#tw: epipens

[sortofanobsession]

Roy/Jaime idea: Roy eats something and has a severe allergic reaction to it and Jaime is the one to run and get an epi-pen to save his life, and looks after Roy once he comes out of hospital. Jaime stays with Roy, and winds up never leaving.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. It's been a bad week for me trying to focus. I've only had one allergic reaction to medication as a toddler. I don't remember it. I wasn't there for my nephew's two anaphylaxis events. So I'm just going off what little I do know. Not sure if this is even a real allergy. I have external allergies, like contact allergies and a horrible reaction to bug bites, but that's not the same. I just imagine what that would be like in your throat and oh yikes.

Not beta read

Ao3

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Word Count: 6k+

Paring: Roy x Jamie (Romantic), Roy x Phoebe (familial/platonic, protective), Jamie x Phoebe (platonic, protective) Roy x AFC Richmond Himbos (platonic)

Content warning: Allergic Reactions, anaphylaxis, Hospitals, needles, epipens, medical emergencies, ptsd, trauma reactions

The press will make it seem like I ended your career and then you

Roy does not like people knowing about his life. He likes keeping it that way. 

In a rare week where they end up having an extra day off after one of their games gets moved for a different game to be televised. The team only has a half day of training, and they meet up in the afternoon. Roy picks up Phoebe from school and joins them later in the day outside an unusual cafe. One of the guys hands them a smoothie, some fruity concoction a few of them insists Phoebe will like. And it's fine until Roy tells Phoebe to get her bag. When Phoebe looks up at him, she shouts. Jamie and Isaac are on their feet as she scrambles to get her bag. 

"What was in that?!" Phoebe asks. 

"Fruits and veggies," Someone says. And Jamie gets a good look at Roy and curses. She adds, "He needs to lie down." Jamie and Isaac do as she says and get him flat on the ground. 

"Phoe," Jamie starts to ask if she has an epipen but she ignores him. 

"What kind?" Phoebe shouts. “He has allergies.”

"Call an ambulance," Isaac shouts. 

"Colin already did," Jan Maas says. "He is talking to them now."

Phoebe panics as she looks up at Jamie. “I can’t find it.”

“Does he have one?” Jamie tamps down his inner panic and focuses on what needs to be done.

“Glovebox,” Phoebe says.

“Sorry, mate,” Jamie mutters as he awkwardly gets Roy’s keys out of his pocket and sprints to the G Wagon. He makes a bit of a mess, but he finds an epipen. He rushes back and drops down beside Roy. With little work, he preps the pen and slams it into Roy’s thigh. “You can kick my arse if it bruises when you aren’t half dead,” Jamie says as he looks Roy over. He looked awful. His face was swollen, and his color was off. “But you don’t get to fucking die on me, mate. The press will make it seem like I ended your career and then you. Those pricks love making drama out of shit.” He isn’t sure if he’s talking to keep Roy focused on him being annoying or to make himself feel better. 

“Someone see if anyone has another,” Colin says. “Lady says it might not work.”

“Bruv,” Isaac smacks Colin and gestures to where Phoebe stares at him with wide eyes. 

“But I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Colin adds.

“He’s a fighter, Phoe,” Jamie says, trying to get her attention off of Colin. “Now, what’s he allergic to?” 

Phoebe looks up at Jamie. "He can't have some leafy veggies like he can't use whistles," she tells him. "That's what mum says, at least." 

"I got it, Phoe," Jamie says before focusing back on Roy. "Rough day, coach?" Roy glares at him. "When this is over, I'm going to ask your sister what else you haven't told the team that might actually kill you. So far, it's whistles and kale or some shit because clearly you can't be trusted to tell me." Roy growls, but it comes out half wheezed. Jamie takes Roy's hand and puts his fingers on his wrist. His pulse is fast and all over the place, but it's not terrible. "Just try and breathe, ya prick. Don’t want to traumatize the kid any more than she already is.” 

Colin comes over to hand Jamie his phone, but Jamie just hands it to Phoebe. "Tell them what you told me." It's good for her to have a task to keep her focused. And she knows more than most of them do with this. Jamie can tell the swelling must ease some because Roy looks a tiny bit better. Jamie takes off his jacket and puts it under Roy's head. "There nice and comfy now, innit?" Roy glares at him again, but Jamie takes his hand again. His grip shifts to hold it in one hand, and still feel his pulse. His other hand goes into his pocket and pulls out his phone. Jamie unlocks it and hands it to Colin. "Do me a favor and call Phoebe's mum. She's in there as Roy Kent's fit sister." 

That earns a grunt from Roy. Jamie smirks. "I know. You'll cut my eyes out." He squeezes Roy's hand. "You can yell at me when you can breathe properly again."

"Fuck you," Roy manages now that the epinephrine is working. Jamie grins and carefully sets Roy’s hand down. 

"Good news, lads, he lives," Jamie says, standing up. They cheer. "Still going to the A&E," Jamie insists.

Phoebe gives Colin back his phone and moves to sit beside her uncle. She takes the hand that Jamie doesn't keep using to check his pulse and holds it tight. Jamie leaves for a second and comes back.

"I'm okay, kid," Roy says. She hums but doesn't say anything. 

"How ya doing, coach?" Jamie asks. 

“You lock my fucking car?” Roy asks.

Jamie chuckles. “Yes, I locked your fucking car. Now answer my question.”

"I'm fine," Roy insists. Jamie huffs another laugh. He uses a bandana to wipe the sweat off Roy's now less pale face. Roy grimaces. 

"It's clean. I swear," Jamie says. "Can't have big bad Roy Kent looking sweaty, might make some poor medic swoon."

"You're fucked in the head, Tartt," Roy says.

"You don't know half of it," Jamie grins.

"I'm fucking glad for that," Roy grumbles. 

"Oh, trust me, you'd enjoy some of it," Jamie adds with a wink. And Roy glares at him. 

"He seems fine to me," Richard laughs from where he and Colin stand behind Jamie. 

"Yeah, but unless one of you has another epipen, then we better hope that the ambulance doesn't take forever," Jamie says. 

"I told you, I'm fine," Roy attempts to get up, but Jamie and Phoebe stop him.

"Sorry, Coach," Jamie says. "Doc's orders."

When the paramedics get there, Roy cooperates because Phoebe looks like if he doesn't, she might cry from where she holds onto Jamie's hand with both of hers. Jamie is knelt down to her level and clearly trying to comfort her. The medics let Jamie go with them to look after Phoebe. 

Phoebe stays with Jamie in the waiting room when they reach the hospital. 

"You good, Phoebs?" Jamie asks when she sits down. 

"Yeah," She says.

"You sure?" He asks again. "Cause you don't have to be. Sure as hell scared me."

"You didn't seem scared," Phoebe says. 

"Got years of practice looking tough on the outside," Jamie says.

"Uncle Roy says it's because your dad is a…well," she pauses.

"Bad word, innit?" Jamie grins. 

"It is," she admits.

"Well, my old man is a bad word," Jamie says.

"Mine was too, so we have that in common," she states. 

"We do," Jamie says as he throws his arm around her shoulder and pulls her into his side. "But you're a way better kid than I was. 'Lot smarter than I was. But we don't need bad dads with your Uncle Roy around."

"He's going to be okay, right?" She asks.

"Your mum's here, 'course he'll be okay. Be back to his gloomy and grumpy self in no time. A quid says he's already trying to convince them to let him go because he's fine, and your mum will have to put him in his place."

"You're on because he's not going to argue if mum is working because she is already busy, and she won't put up with nonsense." 

"Oh, fair point. Guess we'll see."

Roy might yell at Jamie for gambling with his 8-year-old niece, but Jamie will take that lecture. She isn't as worried or upset as she had been when they got there. So he doesn't regret it. They argue over what the waiting room TV should be changed to, despite neither of them having control over what is on. They both send Keeley texts from Jamie's phone, and they end up looking at magazines and saying who on the team would wear the outfits in the photos and ads. 

"Mum!" Phoebe runs over and hugs her mother when she approaches them.

"How is he, doc?" Jamie asks. 

"On the mend," she assures him. "Should be able to go home soon. But someone will need to look after him. You up for that?"

"Me?" Jamie asks. He figured Keeley would be the one to do it. 

"I think you can handle it," she says with a sly smile. "And I know you'll actually fight him if he tries to do something he shouldn't. He is not the easiest of patients."

