but that blonde bitch everyone thinks is sooo beautiful is always wearing it, so I usually opt for black.”

“Don’t speak that way about Mor,” Feyre said sharply.

“I’ll speak of her however I like, little sis. She’s not my friend, and frankly, she isn’t really even yours.”

Feyre glowered at her. “She saved me from Tamlin.”

“Did she do that for you, or for little Rhys-rhys? Has she ever stood up for you in front of Rhysand? She certainly despises me; thought me fit to throw into the court of nightmares. I highly doubt you’re much different.”

“Yeah, I am. Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch all the time, people would treat you differently.”

Nesta laughed sarcastically. “Because 500 year old uber powerful Fae warriors can’t handle a 23 year old formerly human woman handing their asses to them, can they?”

“You’re really going to start this now, with my wedding just around the corner?” Elain complained. Nesta whipped her head around to her. “Oh, sure! I absolutely care about this sham of a wedding! Feyre’s mate is a jackass, my mate is a jackass, but perhaps third time’s the charm with you, huh, Elain?”

“Lucien is ten times the man Rhysand will ever be,” Elain said coldly, her temper causing her voice to raise volume. Nesta opened her mouth to say that this doesn’t mean much considering Rhysand is a small boy stuck in a man’s form when Feyre interrupted. “Wait a damn minute. You both despise my husband?” she demanded.

“What gave it away, Feyre?” Nesta drawled. “Me constantly insulting Rhysand, resisting his orders, and declaring him not my high lord? Me not wishing to live with the rest of you? Elain literally leaving Night to get away from him?”

“I thought Elain left Night because of Azriel!”

“Azriel?!” Elain let out a snort which turned into such mirth that Nesta stared. “That broody, brainless bat not man enough to speak about his feelings in any capacity? You think I’d leave because of him? As if! I left because I got tired of your fake family’s fake welcome and decided Lucien was better than the lot of them.”

“Lucien let me get hurt in Spring!”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Feyre!” Elain shrieked, and Nesta gasped. Elain cussing was something Nesta frankly thought she’d never hear. “Lucien told me his side of the story, and it seems as if your head was too far up Rhysand’s ass to realize everything Lucien has done for you!”

“Just like Feyre never acknowledged the work we did around the house when we were in the cottage,” Nesta muttered. Elain nodded. Feyre stalked up to Nesta and slapped her face so hard her neck tilted. “Oh no you didn’t,” Nesta snarled, and she shoved Feyre into a coat rack, taking her and the rack to the ground. The two of them began wrestling, Elain crying, “Stop, you idiots, stop!” in the background. “Help, there’s a fight going on in here!”

#nesta archeron #feyre archeron #elain archeron #idk what this is lol #archeron sisters #fanfic

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pinkandblueblurbs · 1 year

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hii could u write a little blurb about asking stepdad!daryl to take ur virginity

i’m guessing u mean like a little dialogue?

“Shouldn’t be doin’ this…” he murmurs, eyes trained on you as you lift your top off over your head.

“Why not? I want you to. Please. Want it to be you.” You say truthfully. Your hands ring your shirt with your nerves.

“…it should be special,” he says awkwardly, trying not to stare at your bra-clad tits.

“We ain’t special?” You murmur softly, thinking back to the rushed, messy kisses you’ve snuck with him in your moments alone— moments that felt pretty damn special to you. Your sweet face is twisted in a frown that makes Daryl wanna smack himself for causing it.

“I don’t mean it like that, kid.” He shakes his head, eyes flitting to the floor. “You should be with someone better.”

“Ain’t anyone better than you. I want you.” You cross the small space between you, leaning up to kiss him, slower than the times before. When you whisper “please” into his mouth the last of his resolve crumbles away.

#notsfw.gill #idk what this is lol #daryl dixon #the walking dead #dark.gill

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fatherforgivethem · 6 months

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Aegon and Helaena away at school…

“When’s your class, Hel?”

“In ten minutes…”

“Ok good, we’ve got time. Can you put on your lipstick though? I want people to know that I did something fun on a Monday morning.”

