#dislocated joints
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Dislocated joints are actually very fun whump concepts. Think about it:
First you have the initial injury. Be it a dislocated shoulder, hip, knee, all potential locations are dehibilitating, losing the use of that arm or being unable to walk, etc.
Also that every time the whumpee tries to move the dislocated limb they risk making it worse and intensify the pain.
Then... then you have treatment. Forcing a dislocated joint back into place is NOT FUN. Not for the whumpee, not for the caretaker. And if someone inexperienced tries and messes it up... oh boy oh boy we making it worse!
And of course you have all the issues that might come about after the joint is fixed, such as strained muscles, sprained ligaments and tendons, nerve damage, vascular (blood vessel) issues, stiff joints/osteoarthritis... the list goes on.
Anyway thinking about this bc someone I know irl dislocated both their knees on separate occasions, (and it took like four medical professionals to put it back in place). Also I remembered a scene in Mom's Night Out (2014) where Sam dislocates his shoulder and instead of letting a medical professional set it he slammed. His shoulder. Into a wall. And shoved it back in place. In the storming emergency room. In front of the receptionist. I cringe every time.
#whump#whump writing#whumplr#whump community#whumpblr#whump ideas#whump tropes#whump prompt#dislocation#dislocated shoulder#dislocated joints#dislocated knee#injury#injury whump#whump recommendation#whump movie#whump rec#whump scenario#whump concept#whump scene
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I think I misunderstood the song because my leg bone is NOT connected to my hip bone.
#hypermobile eds#hypermobile ehlers danlos#hypermobility#disabled#hypermobile spectrum disorder#chronic illness shitposting#funny#subluxation#dislocated joints
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why must my hip dislocate when i stand up to get cheetos
#chronic illness#chronicpain#chronic disability#other chronic illness bs#undiagnosed chronic illness#disablity#chronic disease#chronically ill#disabled#fibromyalgia#physical disability#invisible disability#disability#physically disabled#invisible illness#undiagnosed chronic pain#joint pain#chronic pain#chronic fatigue#chronic disorder#cpunk#cripple life#cripple problems#crip punk#cripple punk#dislocated joints#hypermobile joints
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Whump Prompt #1046
Anon asked:
Anything for dislocated joints? Character being nauseous at the sight and the reluctance toward getting it out into place? Maybe resetting it in a not-so-ideal scenario?
“It’s fine, just leave it for now.” The whumpee said the entire mission because they could face a shoot-out, but not having their arm put back into place.
The whumpee is happy to dislocate anything for the sake of escape, but hate having it put back.
Setting it in the field, but having to dislocate it, then reset it back in medical because they didn’t do it right the first time.
Having nerve damage in that area.
The whumpee has dislocated [joint] so many times, that they have lasting weakness/pain in that area.
Your whumpee using a makeshift sling to support the limb.
“Why is your arm hanging like that?” “Not important.”
“You will take a bullet to the leg, witness horrors beyond our imagination and take an iv without flinching... but you refuse to even look at your dislocated knee?” “... it gives me the ick.”
“Hey guys, watch this!” *whumpee easily pops body part out and in again (for whatever the event calls for)* Everyone quietly: “what the fuck.”
#ideas#writing#prompts#whump#dislocations#dislocated joints#squeamish whumpee#nausea#anxiety#lasting injuries
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Febuwhump day 3: "Bite down on this."
Title: Holmes and Watson
Words: 687 (finally, something that's not a drabble)
Summary: Sherlo-- Stephen gets injured on a casemission. WatsWong to the rescue.
~~~
Stephen groaned as he clutched his shoulder. It was supposed to be an easy fight after tracking down a rogue sorcerer through London. Technically, Stephen wasn’t even supposed to be here – it was below his paygrade, according to Master Gremm of the London Sanctum. But Stephen had been stuck doing paperwork of all things for the past week and he wanted to get out.
Well, compared to bleeding out in a random alleyway after underestimating his assailant and paperwork, Stephen probably would have stayed at home. In his defense, however, he didn’t expect that the rogue would pull out an enchanted pistol and shoot him point blank. He was also told that the rogue was barely an Apprentice when they turned on the Order, meaning that they wouldn’t have the knowledge or the skills to enchant anything, let alone a weapon. Which meant that the rogue was working with another sorcerer.