"Giving the nurses trouble?" Jamie asks, glancing at Phoebe.

"Ha, no, not in my hospital. He knows better," She says.

"That's fair," Jamie says. He digs a coin out of his pocket and hands it to Phoebe. Phoebe's mum shakes her head. "You guys can head back and see him now." She has a nurse take them to Roy's room.

"Uncle Roy!" Phoebe hurries over to him when they get there. 

"Hey, kid," Roy says. 

"How do you feel?" She asks. 

"Like I don't need to be here anymore. I'm sure there's someone out there that could use this bed more than me."

"You just want to get out of here before the press finds out you're here," Jamie says as he sits in the chair by the bed.

"Probably already on the way if Jamie Tartt was loitering around the waiting area," Roy states.

"Hey, someone had to keep Phoebe from getting bored," Jamie says.

"Fuck off. I'm sure she was the one entertaining you. You can't sit still for five minutes. You can barely sit like a fucking adult." 

"Wow, rude, and two quid on your tab, for shame, Uncle Roy," Jamie grins.

"Fucking nightmare," Roy mutters. "Anyone tell you when I could fucking leave?" 

"Mum says soon, but you have to go home with Jamie," Phoebe says.

"Fuck no," Roy says. 

"Uncle Roy," Phoebe says and gives him a look she probably learned from her mum. Jamie hid his smile behind a drink he had gotten when he had gotten Phoebe food since she didn't actually get to eat at the cafe. He always found it insanely adorable how much sway she had over her uncle. And honestly, it was something Jamie could just sit all day and watch. Because getting to spend a day with his childhood hero and someone he cared for was just something special to Jamie. To see such an honest and genuine version of Roy fucking Kent. Times like these he secretly enjoyed. Although he could have done without the gut-wrenching fear of losing Roy to something as stupid as a fucking smoothie. If Roy didn’t start carrying an epipen on him at all times, Jamie would because they had in a very bad spot if Jamie hadn’t found the one in the glove box. 

Jamie listened to Roy and his niece argue. 

"What do you think, Jamie?” Phoebe says.

"I'm pretty sure my coach yells at me if I ignore my doctor's orders," Jamie points out, making direct eye contact with Roy. "And that coach is usually you."

Roy groans. "Fucking, fine." 

They settle in and watch some cartoons Phoebe picks on Roy's phone while Jamie just scrolls through his. He texts the team to let them know Roy is fine. And after a couple of hours, they get to leave. Jamie insists Phoebe come with them for the night to “help”. He'd left both his and Roy’s keys with the team. Isaac said they’d get Jamie’s car back to Nelson Road, but they’d drop Roy’s at the hospital so they had a ride home. Isaac assured him Colin wasn’t allowed to drive either of them. Jamie loves his teammates, and he lets them know how thankful he is in texts.

Roy is exhausted and feels like shit, but he is happy to be home. Even if Jamie was now in his home. Roy unceremoniously drops down on the sofa. Phoebe is quick to sit beside him, and he smiles when she snuggles into his side. They had a fucking terrifying day, and the look of absolute fear that Phoebe had during the entire incident was burned into his retinas. It would probably haunt his fucking dreams.  

“Here,” Jamie says, handing Roy a glass of water and the meds Roy's sister insisted he takes when he gets home. Roy’s neck and throat fucking hurt as he looks up at Jamie. 

“Thanks,” Roy says as he takes them. Jamie just nods and goes to sit in an armchair. Roy shakes his head as Jamie tucks one leg up under him. He really couldn’t sit like a normal person, could he? At least the striker had taken his shoes off. But Roy didn’t really mind. Jamie had saved his life and taken care of Phoebe. Jamie could fucking key his car, and Roy would probably let him, today at least. Jamie pulls out his phone and starts typing away at it. After a few minutes, he looks up at the TV and then at the pair on the sofa. Phoebe had turned some kid show on that Roy’s tired brain couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. “You guys hungry?” Jamie asks. 

Roy doesn’t exactly feel like eating. But he hadn’t eaten shit at the hospital. 

“You eat?” Roy asks Phoebe.

“Some,” Phoebe says. Roy looks at Jamie. 

“She wasn’t exactly hungry, but I did feed her,” Jamie says. He gets up and hands Roy his phone. It had a soup and sandwich place they often got delivered to Nelson Road pulled up. “Your sister says you can’t have much, nothing pointy or crispy, but mines is already in. Add whatever.” Jamie heads back towards Roy’s kitchen. Roy could remember a time that having Jamie Tartt doing anything in his house would have annoyed him, but honestly, he was glad Jamie was there. Roy’s too fucking tired to think about much. He decides to heed his sister’s warning and gets a soup he doesn’t hate. He lets Phoebe pick what she wants before ordering it. He’ll find out how much he spent on Phoebe earlier and pay Jamie back later. When Jamie is gone for a few minutes, Roy considers getting up to see what he is doing, but Jamie returns and hands him a mug of tea. 

“Figured you probably don’t keep whatever you’re allergic to in the house, so it was safe to make this. Might help your throat,” Jamie says. “Or make it worse, I’m no expert.” He hands a mug to Phoebe, who thanks him. Roy looks down and can tell that Jamie made her one of the fruity herbal teas that he keeps mostly for Phoebe, and that makes Roy pause. Because Jamie clearly has thought about a lot of details, Roy didn’t expect him to. He hadn’t asked for tea, but Jamie’s right. It might help. He knows Phoebe shouldn’t have caffeine this late in the day, especially after all the chaos of the afternoon. Her bedtime was only an hour away. Jamie had obviously considered that. And Roy has never been so glad to have Jamie around. Ever. Roy takes a drink and relaxes because whatever Jamie adds to it does actually help. He could fucking hug the man if he wasn’t so fucking knackered. And that was fucking weird. He fucking wanted to hug Jamie Tartt. Because he can remember the feeling of Jamie’s hand in his. It had been an awkward hold because Jamie had his fingers on his pulse point, but it had been more comforting than it should have been to him. 

Jamie doesn't let him do shit. Doesn't even let him answer the door when the food is delivered. Jamie has Phoebe make sure of it, and it suddenly makes sense why he insists she joins them. Jamie knew Roy wouldn't make too big a fuss if she was there. She had been through enough for one day. 

And Roy knows how that feels because Jamie may not have looked panicked while Roy was struggling to breathe. Roy could tell. Jamie’s eyes had been wide and filled with concern. The way Jamie’s hands had gripped him tight. It screamed, 'Don't leave me.'

After Phoebe goes to sleep, Jamie sits on the other end of the sofa and sighs. 

“You good?” Roy asks.

Jamie pulls a leg up on the couch and angles himself more towards Roy. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but fuck you for not actually having that stupid epipen on you. Because fucking hell, mate.” Jamie runs a hand through his hair. “That can’t happen again. Was fucking terrifying.”

“Not exactly a fucking walk in the park for me either,” Roy says.

“I get that, but if you don’t start carrying one, then I will, because yeah, fuck that. Not doing that again.”

“You’re serious?” Roy stares at him. 

“Fuck yes,” Jamie says, leaning forward. “I meant it. You don’t get to die on me.”

“Because the press will blame you,” Roy remembers.  

“No…because…well, forget it,” Jamie sighs. “It’s late, and you should probably get some sleep.”

“What were you going to say?” Roy was surprised. Jamie usually isn’t one to hold back when it’s just the two of them. 

“Because believe it or not, I do care about you,” Jamie admits. “Now go the fuck to bed. Because you're going to fucking need it. And so do I because I already know the team’s going to annoy you if you’re knackered. You’ll call drills and ‘m not doing those fucking knackered.”

Roy nods and says, “Fair play.” 

They say goodnight. 

Roy wakes up to the smell of fresh coffee and leaves his room to find Jamie and Phoebe making breakfast. Roy stops and takes in the scene in front of him. Jamie is making eggs, and Phoebe is buttered toast. Jamie had said something funny because Phoebe is laughing, and Jamie looked proud of himself. Roy gets a sudden feeling of want. And he isn’t exactly sure what that means. Obviously, coffee and food that wasn’t fucking liquid. But that wasn’t the kind of want this was. He wanted this to be a regular thing. To spend time like this. Jamie and Phoebe got on like a house of fire. And that made him insufferably endearing. Because Phoebe liking Jamie means a lot more to him than Roy even thought possible. And Jamie likes when people are happy. Roy used to think Jamie just liked the attention because of his ego. But now, Roy knows that it’s not his ego. Jamie is actually a people pleaser. Jamie craves validation. And fuck the way Jamie grins when looks at him like he is actually happy to see Roy. And Jamie said he cared about Roy. Fuck, it is too early for this many feelings. 