“Ok, fine. But that reduces our time down to six minutes, Aegon.”

“I can do a lot in six minutes so we should be good.”

#aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #helaegon #hotd moodboard #modern au moodboard #hotd #idk what this is lol #this had been in my head for months now #Tessa’s moodboards

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sleepyhighslvt · 1 month

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i need to make out with someones cock or tits or maybe eat a taco idk

#i am absolutely feral rn #18+ blog #bd/sm community #ramblings #idk what this is lol #free use kink

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saybiwithme · 2 years

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For @eddiethecouch

911 as texts 3/?

#henren #Karen wilson #hen wilson #911 crack #911 #9-1-1 #911fox #911 incorrect #911 incorrect quotes #henren crack #KJ tag #idk what this is lol #reneeedits #the app just messed this up four times it better not do it again 😤#henrenedit #hen x karen

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lulu-draws-stuff · 1 year

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Has this happened before?

Idk take this low effort comic featuring Duck guy having trauma from the Food incident but not remembering why

Also Bentley's there

#doodles #fanart #dhmis #don't hug me i'm scared #dhmis oc #ocs #Bentley #dhmis duck guy #dhmis red guy #dhmis yellow guy #duck guy #red guy #yellow guy #idk what this is lol #I just had an idea and had to draw it #btw sorry it the IDs are confusing at all #it's hard to work with the character limit sometimes #comic #art

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milliexoliveira · 1 month

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open starter: @aurorabaystarter

where: choose your own adventure

"I volunteered to help organize the party for my sister's Sweet Sixteen and I have no idea what I've gotten myself into. Where do you even begin?"

#aurorabay.starter #idk what this is lol #assume connections if you'd like!#she grew up in ab but moved several years ago but moved back home recently #she has several siblings

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toodivineforhumanmind · 4 months

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Hey could you write a prompt that some guy is trying to hit on Chrissy and she is getting uncomfortable and eddie sees it and steps in.

Thank you!

It wasn't a Friday night worth mentioning, really. Another grey night in Hawkins, the kind where the fog settled over the entire town like a suffocating blanket. The air was crisp with the promise of spring, and Eddie found himself shivering each time the door of The Hideout opened with a sad little creak.

The band on the stage wasn't great, either. Though he sounded like a dipshit even in his own head when he thought it, Eddie knew Corroded Coffin could've beat them any day of the week. Tuedays or Fridays.

Even if they looked like a sad little bunch sitting at their regular corner table, nursing their second beers of the night. Eddie grimaced at the bitter tone of his thoughts.

Fuck, he needed to get out of this fucking town. And this fucking bar, preferably. ´86, baby — the real world was so close, he could almost feel it in his ring-cladded fingers.

Eddie found himself drifting in and out of focus as Gareth and Jeff argued whether they should get on the road and see Black Sabbath in Chicago the next month. Their voices blended into a indistinct humming in his ears, and Eddie was glad his input wasn't requested.

So he sat there, sipping his beer as to present some signs of intelligent life to his friends. His brown eyes fixed on the worn down posters on the paneled walls, those shitty ones from the 60s so badly tattered that it was nearly impossible to make out the names and dates anymore.

It wasn't until 15 minutes or so later that Eddie snapped out of his laconic state as a large group entered the bar, the door opening with the familiar creak that quickly got lost in the loud, drunken hollering of Jason Carver and his posse of douchebag variants.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Garreth mumbled into his beer, rubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers

Jeff shook his head, his eyes meeting Eddie's. "Think they finally managed to burn down Benny's?"

Eddie shook his head, downing the last of his beer. "Don't think they're that advanced yet. Fire scary. Fire big. Carver no understand fire."

The rowdy group of guys made their way through the bar, and Eddie let his gaze gloss over them with little interest as they started drifting toward the counter, their loud voices competing with the band playing on stage. And as the guys finally started to scatter and drift toward a table with drinks in their hands, Eddie caught a glimpse of a familiar figure still at the counter.