To make matters worse, Stephen was pretty sure his ankle was broken and his shoulder (the same one the rogue had shot because fuck his life) was dislocated. He had taken a hard fall into a dumpster an hour ago and walking/running had been a bitch since. He both looked (probably), smelt, and felt like utter shit.
The rogue, watching from the side, kicked Stephen in the side for good measure, eliciting a groan from him, and vanished. Stephen felt like he should give chase, cast a spell or two, but he hadn’t slept properly in a week and his cracked ribs were still healing from the last fight. So no, he wasn’t giving chase.
Stephen laid there for a second, feeling warm blood pooling around him, cooling in between his fingers. Oh, right. It had been a clean shot, the bullet went straight through his shoulder. From the fact that he wasn’t dead yet, Stephen figured it hadn't hit anything vital. Still. Another reason he wasn’t chasing the rogue, he was hemorrhaging and possibly going into shock.
Stephen watched as his non-injured arm, soaked in blood, flailed about for a bit before falling back to his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stephen knew he had cast an SOS spell of sorts. There was a whooshing sound and Wong was kneeling beside him.
“Stephen…”
“Dislocated shoulder, broken ankle. Clean shot, there’s an exit wound.” Stephen managed to choke out. The pain wasn’t horrible, per say, but it wasn’t a walk in the park, either. “You gotta relocate the shoulder and set my ankle before you can move me.” Stephen breathed out.
Wong nodded. From his personal pocket dimension, Wong pulled out a spare belt. “Here, bite down on this.”
Stephen complied. The belt was rough and didn’t taste very good, but he knew he’d be grateful for it in a few seconds.
Wong gently removed Stephen’s blood-soaked hand and cast a simple spell to staunch the bleeding until they could get back to Kamar-Taj. Finally, Wong grabbed Stephen’s injured arm and, ignoring Stephen’s grunt of pain, pulled it up and rotated it.
Without warning, Wong shoved the joint back into its socket. Stephen’s scream was muffled by the belt he had bitten into. Thank the Vishanti for Wong’s gift of foresight.
Next was the ankle. Wong managed to set the bone without any complications, but it still hurt like a bitch.
When it was over, Stephen ripped the belt out and threw it to the side. “That hurt.” He groaned.
Wong stared at him as if saying, ‘no shit’. Stephen rolled his eyes and forced himself into a seated position. Wong, despite Stephen’s protests, picked him up bridal style and carried him through a portal into Kamar-Taj’s infirmary. Stephen probably wouldn’t be able to live that down, but he was secretly glad he didn’t have to walk.
They caught the rogue just a few days later, working with a Kamar-Taj insider. The insider was punished and the rogue locked up. Stephen couldn’t do anything (not that he would if given the choice, Hippocratic Oath and all) while he was wobbling around on crutches, but he could put his middle finger to good use.
Ao3
#febuwhump 2024#febuwhump day 3#febuwhump#stephen strange#wong#hurt Stephen Strange#bullet wounds#bleeding out#dislocated joints
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F: What’s happened to your arm?
Me: Oh, it’s about to dislocate
F: How, how do you know it’s about to dislocate???
Me: Trust me, you’d know
#me#sat there#on every kind of painkiller in existence#I am#acutely aware#of the pain#chronic illness#chronic pain#spoonie#joint issues#dislocation#dislocated joints#tbf I should probably be more concerned than I am#He probably had the correct reaction
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If you didn't already know I get dislocations, thought I'd mark their frequency and pain level there's a correlation between that for obvious reasons. Saw someone else describe what they felt as rubber bands and yeah, that's accurate and at worst its pinching.
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The Flash 1x6
Barry Allen: Knocked out, dislocated shoulder, knocked out (again), trapped under debris
Iris West: Threats of violence, kidnapping
Joe West: Loved one threatened to make him keep silent
#whump#cw the flash#barry allen#iris west#joe west#threatened#lots of threats in this one#kidnapping whump#pinned down#trapped#dislocated shoulder#dislocated joints#knocked out#like twice
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Blossoms of Love (chapter 8)
cracks and crashes
Pairing: soap/ghost
tags: angst, plane crash(s), panic attack, gore, hurt/comfort, hanahaki
please look at the provided tags above ^^^ if you don't think you can read it but still want to follow drop a reply or send an ask/message and I'll be happy to give a light summary. (fyi these tags will be a common occurrence in this story) please be safe yall.
