#medically i think im fine just extreme back pain

[patsvicr]

do you have any of the post drurgery fics people wrote, theres like 1 or 2 that i think were deleted, its okay if not they were dnf but its fine if you dont have them :)

hi anon! i remember 5 fics but they're all still up so im not sure if i can help you :,)

let me take that for you by gatzbright (G | 3.7k | post surgery; hurt/comfort)

“Are you sure he’s fine?” George asks. He doesn’t turn around, unable to tear his eyes away, but he knows Dream’s mom is still standing in the doorway.

“Honey,” she says softly, “he’s comfortable, I promise. And completely knocked out.”

George’s eyes sting and his throat aches. He tugs at the sleeves of his hoodie, pulling them down over his hands and resisting the urge to reach out and touch Dream. “But, um—” George bites his lip, feeling guiltier each time he doubts the knowledge of Dream’s mother—an experienced nurse. He exhales shakily and turns to look at her. “But he’s—he’s frowning. What if he’s in pain? What if the medication isn’t working and—?”

[Or, Dream is recovering from surgery and George won't leave his side.

even when you're far away by unluckysin (T | 6.6k | post surgery; friends to lovers)

“I did talk to him, about it, you know.”

“What? When?” Sapnap snapped his head over to look at him, his eyes scanning George for almost too long before he returned his eyes to the road.

“Years ago, maybe… maybe right before Covid? I don’t know…. I just know I brought it up, and before he really said anything, confessed anything, he told me we should wait for my move to America, and the second I got the VISA, we would talk it out, and figure out a way to make us work.” George sighed, running a hand over his hair and face.

“And he never mentioned it again?”

George rolled his eyes at Sapnap’s eagerness. “Nope, not ever.”

or

George thought he would be okay while Dream recovered from surgery at his parent's house, but somehow, he's been gone for four days and George needs to see him-- like, now.

you kissed stars (around my scars) by uhhh_Zoned (T | 3.7k | post surgery; scars; body worship)

The scar was going to be massive. That was the first thing Dream thought of when he woke up from surgery.

or

dream is extremely self conscious of his scar, so george worships him.

moss and porcelain by pondsofkoi (G | 1.8k | post surgery; scars; body worship)

“Dream?”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

When Dream nods, George looks down at his torso. He looks back up, peering into his eyes.

“Can I look at your scar?”

Care(Take) by Bagelrites (SleepyAmie) (T | 2.8k | relationship discussions; insecurity; post surgery -> it's not the main theme of the fic. it's not even tagged but it's the last scene iirc)

George and Dream talk about love and effort and care, in different ways, at different stages of their relationship.

[enochianribs]

several killing blows dealt today but

[doc-pickles]

emergency contact | anthony beauvillier

summary: you’re sick and all tito wants is for you to take care of yourself

warnings: mentions of being sick, hospital, a few swears

a/n: this idea popped into my head and I knew it was the perfect thing to write tito into!

enjoy!

xoxo nina

Tito always warned you about taking care of yourself. You had a tendency to get lost in your work and skip meals or leave your water bottle at home and go the whole day without even thinking about taking a sip of water. But when you’d come down with a cold, Beau’s insistence that you take care of yourself grew tenfold.

“Did you take DayQuil?”

“Yes.”

“And ate breakfast?”

“Yes.”

“And you-“

“Anthony,” you cut him off as he stared at you from his place at the door. You never used his full name so he knew you were serious. “I’m fine. I will survive going to work for the day while you do tape review. Okay?”

Tito groaned before nodding and pressing a kiss to your hair, “I’m just worried about you baby. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, leaning into Tito slightly before he left for the day. After he shut the door you heaved a sigh before gathering your work things and heading into the office for the day.

It’s only took 45 minutes of being at work before your migraine cropped back up. You pushed it aside as you worked on the document in front of you.

But the pain became worse, to the point where you could barely see your screen. You groaned and shut your laptop, deciding that you needed a snack and a break from your work.

As soon as you stood up your head began to swim, your fingers reaching for the edge of your desk to try and balance yourself. The attempt was futile as your knees buckled and your vision went black.