Chrissy was leaning against the counter, her slender fingers tapping on the wooden surface. She looked out of place in her white dress, her hair tied back with a green ribbon that entangled into her loose curls. Her frame was somewhat covered with the letterman jacket that someone — undoubtedly Carver — had placed over her shoulders.

Eddie found himself almost annoyed at the sight of that fucking jacket. As if he needed another reminder.

Jason moved closer to Chrissy at the bar, clutching a beer in his hand. He draped his free arm over Chrissy's shoulder, leaned in closer and said something to her. Whatever it was, Eddie was certain he could see the girl lean back slightly, answering with a dry smile and a few words that he couldn't make out.

Chrissy shook off the letterman jacket and handed it to Jason, her words once again lost in the noise of their surroundings. Jason grabbed the jacket after a momen of hesitation, but there was something oddly stiff in his shoulders as he walked to the table where his friends were seated. He clutched the jacket in his fist as he sat down.

The tense exchange almost made Eddie snicker with a laugh his mother would've called "vindictive", but he stiffed it into a cough that was a bit too loud to be convincing.

Jeff glanced at him with a weird look in his eyes, but said nothing. And alas, the argument about whether Garreth's car was too shitty to make it to Chicago continued, and Eddie found himself getting lost in his thoughts once more.

A few minutes passed in boredom, and Eddie listened on. Chicago was fine, but would Columbus be closer? Maybe they could take Eddie's truck. No, that thing will blow up on the fucking interstate. Well, what about Jeff's brother's van, that thing's brand new—

Eddie's gaze glossed over the bar again, and this time he couldn't help himself from staring at the sight of Chrissy Cunningham in conversation with one of the town drunks.

And by the looks of it, there was nothing pleasant about it. To her, at least.

Eddie glanced at the table where Jason and his friends were sitting but was not shocked to see that Carver was paying no attention to the situation at the bar. Figures. The guy could've beat Narcissus himself in the battle of self-absorbed assholes.

"I'm gonna get another beer," Eddie informed his friends, pushing himself away from the table.

He made his way to the bar, making sure to leave some distance between himself and Chrissy at the bar. Who knows, maybe Bob the Boozer was a dear relative of the girl. A happy family reunion at The Hideout, wouldn't that be nice?

And yet, there was nothing familial about the way the guy started grabbing Chrissy’s ass at that very moment, inciting a loud protest from the girl’s lips. Her words got lost in the noise, but Eddie knew it wasn’t good, and so he took a step closer as Chrissy took a step back and bumped right into his chest.

Chrissy jumped at the sudden contact, her ponytail swinging as she whipped her head back to look up at Eddie. Green eyes met brown ones, and Eddie could’ve sworn he saw a moment of relief in her gaze.

He didn’t stop to take her in for that much longer, and instead stepped past Chrissy and closer to the guy that still had his hand outstretched from his previous attempt at molestation. He could feel Chrissy stepping aside, her body brushing against his side for the briefest moment that passed far too quickly. Shivers.

Eddie’s ring-clad fingers closed around his wrist, and he pulled the guy slightly closer to his face, albeit at the cost of having to smell the stale booze on the guy’s breath. He was almost taken a back at the fire in his chest, the anger burning his veins.

"I might not be the smartest guy around, but even I was taught to keep my hands to myself when I was in first grade,” Eddie stated to the man, his grip tightening on his wrist as he yanked him even closer, their noses nearly colliding.

Burning, burning. Anger burning in his veins, intense enough to ignite his entire body.

He continued: “What’s the case with you, then? Got the memory of a goldfish or never had an education past kindergarten? My money’s on the second one, but you guys never cease to surprise me.”

As always, any form of intelligent conversation was a near impossibility with the guys who frequented The Hideout, and the guy was no exception. Eddie could barely a catch a word from his slurring, and he knew it’d be a waste to rile him up. Worst scenario he’d just get get a sucker punch to the back of the head with a beer bottle.

So he pushed the guy away and tremendously enjoyed the way he nearly stumbled to the dirty floor in his attempt to gain back his balance. “Get the fuck out of here, will you?”