Ao3 link || Chapter 1 || chapter 7
Ghost groaned awake with the rattling of the cabin, and howling wind just outside the metal walls. He vaguely recognized the tense soldiers clutching at the straps in the seats in front of him, but none of them were from the 141. No Gaz and price, they must’ve been on another assignment- no. no that wasn’t right, they were on a mission that was supposed to be just the 4 of them. So where were they? Where was Soap? He was always accompanied by Soap, Price knew they worked best together. So where was he? Why was he here with these men? Who was shaking him so frantically?
“Johnny?” he got no response.
When he looked over to see who it was, he was met with a plain beige colored mask and frantic hands waving in his face. This was most definitely not soap. It was someone he knew. Someone who scratched his memory in a certain way. Someone who his brain tried to keep him from remembering. Someone. Someone. Someone. Someon- ROACH! Roach was trying to tell him something, but his mind was sluggish, and his hands were moving too fast.
“Roach slow down, I can’t- I can’t understand you.” the hands stopped abruptly.
‘SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THE PLANE!’ Roach signed rushed, but clearly.
“Shit. ok, strap in.” he said, as he stood to get the attention of everyone else on the plane. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the cabin shook violently, nearly knocking him into Roach’s lap, he righted himself quickly even if he knew he’d catch him. Yellow plastic dropped from the ceiling.
“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! We’ve been hit! I repeat! We have been hit by enemy missiles!” came through the intercom above.
“Everybody strap in!” He sat in a seat only a space away from Roach.
There was a metal on metal sound, and immediately the plane rocked to one side. For one eternity-moment the plane rotated nearly 90 degrees. And then they were weightless as they nose-dive spiraled towards the ground. Roach grabbed onto his hand in search of reassurance, and he gave it freely, squeezing back.
Outside the wind found a catch in the metal, and tugged. The metal ripped and rolled, like an aluminum sheet. It pulled away from the plane, exposing the cabin to vicious winds. Winds that tugged, and tore at hoods and loose clothing. Wind that yanked at gun slings and necklaces, that choked, and rubbed skin raw, and drew blood. Wind that dragged metal from metal, snapping bolts and welds. Wind that pulled seat from floor. Wind that took and took and took.
There was an awful groaning, screech that could have had his ears bleeding, had he been able to hear anything other than wind in his ears. The hand in his tightened to an almost painful degree, not that it mattered. The pressure along his arm, in his chest, multiplied exponentially, tenfold; only stopping as the straps holding him to his chair cut into his skin, and still it increased. It took him a moment too long to realize what was happening.
Then it was over, the moment ripped away, removing joint from socket along with it. He felt it, the pop as pressure released. He heard it reverberate through his skull, his arm went numb with debilitating pain, the air punched from his lungs. His hand was empty, his glove stolen away as well. His thumb hung at a wrong angle, the skin and a good chunk of meat had been ripped clean off his thumb and the outside edge of his hand. Blood immediately began pouring off his fingertips, as the wind pulled at the exposed flesh. But it was all mute to what he’d just witnessed
Roach was gone. Stolen away by the wind because it took half the plane, it took him. It. Took. Him. Took him. Took him. Took him. It all happened too fast and too slow. He barely knew what was happening before it happened. He should have done something. How was he just gone? He should have held on. Roach was right there. He should hav-
~~~~~~~~~
“-nning decent, wheels down in 30. Strap in if you haven’t already.” he woke with a start, as Nik spoke over the intercom. The cabin rocked just slightly, as he groaned and his racing heart began to slow, he blew out a tense breath.
“Oh sae ye’ll wake fer Nik, who isnae even ‘ere. But ah’ve been tryin’ fer the past five minutes and you wilnae.” soap exasperated with a smile.
“Sorry Johnny, not everyone wants to be greeted by a scot first thing when they wake up.” he teased, he couldn’t help thinking that he wouldn’t mind waking up to a specific scot every morning. Soap gasped fake offense.