-

Tito was sitting across from Petey and Brock, the trio spread out across Brock’s living room reviewing film. Just as Elias paused the tape Tito’s phone rang.

“Lemme grab this real quick,” Anthony stood from the couch, Elias throwing a pillow at him.

“Bring back more beer!”

Tito laughed as he answered the call, walking into the kitchen, “Hello?”

“Hi Im calling from Vancouver General Hospital. Is this Anthony Beauvillier?”

“Yeah that’s me. Is uh- is everything okay?”

“I have Y/N Y/L/N in the ER and you’re listed as her emergency contact.”

Tito’s heart dropped as he set the beers in his hands down and went to slip his shoes on. Petey and Brock stared at him but he couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge them as he tried to locate his keys.

“Is she okay? What happened?” Tito tried to keep the panic out of his voice but it was hard when the woman across the line wasn’t telling him anything.

“I can’t release medical information on the phone,” the woman said in a dull monotone. “Would you be able to come down to our emergency department?”

Anthony finally located his keys and made his way toward the front door, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

As he hung up his phone Anthony finally looked to Brock and Petey who both looked concerned, “Y/N is in the ER. I gotta go.”

The boys barely got out a few reassuring words to Tito before he was out the door and driving to the hospital, worry lacing his body as he raced to where you were.

-

“She should be fine, she was extremely dehydrated when she was brought in so we started her on an IV. And I’m assuming the cough and cold have been going on for awhile?”

“About a week.”

“Sounds about right. She’s developed acute bronchitis but it’s very mild so we’ve already started her on a course of NSAID’s to help with the the inflammation. She’ll need plenty of rest the next few days.”

“Okay, thank you so much.”

Although you couldn’t tell who the other person talking was, you quickly determined it was a doctor talking to Tito.

Fuck…

That meant you were in the hospital, right after Tito tried to warn you about taking care of yourself. You heard the door shut and slowly peaked your eyes open, watching at Tito settled into the chair at your side and hung his head. His hands ran through his hair before he took a deep breath, eyes locked on the floor.

“Baby…,” you whispered, Tito’s head popping up at the sound. “Hi. I’m sorry.”

Before you could move a muscle Anthony hopped out of the chair, fingers running across your forehead as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “You scared the shit out of me.”

You sighed at Tito’s words, leaning closer to him, “I’m sorry. I thought I’d be okay at work. I should’ve listened to you.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m just glad you’re okay,” Tito leaned down to meet your eyes. “You are okay, right?”

“Yeah I got a migraine and went to stand up and…,” you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut to try and keep out the panic that clawed at your chest. “And then I woke up here. So I have no idea what happened.”

Anthony sensed your panic as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his hands skating over your back slowly in a comforting manner. Just his touch on your skin had your breathing slowing, body relaxed in his hold.

“The doctor will be back in an hour to make sure you’re okay then I’m taking you home and you’re not leaving bed for the next two days.”

“What if I have to pee?”

“I’ll carry you to the bathroom.”

“And when you have your game tomorrow night?”

Tito fixed you with a look that had you grinning instantly, knowing you were pushing his buttons, “You’re killing me here.”

“I know, but you love me right?”

“Yes baby,” Tito leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I love you so much.”

[intersex-support]

Hey im questioning if im Actually intersex. I’m diagnosed with PCOS and have confirmed hyperandrogenism, but i didn’t seem to have these symptoms my whole life. To me it seems like pre-HRT testosterone (for trans reasons) i just had extremely painful and moderately heavy periods, but never had facial hair and had a relatively average body hair distribution for an estrogen puberty haver, i have a soft, feminine face (especially pre-T) and my voice was pretty high, like no questioning that it was an estrogen puberty voice, and no bottom growth. But then we measured my T levels a couple years after i stopped taking T (long story) (i was like 22 y/o then and was previously on T from ages 18-20) and it came back as hyperandrogenism levels (and also some imaging test showed cysts on my ovaries).

I did have a labial adhesion that was separated when i was a young toddler, but that’s the only potential intersex thing i know of about my body pre-t (and im p sure that happens to perisex babies too)

I asked my doctor about this and they say that no, my pcos and raised T levels was not caused by my previously being on T, but i can’t tell if i should believe that or not?