"Morning, Coach," Jamie grins. Roy just grunts. "For the man that bangs on my door at 4 a.m. almost every day, you aren't looking much like a morning person." Roy flips him off as he gets coffee, and Jamie laughs. Phoebe giggles too. And Roy gets the strangest feeling in his chest. It stops him in his tracks. The sound of Jamie and Phoebe laughing in Roy's kitchen, even if it is at his expense, gave him fucking butterflies. That was not a feeling Roy was expecting first thing in the fucking morning. He nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand touches his shoulder. He turns, and Jamie looks at him. The jovial mood is gone, replaced by a look of concern on the striker's face. "You good? Jokes aside, you gave everyone a hell of a scare yesterday. If you're not feeling it today, you can-"

"I'm fine, Tartt. Try not to burn my flat down making breakfast," Roy says to redirect the conversation because there was no fucking way he was going to tell Jamie that it felt like his skin was electric where Jamie touched him. Fuck. Roy needed to get his shit together. This was Jamie Tartt—Prince of all pricks. But Jamie had stayed with him since Roy started having trouble breathing. And if he wasn't with Roy, he had been with Phoebe. Never leaving her until she was safe and no longer afraid. Phoebe had told him when Jamie had gone to meet the takeaway delivery driver at the door after they got home that Jamie had kept her busy and made her forget how worried she was when they were waiting at the hospital. That he only left her if he absolutely needed to and always made sure someone on staff knew she was alone so they could at least check on her. Luckily they all knew her mum, so they didn't really mind a few minutes if Jamie needed to make a call or use the loo. But he only did that once or twice because he didn't want to leave her alone in case something happened. And that hit Roy hard. Jamie really did give his all to the people in his life. He cared about Phoebe. He had no obligation to do what he had done, but Jamie didn't seem to hesitate. Just like jamming the needle into Roy's leg. No hesitation because when Jamie Tartt cared, he went fucking hard. Just like on the pitch. Nothing else mattered. He's thinking steps ahead, analyzing threats, and coming up with contingencies. Give that anxious energy of his a task, and it gets done. Not always the conventional way, but it gets done. And his current task was breakfast for the three of them. 

Roy’s sister came round to pick up Phoebe after they ate. 

Jamie cleans up the mess he made for breakfast, despite Roy’s protest. Jamie just shrugs him off, saying it’s just to keep busy before they head out to training. 

Roy drives them both to training.

Roy finds himself watching Jamie more than usual as the team trains. 

Jamie goes over as they break for lunch. 

“I’m fine, Jamie. You don’t have to babysit me anymore,” Roy assures him as they head inside.

“Great, so does that mean you have no interest in getting lunch with me?” Jamie asks as he heads to the locker room. 

Unlike the last couple of meals, Roy does have the ability to say no. To spend time without Jamie, but the more Roy thinks about it, he actually wants to go with Jamie. So Roy follows Jamie. 

“I could eat,” Roy says and is glad he did because Jamie fucking smiles at him. And Roy’s stomach flips when Jamie nods. 

Roy finds that lunch is an easy affair. They get food at the canteen and find a table. It’s nothing out of Roy’s normal day, but it feels different. It feels comforting. It helped to calm the nerves he’d had since he walked through the locker room doors, and the team bombarded him with questions. His fellow coaches kept telling him to take it easy. The med team checked in with him multiple times, and Roy just wanted things to be normal. The only person that wasn’t actually acting insane was Jamie, but Jamie had been with Roy since he first realized what had happened at the cafe. Jamie had a front-row seat to Roy getting better. And Roy realizes how much Jamie has actually been dealing with while helping Roy. He’d been the one in contact with the team. He was the one fielding two dozen people wanting to know how Roy was doing. Jamie had kept his bosses in the loop and kept anyone from bothering Roy while he was recovering. Roy set his sandwich down and looked at Jamie.

“You alright?” Jamie asks, now studying Roy closely.

“I didn’t thank you,” Roy says bluntly. 

“For inviting you to get lunch where we both work?” Jamie asks.

“For fucking everything. For saving my life. For taking care of Phoebe. For dealing with these idiots,” Roy says, gesturing to the team members scattered around the tables of the canteen. “I’m a fucking prick for not thanking you sooner. So thank you, Jamie. For making sure I didn’t die because of a fucking smoothie.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Jamie says. 

“But I should. You didn’t have to do any of it. You could have just done nothing like most of the people there. The cafe workers barely did shit. You did it. And that’s not something I’m going to just write off. You saved my life. No one has to put on fucking suits and dress shoes for another funeral. You kept me alive. I owe you-”

“You don’t owe me shit, Roy,” Jamie says earnestly. “You’ve fucking seen me at my worst, and you didn’t hesitate to help me. Fucking hugged me, and you don’t hug anyone. You make sure I don’t fuck up and that I keep getting better. The fact you get up at fucking 3 a.m. so you can help me when you really don’t have to. You have done so fucking much for me, even when I used to be such a fucking prick. I can’t ever-”

“You’ve made me better too. You get that, right?” Roy says in all seriousness. “You challenge me the good way, always keeping me on my fucking toes. My sister and Phoebe think you bring out a fucking passion that I’d lost, that and Phoebe is fucking thrilled and keeps asking me if you’ll help her learn to ride a bike.” 

“Fuck yeah,” Jamie smiles. “If I could get your stubborn arse to do it, she’ll be a delight.”

“Guess I have to buy her a fucking bike now,” Roy grins.

“Fuck off,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll fucking love every minute of it.”  

“Fucking shops always upsell that shit,” Roy laments and goes back to eating, awkward feelings discussion seemingly over.”

Jamie ends up looking through bikes online and which shop to go to. Jamie doesn’t need to go with them, but he’s apparently going to. And Roy is oddly fine with the idea of Jamie joining them. To see Jamie and Phoebe doing mundane shit like he had that morning made Roy’s stomach flutter in a good way. 

Roy’s flat is too quiet. He wouldn’t have minded the quiet less than two days ago, but after having Jamie and Phoebe there to fill the space had been something he didn’t know he wanted. Even when Phoebe hadn’t been there, Jamie had. Even when he was just doing dishes, Jamie just had a way of filling the space, making it feel less empty. He would chat with Roy or just fucking exist, and that was enough to make it feel less lonely. And Roy couldn’t believe he was missing Jamie fucking Tartt. He might regret it, but he ends up texting Jamie and making plans for training the next morning. Because Jamie had missed one morning, and Roy was not going to be the reason Jamie slacked off. Jamie hadn’t argued. 

The next few days, Roy finds himself talking to and texting Jamie more than anyone else.

Keeley grins as she approaches Roy before their match against Brighton. 

“What?” Roy grunts. 

“How you feeling?” She asks.

“I’m fucking fine.” Roy is so tired of answering that question. He grunts and waves her off. 

“That’s good. How’s Jamie?” She grins.

“He’s fucking ready to fuck up Brighton,” Roy states. “How else would he be?”

“You tell me since you have been chatting him up,” Keeley studies his reaction. 

“Fuck off,” Roy glares at her. “I have not.” 

“So you haven’t been texting him for the past few days? Like actually texting him when you don’t need to.” Roy just grunts. “Admit it, Roy-o.” Keeley smiles. “You-”

Roy pulls her aside into his office and closes the door. 

“Whoa,” Keeley says, looking positively giddy. “You actually do have feelings for him, don’t you?” 

“Keeley, you can’t-”

“I won’t tell anyone, but you have to tell him,” Keeley insists. “Roy, he fucking adores you. Always has, but after that shit with his dad at Wembley.  And whatever happened in Amsterdam, he rarely talks about anyone else or anything. It's football, whatever PR I am helping him with, maybe his mum and you. I don't know how much he has told you, but that man fucking cried when he got home the other day. Like it was over 24 hours later, and it's like he finally could process everything. And the idea of losing you fucking hit him like a bus." 

"He did not tell me that," Roy says. 

"Of fucking course not. He probably thinks you'd think he's needy or too clingy."