“Ah’ll have ye know that Scotland is the country of the great unicorn, which everybody loves.” it was so… enduring? That it made his throat burn anew, choking off his words before they even came.
“Mhmm” he hummed, feigning skepticism, to cover his lack of ability to speak. He nearly rubbed the sleep from his eyes before remembering his mask, instead he pulled his mask back down and tucked it under the collar of his shirt. He chuckled at Soap’s disappointment, as he pushed himself up to sit properly in his seat. A few minutes later there was a thunk and a scarily unnatural putter of one of the engines, that set off a twinge of something unpleasant in his gut.
“-SHIT! We hit a flock o’ bloody birds! Prepare for a rough landing!” Nik’s voice rang throughout the cabin, as the plane shuddered.
His shoulder pinched with phantom pains, his breathing came out a little rougher, and his hand ached beneath its glove. He glanced over at Soap, he wanted him beside him; where he couldn’t fly away, and suddenly his chest burned and he couldn’t hold the hack that came out. He could feel a pair of eyes burning a hole in his mask, which he didn’t acknowledge. It brought a single red-edged bit of green and a small mangle of red-pink lavender spindles, which he didn’t let escape his mouth. He couldn’t unless he wanted to really play into the vampire act. Instead he ground his teeth together and swallowed it all down in a thick, disgusting amalgamation of blood and plant fungus, Jesus maybe he really was a vampire. His face screwed up, he was an inch away from gagging it all up again, but a deep inhale through his nose beat the urge down.
“Come sit over here, Johnny.” shit. He said that out loud, didn’t he. “There’ll be less knockin’ ‘round over here.” Good save, Ghost. Real smooth.
“Aye, thanks fer tha heads up, L.T.”, Soap smiled at him as he moved. He nodded, already looking towards Price and Gaz, can’t show too much favoritism if his lie was going to have any sort or plausability.
“Cap! Gaz! You’ll save your necks a bit o’ pain over here.” he offered to the two, sticking to the bit. his knees knocked with Soap’s as he settled. Price and Gaz moved the few seats over with an appreciative nod, as the plane began to rattle around them.
The plane’s shaking grew more and more drastic as they continued their descent.. Well controlled crash. His hearing muffled for a moment before his ears popped, and then he was in a different plane with different people. He blinked and he was back, with three men and a well known pilot, clutching onto his chair straps with his leg firmly pressed into his sergeant’s. Soap pushed back with a grounding pressure that kept him in his own mind. He kept his gaze on soap’s face, cataloging the shades of blue in his eyes, the slight crook in his nose, the slight unevenness of his lips, the kink in his one eyebrow that the other didn’t have, the spider-webbing scar on his chin.
There must have been a glimmer of something in his eyes because soap hooked his ankle onto his leg, and pulled just slightly. He didn’t say anything about it, just studied his eyes. His throat burned and his lungs forced him to take over his own breathing, as the plane wobbled unsteadily towards the ground below.
“Brace! Brace! Brace!” the intercom sparked into life with Nik’s warning. Ghost squeezed his eyes shut, as he waited for impact. Soap hugged his leg tighter with his own.
The cabin bounced on the initial impact, and he thought he heard the sound of metal ripping outside. For a single horribly long moment he thought he was back in the air, spiraling out of control, and then he was flung into the straps along his chest. When he opened his eyes, blue seas were looking back, and Price was asking if he was okay; obviously remembering the last time he was in a plane crash. He wasn’t there, these eyes were blue not green, they were all okay.
He didn’t answer Price, not yet, not until interia tried to throw forward. Only then did he tear his gaze away from those blue eyes, to look at price and give him a firm nod. His fingers ached from the pressure that he was holding onto his straps, but he knew that the moment he pried them off they would shake like a leaf. He allowed himself a moment to breathe, before looking over the others.
“Everybody good?” He was first to speak, before even price. The litany of yes’s reassured him. He forced his fingers to loosen, to work the buckles loose, as he untangled his leg from Soap’s so he coils stand up.
“Nik, you still with us?” he clicked his radio on.
“Takes more than that to get rid of me, lieutenant.” The response came after a moment of silence. Everyone let out a tense breath at that.