What if im misdiagnosed and I’ve been calling myself intersex but I’m actually not?

Any insight here?

Hi anon!

From what I know about hyperandrogenism and being on T, your doctor is correct. The half-life for testosterone cypionate (which is what most injection T is) is 8 days. This means that two years after stopping T, there's no way that it could still be in you body causing those same high levels. It is a lot more likely that it is just something else naturally in your body causing hyperandrogenism at that point.

To get diagnosed with PCOS, you have to have at least two of the three required criteria.

irregular periods

Ovarian cysts

hyperandrogenism

It sounds like you've always had at least two of the three signs, and by the time you were 22, had all three.

I'm not a doctor and can't give medical advice, but from what you've shared here, to me, this doesn't sound like you've been misdiagnosed. It sounds like you've consistently met the diagnostic requirements, but that certain things about your body have just changed between puberty and now, which is totally expected.

Also, you're right that labial adhesion is something that happens for both perisex and intersex babies, but can sometimes be associated with certain intersex variations.

Overall, I think that you're totally fine to call yourself intersex, I don't think you've been misinformed and the things your doctor have told you check out to me.

Hope you have a great night, anon!

[bittersweetblasphemy]

very angry and rambly chronic illness vent under the cut. keep scrolling.

you know what. i recently saw a post that was disney princesses with service dogs, and i was shocked when the very first image in the set was of cinderella with a service dog for her fibromyalgia.

and like... i dont think i could say what that made me feel.

i have fibromyalgia. only my sister actually believes it. she's my only blood relative who doesn't think im just doing it or attention. even though i never bring it up unless someone starts getting rough with me (because in my family, people tend to be overly rough with forms of physical affection for some reason). my mother, who worships the ground a certain famous author walks on, only started admitting something might be wrong with me when it caused complications with my labor and i had to have an emergency cesarean without anesthetic.

i have lost jobs because of my inability to do certain tasks. i have been ridiculed by family members. i have been brushed aside by several doctors who would rather put me on medications for illnesses i dont have and have never had a single symptom of. i had a pain management doctor shake me because he didn't believe i was in pain. because i was young and didn't have any obvious injuries, even though by that point i finally had an official diagnosis.

a few years ago my husband and i stumbled across an estate sale where i found a cool deer hoof cane that i ended up purchasing because i thought it was cool looking. lo and behold it actually helped my pain. so i started to use it.

it didn't last long. between my family and regulars at my job (who had seen me walking without a cane before) eyeing it contemptuously, i quickly abandoned it. because clearly i could walk just fine without it. i suppress the need to limp. i have mastered the art of keeping a straight face when bending or reaching. no matter the pain. i was even able to hold still while i could feel myself being cut open behind the thin blue curtain. to them, my pain was invisible. and they would much prefer it remained invisible.

when i was five, i and all of my female classmates dressed up as princesses for halloween and went trick or treating together. i dressed up as cinderella.

and now here she was, depicted with the same chronic illness i now have. with a service dog.

no i know this is extremely ableist of me to say, but keep in mind that i was raised in a family where being sick in any capacity was a moral failing, and accommodations like canes, chairs, and service animals denoted a level of disability.

but a service dog in my mind is a much greater level of accommodation than a simple fucking cane.

can i be blamed that all i feel is bitter? yes, im glad that fibromyalgia and other pain disorders are being taken more seriously. but there is so much anger and resentment in me.

knowing i would be in this pain for the rest of my life, coupled with constant rejection, mocking, and isolation has dragged me into dark places multiple times. but none of those people ever cared about that. it's not even a thought in their heads while they call me back to back to wish me a happy birthday and wonder why im not picking up. i dont have it in me to put up my usual performance for them.

fuck that. and fuck all of them.

i bought myself a cane today. and the next person to give me shit is going to get hit with it.