"Fuck," Roy says as he sits down. He'd thought a lot about Jamie the last few days. But the idea that Jamie could feel the same way had never crossed his mind. Sure, Jamie said he cared for Roy. But they were mates now, and that was enough for Roy. Or it had been. "You really had to do this right before a fucking match," Roy says with a glare at Keeley.

"Sorry, not sorry," Keeley says and goes off to find Rebecca. 

They win because Jamie Tartt is a fucking mastermind on the pitch. Knows exactly where the ball needs to go and how to get it there. And Roy couldn't be more proud of him. As Roy makes his way out onto the pitch, he has the urge to fucking kiss the striker in front of a stadium full of fans. And that is a very fucking bad idea. So instead, he hugs Jamie and tells him he did fucking great. 

When the team makes it to the locker room, Jamie is flying high on the win and the fact Roy had actually smiled at him and hugged him. And Jamie doesn’t think his day can get better. But Roy drags him into the boot room, and before Jamie can say anything, Roy says he wants to kiss Jamie. Jamie just fucking nods, and then Roy fucking kisses him, and Jamie wonders if he is the one that almost died a few days ago because this has to be a dream because Roy has him backed against one of the shelves. One hand is in Jamie’s hair, and the other gripping his hip, and Jamie can only pull him closer and kiss him back. The door opens, and an amused Will walks in. Roy goes to pull away, but Jamie won't let him. 

“Don’t mind us, Mr. Kitman,” Jamie chuckles as he steps to the side and takes Roy by the wrist. Roy says nothing and refuses to make eye contact with Will as Jamie drags him out of the room. “Want to get out of here?” Jamie says lowly to Roy, looking up at him from under his lashes. And Roy answers him by gripping his face and kissing him again.

“Get your shit,” Roy says. “And get your arse in the fucking car.” Jamie fucking moans into Roy’s mouth when he kisses him one last time. Earning a few interesting looks from the nearest players, but no one says anything about it. No one gives them shit. And Roy can appreciate that. Jamie quickly gets out of his sweaty kit and shoves his jacket in his bag because fuck that. He’s in a hurry, and Roy is watching him with amusement because he is less than graceful as he hurries. They don’t say a word to anyone as they leave. They barely say anything until they are locked away in Roy’s flat. 

“You know the entire team will know by tonight, right?” Jamie says as he kicks off his shoes and tosses his bag near the wall. 

“Fuck ‘em,” Roy says as he takes his jacket off and tosses it aside. 

“Rather be the one fucked,” Jamie grins, and Roy growls. “That’s some articulate response there, coach. Didn’t quite get that, did you-” Roy cuts Jamie off with an aggressive kiss. It’s all passion and teeth as he bites Jamie’s lip. Jamie gives him what he wants and opens his mouth to him. Roy pins him to the wall and fucking explores Jamie as well as he can while they are both fully clothed in the fucking hallway. And as much as Jamie would happily let Roy fuck him against the wall in his entryway, he knows Roy’s knee is fucked, and he wants Roy to actually enjoy being with Jamie. So Jamie has to pull away. Roy growls when, again, Jamie slips out from between him and where Roy had him pinned. But his annoyance is gone when he looks over at Jamie. Jamie is already pulling his shirt over his head and heading down the hall. 

“You coming or what?” Jamie smirks as he tosses his shirt at Roy. Roy catches it and drops it on top of Jamie’s bag, and follows Jamie down the hall. He tugs his own shirt off as he reaches his bedroom and tosses it aside. Jamie’s trackies are gone. Roy can understand why Keeley went back to Jamie for a good time after they broke up because fucking hell, Jamie Tartt had to have been sculpted by a higher power. And Roy doesn’t hesitate. He’s on Jamie before the smug prick can make a joke about Roy eye fucking him. A breathless laugh is all Jamie manages as Roy gets Jamie in his bed. Jamie is less talkative in bed than Roy would have thought. Sure, he had a fucking dirty mouth, but Roy fucking loves the wordless noises that Jamie makes as Roy methodically takes him apart and fucking ruins Jamie Tartt. The way Jamie moans his name pushes Roy over the edge, and they both end up panting for breath side by side in Roy’s bed. But that has an unexpected reaction from Jamie. Roy had expected him to maybe be a cuddler. Jamie is on his side and looking down at Roy, studying him. And Roy realizes Jamie is a lot less relaxed than he was a second ago. 

“What?” Roy manages to ask. “What’s wrong?” And Roy is unnerved when Jamie just shakes his head lays down with his head on Roy’s chest. Jamie is silent. His ear was over Roy’s heart.

And Roy gets it. Roy had been trying to catch his breath. The last time Jamie heard him struggling to breathe was far less enjoyable for both of them. So he runs his fingers through Jamie’s hair silently. But he knows he has to say something when he hears Jamie sniffle. 

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” Roy says, wrapping his arms around Jamie to emphasize his point.   

"Sorry," Jamie mutters.

"Don't be," Roy says honestly. 

"That's the thing, I know you're fine, I really do." He shifts so he can see Roy. 

"Bit better than fine," Roy grins.

Jamie huffs a laugh, but it seems half-hearted.

"I know but-"

"But it is an impulsive reaction. No rationality to it. Just you hear it, and you can't help but react."

"Yeah, fucking annoying," Jamie laments. 

"It's fucking adorable," Roy says.

"Is not," Jamie says. "Me being stupid afraid is not adorable."11

"It's a trauma reaction, Jamie," Roy tells him. "PTSD shit. You can't predict what triggers that shit. You know that. I think it's adorable because it means even when you aren't worried about what is going on, part of your brain is still making sure I'm not dying."

"Well, it doesn't feel adorable," Jamie sighs. Move until he can tuck his head into Roy's neck. Roy holds him close. 

"I'm sure it doesn't," Roy agrees. "But we can work on it. If it's trauma-based, then it'll get better in time."

"Except it could fucking happen again," Jamie points out.

"And we'll fucking deal with it again if it does."

"Roy," Jamie moves to get up. And Roy lets him because he knows Jamie does not do well if he can't move. 

"Jamie," Roy says back, and it somehow sounds like a challenge, and Jamie doesn't know what to say now. Roy shakes his head and disappears into his bathroom. He tosses something Jamie catches on muscle memory alone. Jamie looks down, and it's another EpiPen. 

"There, and there's a new one in the glove box, and Gayle got two more for Nelson Road. They already have them for public first aid. One is in my desk, and the other is in the treatment room now too. Does that make you feel better?" 

"It does a bit," Jamie says. 

"Just a bit?" 

"Means you took what I said seriously," Jamie says.

"Of fucking course I did," Roy says as he starts to put on a pair of pants. "Did you think I would just shrug it off?"

"Maybe," Jamie says as he gets partially dressed. 

"Well, I didn't because it fucking sucked for me but also for you and Phoebe. And the team." 

"You also could have fucking died," Jamie says flatly, and Roy goes over to him and pulls him close. 

"But I didn't because of you. And I'll try and make sure it won't happen again. Can't fucking guarantee anything, but I will try because I don't want any of you to worry."

"I'm going to worry, just like you do," Jamie says. "Because I care."

"And it blows my fucking mind you do," Roy admits. 

"Fuck it," Jamie says and drags Roy towards the ensuite. "We're going to shower, then getting food, and then get fucking dirty again." 

"Sounds good to me."

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - August 8-14

Like these weekly* compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon! (*sorry this one’s a day late, I had a family emergency)

1. Rio’s grassroots agroforestry sustains birds, bees & communities

“[Community-created and -maintained] agroforests have reshaped the urban landscape and now attract an array of fauna, from birds to bees and even fireflies, drawn by the diversity of plant life thriving on improved soils. Perhaps most importantly, the agroforests offer free food and medicines to residents in need, plus shade and educational opportunities for the whole community[….]”

2. First giant pandas from China in decades make their public debut in San Diego

(image source) “Tensions between the U.S. and China had temporarily paused the program known as "panda diplomacy" in which China loans its native animals to zoos around the world […] as a show of goodwill[….] But the presence of [the two pandas in San Diego] appears to show a mending of the diplomatic relationship, which Chinese President Xi Jinping pledged to work toward in a meeting with President Biden last year. [… Gov. Newsom] called the giant pandas an example of how strong worldly partnerships can protect wildlife and their habitats[….]”