And after a few seconds and a few more incoherent answers, he did. The door shut closed behind him with a creaky bang, and Eddie noticed himself exhaling with relief. He turned around to face Chrissy who was still standing there by the counter, hugging herself like she had caught a chill. Her cheeks were red — with anger? Or embarrassment? — and her green eyes sharp as they landed on Eddie.

"You okay?" Eddie asked with an intensity that went through his body like a physical being, startling him.

“Why’d you do that?” Chrissy blurted out like an accusation, though there was a moment of softness in her eyes that indicated she hadn’t meant it to come out as rudely.

“Personally, as much I enjoy getting my ass grabbed by town drunks, I know it might not be everyone’s thing,” Eddie answered with a sheepish grin. And though his joke was nothing if not limping, he was glad to see a smile tugging at Chrissy’s lips.

There was a small twinkle in the green of her eyes. “So that’s why you guys love this place so much, right? Guys like that making you feel pretty?”

Eddie couldn’t stop a laugh from falling off his lips, and he nodded a few times. “Exactly. Nothing better than a pervy 60-year-old to make you feel like a man.”

Chrissy glanced over her own shoulder at the loud table where her friends — or Jason and his friends — were sitting, perhaps suddenly far too conscious of her current company. Eddie followed her gaze, leaning against the wooden counter. The guys were paying Chrissy nor Eddie any attention, which was a first; Jason was usually always at the girl’s side, like a little rodent marking his territory.

“What are you guys doing here anyway? I thought Benny’s was the designated asshole jock spot,” Eddie said, smirking at the offended look on Chrissy’s features as her head whipped back to face him.

“Hey! That is so rude!”

“I didn’t mean you, per say. Though you are asshole-adjacent with Carver, I guess.”

“I am?"

“I don’t make the rules, Cunningham.” Eddie defended himself with a grin.

“Yes you do.”

“Sad day for you to be a rule-follower then.”

Chrissy’s shook her head, a real smile now lighting up her features. “You think I’m a goody two shoes?”

“I think you’re the goody two shoes,” Eddie stated, snickering with laughter as the girl stared at him with an exaggerated look of shock and hurt.

For a moment they stood there staring, their words still hanging in the air between them. And as Chrissy's invasive green eyes met his own, Eddie swore he felt a jolt of electricity traveling all the way up his spine. The silence between stretched on, and it was clear the girl was not going to be one giving up, and Eddie was far too aware of the very little distance between their bodies.

He glanced at Jason again, nervous.

Chrissy was still looking up at him, her fingers fidgeting with her hair as she did. There was something odd about her face as she noticed Eddie glancing past her, knowing that he was looking at Jason. Knowing, that Jason wouldn't be looking at her.

He never really did, anymore. Not really.

Maybe that's why it was such an intense, burning feeling when Eddie looked at her just now. Intense and unforgiving, like he could read her mind right then and there. He always had that weird quality to him, ever since they were kids; like he could see through people while no one could really see him.

Chrissy's hands were shaking.

"I think I should go. Jason's probably waiting for me," she eventually said, knowing her words were a lie just as well as she knew that she had no desire to join the guys at the table.

Eddie shrugged, a poor attempt at hiding his disappointment. "That's probably a good idea then. Can't keep the King of Hawkins High waiting."

There was a brief flash of genuine hurt in Chrissy's eyes, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared as the girl seemingly reorganized her features to form a somewhat neutral expression. "Right."

A beat of hesitation. Another.

"Thanks for... Dealing with that guy." Chrissy's voice was warm, genuine. Even if there was a note of sadness in it, one to match the look in her big green eyes.

Eddie had trouble looking away from her. It felt forced to tear his gaze away from her as he cleared his throat, turning his attention to his shoes. And though he wanted to say so much more, all that came out was: "Don't mention it, Cunningham."

The sadness in the green persisted as Chrissy gave him one last smile before walking away.

#idk what this is lol #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #chrissy x eddie #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer #chreddie #eddissy #eddisy #stranger things #hellcheer fic

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