[coridallasmultipass]

Vent personal medical long post

So the shit week continues. No new painkillers, i took the last expired hydrocodone, so if im still in pain tomorrow im gonna have to cut a morphine in half and see if i can tolerate it (i took a whole 15mg one on sunday when my back pain first went out, and while it helped it was way too much painkiller and i got so nauseous. The hydrocodone is 1/3 of the morphine dose, and i dont know how to cut this tiny fucking morphine pill into 3. I dunno if its even big enough to be cut in half!!)

The specialist did get me a back xray which was normal (as expected), and physical therapy, which is good, except i can only attend if i get an appointment within 2 weeks, because after that i wont have a ride, and the distance to walk there is 2.5 miles steep downhill (fine. Ive done that walk before. It would suck because of the pain.) But coming back home after the appointment would be 2.5 miles steep uphill when im probably extremely sore and can barely walk after physical therapy (has always been the case whenever ive gone to pt) and i dont think i can fucking do 5 miles. I can hardly walk the stairs in my house. (Warned u bout the stairs dogg) The occasional 3 mile round trip that i do to go to the post office when i dont have access to a car is bad enough that it puts me out of commission, especially bc its all uneven terrain no sidewalks.

I tried calling anyway and its voicemail so theyre probably at lunch right now. But it still sucks. Im so fucking tired of this.

I hate having to rely on other people - doctors or family. I hate having to make and attend so many appointments. And im not even fucking doing everything i need to. I saw this pt place has pain management (i didnt think there was any in this area so i gave up on that) so i can try asking for that too, but again, thats more appointments i need to coordinate, and last time i did pain management they basically said "see a psychiatrist for antidepressants or try medical marijuana bc we cant do anything else for you" lmao (i did the mm despite never having tried it before. It helps but its not enough lol). My current psychiatrist has exhausted every medical option for my depression. So its either they give me painkillers or something else idk what, or i just stay home and continue to suffer.

And thats a whole nother thing the rheumatologist today was like "oh why did you stop antidepressants if youre in so much pain??" My duDE I WAS SO MISERABLE AND COULDNT DO ANYTHING AT ALL. FOR FIVE FUCKING YEARS. Once i stopped antidepressants, i was able to start exercising regularly, i started drawing and writing with more enjoyment (had not drawn with regularity since 2019!!), i am more present in life, like... doing antidepressants was the worst fucking 5 years of my life. None of them helped my depression, they only made me worse. I tried every branch of them and not a single one helped. Im still fucking depressed and anxious as shit taking methylphenidate but hard evidence points to it being a great help compared with anything else ive ever taken. God that fucking "treatment resistant depression" diagnosis was the worst fucking thing. Theres like nothing else to try except super niche experimental treatments that insurance wont cover and they dont accept secondary insurance (which is the one that i could probably get to cover a new treatment but it takes a lot of coordination on both parties, like what im doing for my tmj problems and getting aligners). Ughhh. I dont wanna fucking do experimental shit either. Unless someone wants to donate me an ayahuasca vacation or something lmao. (Joke, i dont have a passport and i dont wanna pause all my other meds)

It sucks that none of my medical problems are treatable. I got permanent depression/anxiety/ocd/whatever other things that are undiagnosed despite my requests for testing. Permanent endometriosis (no cure and my body isnt accepting the medical or sugical treatments). Lifelong teeth problems (unknown if this new treatment will help my teeth or jaw yet but like.. arthritis is also lifelong and damage is damage). Arthritis thats lifelong but Mostly managed, at least during warm seasons. Permanent untreatable fibromyalgia (the antidepressants are the only medical treatment for it and never helped with pain, maybe even made it worse, and no one wants to give me painkillers anymore since like 2015. Sucks that old people can get painkillers like candy but because im young and hide my pain really well i get treated like an addict. My mom was like 'your gramma gets painkillers all the time!!' Yeah but im not in my 70s. Theres age bias here.) I got chronic untreated gerd (well, i take otc meds, and my attempts to treat it got canceled bc thats when covid was rampant, and the doc stopped prescribing me stronger meds bc i hadnt seen him in a while, bUT I LITERALLY COULDNT GET IN BC OF COVID. I just dont eat any of my favourite acidic foods anymore. I miss tomatoes. Sometimes i gotta eat them and just triple up on 3 different antacids and deal with the sore throat the next day). Well, was gonna say i got chronic insomnia but thats probably the only thing thats fully treated by 2 meds and sometimes weed. (But like. Im a nightowl. Its just that i have to fit in with society to get up in the morning for appointments. I have that like delayed body clock issue lol. So in a way it kind of is still a chronic issue, but at least im getting a full night of sleep when the body pain isnt extreme.)