3. Good news for Europe's top economies as disposable income rises

“Poland experienced the largest increase in disposable income per capita, rising by 10.2% compared with a decrease of 2.7% in the last quarter of 2023. According to the OECD, this growth was "mainly driven by increases in employee compensation, social benefits other than in-kind transfers, and property income". […] In Germany, [household income per capita] rose by 1.4%, compared to just 0.1% in the previous quarter, partly driven by an increase in employee compensation.”

4. FDA approves nasal spray as first needle-free treatment for anaphylaxis

“The spray, which will be sold under the brand name Neffy, is seen as an alternative to EpiPen and other autoinjectors. […] “Some people, particularly children, may delay or avoid treatment due to fear of injections,” said Kelly Stone, an associate director at the FDA’s Center for Drug Evaluation and Research, adding that the availability of the nasal spray may reduce barriers to rapid treatment.”

5. [Colin Farrell] is launching a foundation to support adult[s] who have an intellectual disability

““We want to take a good look at residential potential for families with young adults who are ready to go out into the world and have a greater sense of community and connection,” says the actor. […] "It’s really important for James and for all of our kids to feel like they are wanted, to feel like they’re part of the community. Not just out of charitable endeavors or being nice and doing the right thing, but out of a sincere desire to engage and learn about each other."”

6. The Berlin Zoo is hoping for more German-born giant pandas as scans confirm a pregnancy

“Giant pandas have difficulty breeding and births are particularly welcomed. There are about 1,800 pandas living in the wild in China and a few hundred in captivity worldwide. […] The zoo noted that female pandas are only capable of reproducing for about 72 hours per year.”

7. Arizona school district highlights the benefits of free lunch

“A study by the University of Washington found free meals at school help reduce hunger, reduce the stigma tied to free lunch, and can help reduce childhood obesity. [… A cafeteria worker] said since the school district began offering free lunch, they have seen a positive shift in the cafeteria culture, and students seem happier. […] In September of 2023, the USDA […] loosened up its application threshold for applicants, allowing an estimated 3,000 more school districts in high-need areas to participate in the [CEP] program.”

8. Gigantic millipede lost to science for 126 years rediscovered in remote Madagascan jungle

“A further 20 species 'lost' to science were rediscovered during the expedition, including three iridescent species of fish and several species of ant-like flower beetles.”

9. The climate law’s $8.8B in home energy rebates are starting to roll out

“New York and Wisconsin are the first to launch their long-awaited Inflation Reduction Act programs meant to deploy everything from heat pumps to insulation. […] Once deployed, the DOE estimates, the home energy rebates will help save consumers up to $1 billion in annual energy costs and support an estimated 50,000 U.S. jobs in construction, manufacturing, and other sectors. They’ll also help clean up buildings, one of the biggest sources of carbon pollution in the country.”

10. Advance in stem cell therapy: New technique for manipulating stem cells opens door to novel treatments

“Recently, a team of McGill researchers discovered that by stretching, bending and flattening the nuclei of stem cells to differing degrees, they could generate precisely targeted cells that they could direct to become either bone or fat cells. […] The first applications of this discovery are likely to involve bone regeneration, possibly relating to dental or cranio-facial repair[….]”

August 1-7 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[opossum-by-night]

(TW: medical emergency)

Oh, also, the raccoon had a horrible anaphylactic reaction over the weekend and we didn't have an EpiPen so we had to rush him to the emergency room while his throat was actively closing up and then he had to spend the night at the hospital, but the bright side is that I got to use my one and only life skill of Being Really Good in a Crisis™

[the-entity-down-the-street]

Can we talk more about how having severe allergies puts mortal fear into your soul at a young age?

Like "hey kid I know you're like five, but your body has a design flaw where if you eat (or sometimes even share a space with) {allergen} you essentially drown on land, and instead of water rushing into your airways, your body turns against you, tongue and throat swelling until breathing is completely cut off. You're surrounded by oxygen, yet it's completely inaccessible. Only way to *temporarily* keep that from happening is to stab yourself in the thigh with a needle full of panic chemicals. Also avoiding your allergen is mostly on you because restaurants won't think twice about frying potential allergens in the same oil as the goddamn fries (or worse, they use an oil made from your allergen), the folks bringing potluck dishes don't provide listed ingredients (and you shouldn't trust their word alone), and your allergen shows up in unexpected places because nobody thinks about this stuff if their literal life isn't on the line. Have fun with that!"

What in the Junji Ito Clive Barker David Lynch horrific fuck is this body/psychological horror shit

[mixedfandomer]

I was watching Knives out: glass onion with my friend and the scene where Duke dies via pineapple allergy (seriously that is why you should keep something for allergies on you at all times if possible) and I immediately connected the dots and yelled at the screen “GET AN EPIPEN HE’S DIEING OF PINEAPPLE” and my friend asked how I knew that’s how he died (but not in a spoiler way more like a what in this scene makes you think that way) and I couldn’t explain it I still have no idea why I knew that

[nocontactdiaries]

Three years ago, I almost died. I have a severe anaphylactic allergy to an ingredient in dyes. I learnt this the hard way- the hospital way. The multiple-doctors-pumping-me-with-meds-to-keep-me-alive sort of way. I didn't tell any biological family that I'd nearly died until a week after getting out of hospital, as I was swollen to the point of being disfigured, and didn't feel like dealing with guests. When I told my father, and explained what it meant for me moving forward and the restrictions I now have to live with, like potentially being unable to get more tattoos in future, he replied with "Good." He himself has an anaphylaxis allergy. He's been hospitalised a couple of times due to his allergy. He knows how terrifying anaphylaxis is. He knows. "Good." Some days the guilt of estrangement is crushing, a huge weight upon my chest, a self-flagellation of shame. I feel so bad for cutting off my elderly father, knowing that he says I am his "purpose in life"- and then some days I remember.

I remember that he tried to drown me as a child. I remember the drug and alcohol abuse that featured through most of my childhood. I remember the physical violence he inflicted. I remember that he didn't come visit me after I'd told him that I'd nearly died. He didn't even ask how I was feeling. He didn't call to check up on me. He didn't ask how I was healing, or show any empathy at all. I remember that he told me "good." "Good."

[bdluejay]

everybody masc til they gotta inject themself for the first time

[wuhkie]

big gansey energy tonight yall (tried to watch sunset) (got stung by a wasp) (every square inch of body covered in hives)

[charismatic-writer]

Just got my EpiPen today, so here are the steps on how to administer it. In case you are ever in a situation where you need to use it. It could save someone's life

[cachien]

.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Addams Allergy

Pairings: Thornhill x Weems x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.7K

Summary: Reader's allergy is a thing of myth, and someone decides to do some myth-busting. This won't end well for anyone.

TW: allergies, anaphylaxis, needles, hospitals, ambulance, difficulty breathing, bullying, attempted manslaughter (fancy legal terms hehe), mentioned heart attacks, physical violence

A/n I have added a link at the end for very simple instructions for how to administer an epipen. Spend like three minutes reading it and save lives. Also please reblog the linked post to help other educate themselves as well.

You suppose it wasn’t too bad being an Addams. But then again you weren’t quite the same as your sister Wednesday. You were more of an interim between Pugsly and Wednesday. You were soft but not squishy, cold but not frigid. You were actually most likely the most seemingly normal of all the Addams’s.

But being Wednesdays twin, you shared many things, a womb (for all of nine tortuous months), black hair, pale skin and your most inconvenient shared trait, an allergy to colour. Luckily though you did not share a dorm. You were roomed with Yoko who was much more palatable than the ball of colour who was Wednesday's ‘roomie’ as the wolf-pup had put it.

Unfortunately, most people were sceptical bordering on disbelieving about the colour allergy. Taking it as another Addams lie. And you being the easier target of the two of you often copped the most teasing. Everyone knew not to mess with Wednesday, but you were slightly easier. You cared more.

Yoko and you were sat in the library studying at the tables down the back when a group of siren boys came in. They had been teasing you a lot as of late and Yoko knew about it, but you begged her to keep quiet, you didn’t want to attract any more attention than you already had.

The boys were quick to spot you down the back and grinned wolfishly beelining straight for you. You let out a soft groan and Yoko looked up.

“If they lay a hand on you, I’ll drain them dry.”

“It's fine Yoko. I’ve got this.”