He offered Soap his hand to help him up, as Gaz did the same for Price, and Nik appeared through the entrance to the cockpit. They all looked to Price now. It was his decision now, as captain, if they should continue on with the mission or not. The man let out a sigh, as the gears turned in his head.
“How far you reckon we are from original drop?”
“Not far. Few clicks maybe, spotted it on our way down, sir.” Nik answered. He nodded.
“And nobody’s hurt?”, he received a chorus of no’s. “Then we salvage what we can and set up camp, like we planned. I’ll let Laswell know we’re gonna need a new exfil once we establish communications.”, the ‘yes sir’s circulated before they all got started on the work ahead of them.
-----------------
@checkerscharlie @halb-nichts @heyitsropi @trekkie-in-space @lavenderstem
#el rambles#Blossoms of Love#hanahaki#plane crash(s)#dislocated joints#panic attack#gore#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#ghostsoap#soapghost#cod mw2#cod#call of duty
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really hes an icon
#saiki k#saiki k fanart#art tag#physically disabled#disabled artist#im just getting progressively more disabled irl so u kno what that means *looks intensely at the disabled anime boy*#if u think about it his powers (which do physically disable him. tbc.) getting progressively more intense while he has to get more and more#aids to deal with them and live a normal life#Is a lot like my relationship with My Legs#if u think about it#also hes wearing wrist and knee braces bc he is hypermobile#this is also canon he can dislocate all of his joints and also do some wild shit w his bones
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*takes muscle relaxers and pain medicine for subluxation*
Me: im not in pain and I can move around a bit. I was being dramatic and should have gone to work! Probably shouldn't have scheduled that doctor's appointment.
*medication wears off*
Me: I'm in so much pain. Do I need to go to the ER? Am I going to get any sleep tonight? I feel like I can't move. Help.
#chronic illness shitposting#hypermobile ehlers danlos#hypermobile eds#probably heds#hypermobility#hypermobile spectrum disorder#sublux#subluxation#dislocated joints#chronic pain#chronic illness#genetic disorders
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i’m going wheelchair/cane shopping tomorrow at a local thrift store, so excited, WISH ME LUCK EVERYONE :3
#heds#chronic illness#chronic pain#chronically ill#hypermobile eds#hypermobile ehlers danlos#probably heds#chronic fatigue#hypermobile joints#hypermobile spectrum disorder#pots syndrome#postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome#potsie#pots#ambulatory mobility aid user#ambulatory wheelchair user#ambulatory cane user#disabled#chronically disabled#chronic subluxation#chronically ill community#chronic dislocations#dynamic disability#physical disability#chronic disability#invisible disability#disability
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How my au starts basically, cue Kusuo missing a week of school to figure out what’s going on and realize things he thought had to do with his powers had nothing to do with them actually
#saiki k#tdlosk#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki upon finding out that dislocating your joints isn’t actually a esper thing: :o
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#hi#i’m alive#me#the struggle is so damn real#alt#alt girl#alternative#split dye#girls with tattoos#tattoos#traditional tattoo#az#phxaz#girls with piercings#tmj pain#one day at a time#vibe check#pale aesthetic#pale grunge#pale girl#grunge aesthetic#grunge#wore makeup for the second time in a month#not bad for a girl with a dislocated jaw joint#🤷🏻♀️#SoundCloud#hot mess express
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WEEPING about this codex entry, which was delivered unto me immediately following a Lucanis and Taash party banter about how Taash thought the Crows were WICKED cool as a kid despite Shathann's best efforts and Lucanis replies, "this explains SO much about you."
#CROWS CAN DISLOCATE ALL THEIR JOINTS TO HIDE IN POTS#I AM YELLING#truly the FUNNIEST codex to receive both by content and method of receiving#i have GOT to bring taash and lucanis around more together#datv spoilers#rosie plays games kinda okay#that dragon sure does age#also the using the cape to fly thing. this makes taash comment about taking rook flying in the lucanis romance SO funny
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Gravitational Pull
Heard @ourfag declared it Whump Him Wednesday.
Stede helps Ed treat a dislocated shoulder during the Co-Captains Era.
--
"Ed?" Stede asked, closing the door to the cabin behind him, "Why are you lying on the desk?"