“The same way you ‘had it’ when you got a black eye i had to help you hide for two weeks?” She asked with a deadset tone. You grumbled a response when you felt your chair being pulled back.

“Hey!” Yoko said, “leave her alone.” She started but one of the boys spoke with his siren song.

“Sit” he commanded, and Yoko found herself no longer in control of her muscles as she sat and watched helplessly.

“So, a birdie told me your allergic to colour?” The main boy said, he was light-skinned with deep rich blue eyes and blonde curls. He looked like the type to be a surfer with the tan he had.

“That would be correct.” You nodded trying to remain calm and mimic your sister's tone.

“Well, how about we check you still have this … so called ‘allergy’” he said in a mocking tone. Pulling something from his pocket, you tried and failed to stop your eyes widening.

Between his thumb and forefinger was probably the most colourful and bright piece of fabric you had ever seen.

Despite the allergy, you hadn’t given any of your friends and epipen for you yet and the only people who had one were the nurses and weems. So, in other words unless Yoko was fast at running because the headmistress's office wasn’t too far, you may be looking at the object that would kill you.

Drawing a shaky breath, you looked the boy in the eyes. “As much as i love attempted murder, this isn’t a good idea.” You said

“Huh? Really?” He mocked “You think your smarter than me, don’t you?” He sneered and you gulped.

“Obviously.” You muttered and the boy scowled. Before you could stop him, he pinned you to the floor and shoved the scrap of fabric in your mouth. Your eyes went wide, and you began to flail and kick wildly trying to get him off.

Yoko was screaming bloody murder which seemed appropriate on more than one front.

After a second the boy rolled off you and stood brushing off his uniform.

“See… lies.” He said as you rolled onto your stomach, propped up on your elbows and spitting out the wet cloth onto the floor.

“Gross.” The boy said.

“You moron, let me go i need to get her epipen.” Yoko screamed and the boy's face morphed into something else for a second.

“Wait is she … actually?” He asked starting to look a little scared.

“Yes, you tool what would she gain from a fake allergy. Now let me go.” Yoko screamed and the boy froze before bolting. Luckily as he grew further away Yoko felt his song fading. She stood running over to you. You were laid on your back gasping as the anaphylaxis began to set in.

“W-weems.” You rasped and then coughed, your throat feeling ridiculously tight. Yoko nodded.

“You’ll be ok Y/n/n. Im going to get weems.” She said and raced out the doors.

Yoko ran the fastest she probably ever had in her immortal life. In a matter of seconds, she was banging hand over fist on the wooden doors before she simply pushed the open wasting no time.

“Ms Tanaka-“ Weems began, she was sat on the couch with Ms Thornhill looking equally startled.

“No time… y/n … epipen…now.” Yoko said between gasps. In a second both teachers were on their feet. Weems hurried over to her desk throwing open the second draw and pulling out the epipen she kept there just for you.

“Where is she?” Weems said with a commanding and scarily calm voice.

“Library.” Yoko replied and the three of them ran to the room of books.

Yoko led the two teachers to the back of the room where you were still gasping. Luckily for them you were already on the floor which made this next part easier.

“Christ.” Weems said, “Marilyn, call an ambulance.” She commanded as she uncapped the giant needle.

The Botany teacher scrambled to find her phone pulling it out and punching in the numbers for the emergency services.

Weems mentally recited the rhyme from when she had to do this for Morticia as a student as she pulled off the blue safety cap.

‘Blue to the sky orange to the mid-outer thigh.’ She thought and in one swift motion she lined it up with your thigh, Yoko having helped her pull down your skirt. She quickly stabbed your outer-mid thigh listening for the click and then counting to three before gently removing it. She gingerly deposited the epipen on the table.

The two teachers sat either-side of you while Yoko sat next to Ms Thornhill on your left. Your breathing began to even out, becoming less and less raspy as the epinephrine began to take effect.

Ms Thornhill was still on the phone with the emergency services who had assured her they were on their way now.

Both teachers and the vampire sat and watched with bated breath as they realised your breathing had stabilised.

After about ten minutes you tried to sit up, but the headmistress placed a hand on your shoulder.

“No. Stay lying down the EMTs will be here soon darling. Then I’ll come with you to the hospital, and they’ll check you out alright?” She said and you nodded and laid back down.

“Can i come too? I need to tell you something.” Yoko said and Weems made a thinking face and then nodded.

“Yes. After all, I do need to know how this happened. The Addams family know their limits and are quite good at avoiding this so any insight you could provide would be helpful.” The principal said and Yoko nodded. After another few minutes of tense silence, the emergency services came in and the paramedics gently lifted you onto a clean white stretcher. You hated the idea but luckily weems made sure nobody saw as you were taken to the ambulance that sat by the nevermore gates. Yoko and Weems joined you in the ambulance and Ms Thornhill waved as you were driven off.

About an hour later you were being held for observation. It was another three hours before they would let you go. You were sat up in a hospital bed with Yoko and weems sat in plastic chairs beside you.

“This feels like one hell of a power imbalance.” You muttered and both of them laughed.

“Well, you did just cheat death.” Yoko teased and you nodded.

“As an Addams it's an expected weekly occurrence. Kind of like a grim ostentatious weekly period.” You grinned always finding ways to relate everything to blood. Yoko groaned dramatically and facepalmed.

“And as the principal of two Addams’s who weekly try and take me with them to then grave, I’d say I’m cheating death myself with the number of heart attacks you and your sister attempt to induce upon my poor heart.” Weems said sounding exasperated.

“It wasn’t y/n/n’s fault though!” Yoko exclaimed and weems raised a brow while you opted to look out the window and avoid eye contact.

“You never did explain how this happened.” Weems said gesturing with a sweeping motion to the bed you were still in.

“Well i guess now’s as good as any and i doubt Ms. I-cheat-death-daily is going to spill.” Yoko said before launching into an explanation starting a few weeks ago when the teasing began. It was safe to say the principal was outraged.

“I will not have students attempting to murder each other.” She huffed with pure unadulterated rage in her eyes burning with fire, rage and brimstone with the likeness of hell itself. The look would have scared Satan into being as straight as a nun.

In a matter of seconds, she drew a deep calming breath, and you were reminded of the saying, the calm before the storm. Then she opened her eyes again and excused herself, walking out into the hallway and pulling out her phone. Not even five minutes after Yoko’s story ended, she was on the phone in the school board arranging his immediate expulsion.

About a half hour later, Weems returned looking flustered but when her eyes settled on you, she deflated slightly and gave a tender smile in your direction. Her eyes locked with yours, scanning for any hints of pain.

She had also texted the anxious botanist who had agreed to come by once you were discharged to drive the odd team home. As well as ordering about a dozen epipens for all your close friends and her office.

Once Weems had decided you were defiantly not in pain, she walked over to your bedside and gently brushed the hair from your eyes.

“It's dealt with darling. Nobody will hurt you now.” She assured and you blushed slightly at the contact, leaning into her hand.

You were safe. Alive. Breathing normally. And safe … again.

Masterlist

How to give an epipen here

[aysun-demir]

The apprehension was all but rolling off her in waves. She knew now that he hadn't been speaking to her earlier, a welcome discovery, but that didn't mean the man wasn't dangerous. The Elders had always cautioned against interacting with strangers, especially when there weren't others around, and it was just the two of them hidden away in a corner of the gardens. If he was a supernatural, she really didn't have any way of defending herself from him- then again, she didn't really have much of a chance at defending herself even if he was human. It was a sobering thought, and one that helped her decide that she was indeed going to make her exit, politeness be damned.

And yet, something had her feet hesitating, brows pinching together as she looked over the man again. Something wasn't right, and not in the sense that she thought he was dangerous either. He looked...unwell, almost. Could it be some sort of elaborate ruse? Perhaps, but something told her it'd be incredibly hard to fake those red blotches that were appearing all over his face. "Oh!" she gasped when the man stumbled and doubled over, her feet automatically carrying her closer as her nursing instincts kicked in despite herself. "Oh gosh, you look like you're having a reaction to something, do you know what it is?" she asked worriedly, foregoing any sense of decorum as she proceeded to feel him up in an attempt to locate the epipen she'd seen him holding just moments ago. "I'm sorry I- where is your pen?" she rambled, continuing to look with one hand as she pulled out her phone with the other, "oh god, please don't die, I'm- I'm calling an ambulance okay, just- just hold on."

Royce raised a brow in amusement. A pretty face was always a welcome sight to him, but she spoke in such a flustered and surprised manner that for a second he thought he was the one to catch her by surprise and not the other way around. He flashed a smile of perfectly white teeth, a small chuckle reverberating in his chest at the dawning realization. A small reprieve from the anxiety that that blasted buzzing beastie gave him. At least, for the faintest of moments. He was opening his mouth to speak again, to say some clever and charming something about communal gardens and vegetables, when he had felt a sharp sort of sting right on his exposed hand. With wide brown eyes, he looked down at his trembling hand, the indent and redness of a sting evident on his pale skin. He swallowed, but he could already feel the symptoms. The swelling, a tightness in his chest and throat which he found he could not swallow against. An irritable itch, likely hives, and the rapid dance of his heart rate. Royce was fast then to pull his epipen out, trying to keep himself calm and centered as he jammed it into his outer thigh. You’re fine, Royce. It’s okay, you’re okay. This is not how we die.

He knew it would be fast acting, but he needed to think quickly, carelessly shoving the pen into his apron pocket and trying to fish for his phone. But he was dizzy, oh just a tad dizzy, and everything felt a bit fuzzy. “Oh it’s nothing,” he slurred a bit around his swollen tongue and throat, feeling the thin phone in his pocket and trying to pull it out. “It’s just my epipen…” This beautiful stranger was speaking about leaving and he shook his head at her. At least that’s what he told himself to do, but he wasn’t actually sure if he had managed the movement, so he raised his hand and shook it instead, stupidly losing his grip on his phone and letting it fall to the dirt box he’d been doubled over previously. “Well fuck,” he mumbled, and motioned at her. “If you insist on going, that’s fine, but can you maybe do me a favor first?” He looked up at her, imagine he looked odd and swollen and possibly covered in hives, which was really not hot at all. “Could you call an ambulance first?”

[roachsideblog]

Goretober Day 12: Overworked

Thanks @nonsenseafterdark for the prompt list!

Day 11 here on my nsfw blog @sideroachblog (NO MINORS)

Words: 598

Pairings: None specifically, GhostRoach if you want! Or SoapRoach at the very end.