The desk. Not just Stede's desk anymore. Stede relished the fact. He and Ed were co-captains and co-users of the desk. Ed had been teaching him to plot a course earlier in the week. But now the charts were arranged in much the same pattern as before, paperweights holding down their corners and navigational instuments on top, only... on the rug in the middle of the room. They'd been supplanted on the desk by Ed who lay in his shirt-sleeves on his stomach with one arm hanging down straight over the side in a patch of late afternoon sunlight.
Ed made a non-commital noise, began to shrug, then appeared to change his mind about the movement at the last second. "My shoulder got dislocated on the raid. It'll go back in eventually hanging down like this. A bit of weight might help, though, if you could grab my flask from my jacket pocket."
Oh God. Ed sounded much too casual about this. Stede felt himself start to panic, swore he felt the blood begin to drain from his face, but then he stopped himself. He wasn't the one with the dislocated shoulder. And he had a duty to Ed.
"Of course!" Stede knew he was speaking a bit too loudly and moving a bit too quickly as he made a beeline for Ed's jacket where it lay on the couch. He felt the adrenaline making him awkward and clumsy and winced at his own obvious lack of competence - surely Ed deserved a more practiced nurse.
But Ed said nothing about it and his eyes were soft and fond when Stede skidded to a halt with the flask in front of the desk. There was no amusement in his gaze, no teasing. Ed merely looked grateful and for a moment Stede thought he might drown in the warm feeling that flooded his chest and truly become no use to Ed at all.
Ed made a grabby motion with his good hand. "Give us a sip first, would you?"
Stede unscrewed the cap with clumsy fingers and handed it to Ed who half sat up to take it and haphazardly pour a trickle of rum into his own mouth. "Now take the lanyard and loop it over my other hand. The weight will pull my shoulder back in place faster."
The flask had a waxed loop of braided rope at one end that could be wrapped around ones wrist. "I've lost too many of these things overboard," Ed had told Stede once by way of explanation.
Stede walked around the desk and kneeled by Ed's hanging arm. He tried to be as gentle as possible looping the rope around Ed's wrist and letting go of the flask so that it hung towards the floor. Ed still groaned.
On instinct, Stede ran a gentle hand over Ed's good shoulder. He felt warm and slightly damp with sweat through his shirt. Stede could see sweat beading on the back of his neck under the fall of his hair.
"Thanks, mate," Ed said, voice slightly strained. "You're welcome to stay, obviously. Your cabin. But you don't have to. I'll be alright now."
Our cabin, Stede wanted to correct him, feeling unexpectedly stung. But he stopped himself. "Can I get you a cool cloth?" He asked instead. "You're a bit sweaty. Not that it's... not that it's a problem or... but it looked uncomfortable."
Stede could see the tension bleeding off Ed in the moment after he asked. But then Ed just said "Sure. Thanks, mate."
When Stede came back with the cloth and a bowl of cool water, Ed's eyes were closed, his expression both somehow blank and tight with pain. Stede cleared his throat and the dark eyes blinked open (Ed had remarkably long lashes, Stede realized, and freckles he hadn't noticed before).
"Do you want me to...?" Stede mimed a sponging motion with the cloth.
"Sure."
Stede brought the damp cloth to Ed's forehead and felt him shiver slightly as he traced his hairline, wiping away sweat and grime, then moved to the back of his neck where his hair was sticking to his skin. He moved Ed's hair away from his neck and shoulders so that it fanned out over the desk instead, a cloud of starlight, and felt Ed sigh, relaxing marginally.
When Stede was done, he set the bowl aside and settled on the carpet near Ed's face. Ed opened his eyes and gave him a lopsided smile.
"Thanks. The waiting's the worst bit. Your body wants to tense up but of course that's not going to help so you sort of have to just... lie there."
"Mmm," Stede said and nodded. He wouldn't know but he was certainly ready to take Ed's word for it. He cast about for anything he could do to help. "If it would help take your mind off it, I'm... quite well versed in reading aloud to pirates." Stede felt silly as soon as he suggested it but Ed's smile was immediate.
"I'd love that, mate. It's real hard to hold a book like this."
"Excellent! How about The Little Mermaid?"
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