TWs: low blood sugar, fainting, needles/injections

Summary: A substitute Lieutenant overworks the team and Roach's body can't take it.

~~~

Roach stumbled off the track. His legs shook, body weak, sweaty, and ravenous, mood abysmally cranky. A familiar feeling, but definitely worse than usual. Unfortunately, Lieutenant Riley was out for an appointment, and the platoon leader that took them over skipped lunch hour to squeeze in vehicle maintenance before afternoon training. Dinner was hours away.

“You good, Sanderson?” Lieutenant Johnson asked.

“Fine,” he replied, voice weaker than expected.

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Roach’s heartbeat wasn’t slowing and his hands shook, too. The world spun and his eyelids drooped.

Sensing something wrong, the man lunged forward just as he collapsed, managing to cushion his head from hitting the asphalt.

Roach woke propped up on a bench. Two medics flanked him, one checking his pulse while the other pricked his finger and collected a drop of blood into a glucose meter. Johnson filled his blurry vision.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty! Glad you came back to us,” one of the medics smiled.

The other said, “Thank god, our next step was to take your temperature. I see enough assholes in the shower room—the less I have to see on the clock, the better.”

The first exclaimed, “Holy fuck, that’s low!”

Roach barely registered what they said, nor when they rushed into action. His brain processed the sharp pain in his thigh—an epipen? He groaned as it shot liquid into his muscle. His consciousness began fading again. Did it not work?

The second time his eyes opened he still felt awful, but better at least.

Ghost’s voice greeted him. “How low was it?”

“Forty milligrams per deciliter. Fifty-five is considered dangerously low. We gave him a shot of Glucagon. That should wake him up soon. We’ll wait another five, check his blood sugar again, then give another dose if needed.”

Roach groaned. One of the medics sat him up straight, popped a bendy straw into some apple juice, and shoved the drink in his hands. He sucked it down before she even instructed him. The empty box was ripped away and replaced with a full one.

Ghost’s hand rested on his shoulder. “MacTavish is getting you a sandwich,” he said, rage poorly concealed in his voice. “You’ll feel better soon.”

The first medic turned to the stand-in Lieutenant. “Now that he’s alive, I get to scold you. Do not make me do this ever again. Take care of your sergeants so they aren’t dropping like flies.”

“Hey, the other ones are fine! He was fine until the end.”

“No the hell he wasn’t. Low blood sugar doesn’t just creep up to the point where you faint out of nowhere. Forty is potentially life threatening.”

“Right, right, my bloody apologies. I’ll give the toddlers a snack break next time, Christ.”

The medic said, “Damn right, you will.”

Soap rocketed into view from the left and slid to a stop on the asphalt in front of them, losing traction and slipping onto his ass, chest heaving. He saved the sandwich though, holding up a paper wrapper for Roach to snatch.

“Thanks, Soap," Ghost said. "Go get yourself some water.”

“Aye, Sir. How ye feelin,’ Roach?”

He shook his head through a massive bite of sandwich—peanut butter and jelly.

Ghost growled, “Lieutenant Johnson, meet me in my office in twenty minutes. They may be done chewing you out, but you’ve not been spit out yet.”

“And what are you saying, Riley? We’re equals, you know.”

“I’m gonna rip you a new one. If you won’t hear it from me, I’ll get Price in there with me. You’ll be lucky if you can sit by next week.”

[jhscdood]

i woke up in a Bad Headspace today and imma use by blog to vent about it like it's livejournal circa 2004.

tw for discussion of medical stuff

- I hate xmas. I'm jewish but my dad is not and the pressure to have An Perfect Xmas every year and the disappointment every year just grosses me out now. Not even going to talk about american xtian hegemony but there's some of that in there too.

- Today i began to suspect that the awesome new migraine med that actually stops my weather-induced migraines might also be interfering with the efficiacy of my prediabetes meds. or maybe im wrong and im Just That Fucking Exhausted.

- Spouse spent all last week recovering from a severe medication allergy and hives on 70% of his body. and steroids Do Not Agree with him so it was just. a wild time. terrifying af. stood over him with an EpiPen basically the entire time.

- 3 days before The Hives, i scratched my cornea while pruning bushes and that right there is a pain i do not ever want to revisit. had to go to the optometrist and get The Goo.

- 2 days before Cornea i had my first Botox For Migraine treatment. 31 injections to the face, neck and shoulders. it stung but it was over in like 4 minutes. takes 3 sessions to start kicking in. sessions are 12 weeks apart. so i guess we'll find out in August if it's working.

- day before Botox i had an ENT appointment and he stuck a camera up my nose and then diagnosed me with a weird vocal cord paralysis thing so now i have to go back to speech therapy for the first time in 26 years.

- Week before that, saw my neurologist and she diagnosed me with a weird intermittent lazy eye / motion lag thingamawhatsis so now i have to go to an ophthalmologist AND vision therapy.

- That week I also saw my PCP and explained to her about the intermittent abdominal pain I've been having since like 2021. She took me seriously!!! Which is good!!! But now i am scheduled for baby's first colonoscopy. And i have to keep a food journal, which i HATE because food is STUPID.

- All of the above all happened this month btw. December 1-23.

- My final appt in November was yet another ultrasound of my former left tit because there is an oil cyst at the site of my top surgery and they are VERY SURE it is a benign oil cyst but the rules require them to poke it every few months for 2-3 years.

- Before that I had a 48 hour ambulatory EEG which was the itchiest i have ever been in my LIFE. That same week our basement stairs collapsed and a contractor had to come rebuild them (up! to! code!). That same week i also went to the dentist to get my crown fitted.

- I think my MIL was in the hospital that same week, too. so that's a thing that's been going on the whole time since then.

- I spent most of October deathly ill with food poisoning thst was originally misdiagnosed as viral. I ended up with a CT scan and colitis. and, eventually, cipro. it was the sickest i have ever been in my adult life. i would rather have mono again. i fantasized about those cholera beds with the hole in the center so you didnt have to get up to have your horrid dysentery. nightmare.

- The day before that hit i had ONE golden day where i felt good and had energy. we went to temple and i got glomped by about 10 different people. my 80 year old bestie kept finding me to hug me again. Rabbi hugged me super hard.

- Before that was a root canal, and before that was a tooth infection that took 2 rounds of antibiotics to kill, and before that was the original cavity filling that started it all. the dentist kindly comped me the $172 for the filling against the $3,800 bill for the root canal + crown.

- Before that? IDEK man. I have lost track. Somewhere in there i got diagnosed with insulin resistance which explained my HORRENDOUSLY TERRIBLE fatigue and cloudiness and waking up starving every 3 hours. The meds they gave me changed that literally overnight. it was a miracle. which is why im freaking out about the new migraine med possibly counteracting that. i spent the entirety of last summer in a fog. several of my very good friends visited and all i could do was nap on them. i couldnt go anywhere or do anything. it was a nightmare. i don't want to go back to that. but also i don't want to have a migraine every time the wind blows. but i would rather have a migraine 50% of the time than be back to that fatigue fogged state 100% of the time. nope nope nope.

- and amongst all of this, still having the seizures. they were going down for a while but the last week or so has been 1-2 per day. so. another checkmark in the "gee do you think you're stressed?" column.

- it is going on 10pm and I'm tired so i very likely have accidentally omitted several other things. to be fair to me, there's Quite A Bit to remember.

- so if youre wondering why i havent updated my latest fic, its partly bc i am TIRED and partly bc if i gave jason even a third of the health bullshit i have dealt with the past few months, it would absolutely defy belief. TWO kinds of eye problems AND a speech problem AND food poisoning AND dentistry?? surely no one in the world has to deal with that much!

sigh. anyway. thanks for listening. i promise i am stressed out of my GOURD but, shockingly, have not slid into any sort of depressive space. mostly im just annoyed. i spent today watching dinosaur documentaries and reorganizing my craft supplies.

tomorrow will be better. today just sucked.

[aswallowimprisoned]

Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - prewarmed blanket - Part 1 of Panaesthesia at the disco

Part 1 of 2

Tw drug/medication overdose, captivity, medical whump, injury, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, restraints

RestlessffaWDs' timeline is going off piste for @medwhumpmay

No idea where this is meant to be in the timeline. But I like it.

masterlist

≪ °❈° ≫

Nurse Brunel woke him. 

“Hey there Nathaniel.” Brunel’s voice was soft, “Your body temperature was just a bit low, so I am  just going to get you a blanket.”

Nathaniel tried to speak, but his lips hung loosely on his face.

His lips twisted down and his eyes pinched.

“It’s ok, it's ok” the nurse repeated, but clearly he could not know the tingling numbness that was climbing up Nathaniel’s arms. He was dimly aware that he was shivering.

“He’s conscious, but blood oxygen is far too low,” Brunel reached out to touch Nathaniel’s hand, but his fingers were curled around fabric and refused his order to unclench, “Cyanosis in the fingers and lips. It looks like a barbiturate overdose,” his speech quickened, “I need assistance, STAT, and an anesthesiologist to check their maths and work out whatever dose of flumazenil is going to stabilise him.” 

There was a clattering from beneath the bed, and Nathaniel’s head pulsed at the noise. Brunel’s hands blocked out the bright light for a moment, and Nathaniel snapped his teeth at them half heartedly, barely opening his mouth. Plastic was pressed around his nose and mouth, and suddenly his dragging breath seemed to amplify. 

He closed his eyes.

“Don’t go to sleep Fogal.” Brunel patted his cheek, “Come on, Fogal. Open your eyes.”

Nathaniel cracked his eyes open. Brunel looked concerned. 

“We'll get you feeling better in a moment. Come on and breath for me. In… and out…”

Nathaniel forced himself to follow along, but he was exhausted. He thought he might be shaking, but he couldn't be sure.

“You- hold his mask on, keep his head tipped back like this…” Brunel’s hands left Nathaniel’s head, only to be replaced by thick gloved hands. He closed his eyes again. “Adrenaline?-” Brunel spoke to someone Nathaniel couldn’t see, “- I have it here, going to go for the left upper arm” Brunel scrabbled for something attached to the bed above his head. “Fogal, there will be a sharp pain in your arm ok? Administering Epipen.”

Nathaniel barely felt the pain, but moments later the world shifted into sharp focus.

Oh Lord, he was dying wasn't he.

His eyes snapped open as he struggled weakly, trying to toss off the oxygen mask, but hands held his head firmly. There was someone all in black looming over him, grey eyes behind goggles. Nathaniel couldn't stop staring into them, pleading for mercy, begging for the feeling to go. Someone was whimpering. Nathaniel couldn't tell if it was him or not.

“Heart rate has increased, adrenaline bought us some time. Adjusting the bed to aid avoidance of hypotension.” Brunel spoke formally, almost brusk, before adding more softly, “Your head’s going to go down, ok?”

It took him a second to realise that he truly was falling backwards. He tried to writhe again, but his body wasn't responding.

“Keep breathing Fogal,” Brunel placed a hand on his shoulder, “In… and out…”

More people burst into the room at that point, a loud voice barking orders. He could almost feel the ghost sensation of people touching him. All he could see was the dark head of the guard looming above him, blurred through drugs and tears.

“...Flumazenil here, administering first dose to IV line...”

“...Body temperature has not risen to the mer standard for consciousness.”. 

“Brunel. Blankets. Get his body temperature up.” 

He was so scared. He was surrounded by strangers, drugged out of his mind and it took everything he had to just to keep breathing.

A blanket was put over him, blessedly preheated, and he could finally feel his skin.

“Fogal,” Brunel was addressing him, looming above him. Nathaniel stared up at him with wide eyes, tears gathering in the corners. “The medicine is going to start working in a minute ok? Anxiety is one of the side effects, but I promise you we are trying to help. I promise we want to make you feel well again.” He looked up to speak to the guard, “and it might make him vomit. Turn his head to the side if he does so he doesn’t choke.”

Then he disappeared back into the throng of senseless voices. Nathaniel watched the spot he left and the world swirled like a ship in a storm.

“2 minutes since flumazenil dose one. Administering dose 2 now.”

Nathaniel closed his eyes and focused on heaving in two large breaths. He tangled his fingers in the warmth of the blanket.

“...Heart rate is improving well. Body temperature rising. Check for bilateral pupillary reflex...”

“Keep your eyes open for me Fogal. I am going to flash a light in your eye…” The smooth tones of Dr Rana. Nathaniel blinked away moisture to look at the doctor. “Keep his O2 mask on firmly. I don't want to be bitten today.”

Bright light flashed into his vision. He screwed his eyes shut.

“Try keep your eyes open please.” The doctor's words were clipped, and Nathaniel reluctantly opened his eyes again, only to be subjected to the bright light again. “Pupils are dilated but even, and pupillary response is slow, but not dangerously so, as is response to verbal prompts.”  

Nathaniel blinked back more tears. He didn't understand what was going on. The guard holding his head shifted his thumb through Nathaniel’s hair. He let out a breathy appreciative trill. 

 Time shifted and dilated as Nathaniel tried to keep a single thought in his head.

Part 2

[ask-zedaph]

*Zed is hesitant to put down his brothers head, but his eyes follow where Tango is pointing. He realizes it’s probably a first-aid shulker, so he gently so he gently sets down the others head and runs over to the box. He starts sifting around and finds an epiPen labeled “Skulk relief.” He runs back to his brother, setting by his side*

This is gona hurt Tangs, sorry!

*He uses a sword to rip a hole in Tango’s plants, right at the thigh. He takes the top off the pin and jams it into the exposed skin*

Tango is just seizing on the ground, shaking and struggling to keep his eyes open. The fire in his hair and tail go out with a silent flare as Tango chokes on the skulk that had begun multiplying and creeping up his throat. His skin had gone paler, and the tips of his ears began to take on almost a bluish hue.

After almost 30 seconds of choking and shivering, Tango finally loses consciousness, and he continues to shake softly, the skulk spilling from his open mouth from behind his mask.

- @ask-tangotek

*Zed stares, paralyzed with conflicting emotions. His brother is clearly having a seizure and he needs to hold his head so he doesn’t give himself any brain damage. But he’s also infected… Oh coders, can he breathe with that on?!? Zeds concern eventually wins and he runs to his brother, holding his head and tries to remove the skulky mask*

I’m so sorry Tangs! I’m here! Just try and breathe! Ok? Listen to my voice! Your going to be ok! You have to be, please I can’t lose another…