But yeah. It sucks to be me. Dunno where im going w this post. Its just so frustrating when youre telling the doctor you're in constant pain and hes like 'i know. See you in a couple months.' Rheumatologists are supposed to treat fibro. But i always get hot potatoed to the next doctor. Like i get it, i am untreatable, but someone please do something! Ugh. Like theres really no options besides painkillers or weed, and i can only use weed in the evenings bc my family doesnt approve (literally said the most vile shit when i mentioned the pain clinic recommended it), plus cant use it if im gonna drive somewhere - in theory, i dont have a license lol but the point is i shouldnt have to take an intoxicant during the day!! Painkillers at the lowest dose do not intoxicate me, and in fact, make me more lucid bc it lifts the fucking fog of pain!! Wish doctors would understand how much they helped me in the past. When i was on the combo of painkillers and the arthritis med im on now, i was literally going for jogs every fucking day. I have proof of it. I probably couldnt do that now bc im a lot heavier and a lot sicker, but the point is i can be more active if im not in pain, and being active helps both the arthritis and fibro! Ughhhh.

Online is like "painkillers have not been shown to help fibro" bull fucking shit. Maybe im an odd one out. But ive been diagnosed since i was 12 and fit the fucking symptoms. They fucking help and ive been off them for so many fucking years now while all my health has deteriorated. Do you know how miserable it is to find out you have fibromyalgia affecting the nerves around your teeth? On top of my tmj problems!! I can barely eat anything since starting the aligners because my mouth is in too much pain!!

The only thing painkillers havent helped was the fucking endometriosis, which ironically, is the only reason i even have painkillers on hand for my back injury.

And god fuck i do not want to think abt the endo. Theres no quality of life when im panicking every day about when the next flare up is gonna happen. Theres no hope there bc theres no treatment that works for me. I already had a hysto but it was probably too late since the endo spread. Idk if im gonna survive the next flare. Especially because i have to stop taking the med that was possibly helping since ive been on it too long. The doctors ive been seeing have just been like "we'll cross that bridge when we get to it" which is just causing more anxiety because the bridge is like. This next month. Whenever theres a flare up, i have to stop ALL my arthritis meds just so i can take advil since thats the only thing that provides me some relief (and thats terrifying bc advil has given me an ulcer before! Because of taking it during a period and i was in too much pain to sit up for 10 minutes after taking it. Fuck endo.) Idk what to do.

Anyway. Thats the sitch. Ill try calling for pt again since this took a while to type. If theyre still closed, well, i guess ill just go fuck myself.

[kindlyre]

AND!!!!

this conversation looks fucking hillarious w/o the readmores 😭😭 i just imagine us like, phatomiming or smth 😭

WE LOVE CYCLICAL ABUSE NARRATIVES!!!!! me when the cycle Gets You Gets You Gets You Gets Y

AROACE!! WE LOVE 2 SEE IT!!! the govt straight up wanta disabled people to just fucking die i swear to god. even if you get benefits theyre a pittance in this economy. i have to steal my groceries bc its either that or i cant afford everything. tho im not 100% out of my wheelchair, but I can walk significantly more and i could downgrade my knee braces from rigid ones to fabric ones! im gonna get a rollator soon to help w mobility so fingers crossed that helps! 🤞🏻 tho i get ur pain, my back pain was the most debilitating part pre-...miracle???

also i do have someone, i am engaged!! mr. i-forgot-he-feels-remorse is my fiancé! hes on tumblr too lmao he just cant think of a url for a dangan blog 😩 hes so sweet my ass did NOT settle not even a little! tho after i move im gonna look into other assistance programs tbh, even if i dont wanna go thru the yearslong hassle of getting disability specifically i can always see if theres other stuff i can qualify for!

i also like to date the soulbonds imma be so fr 😭 one of them just decided i had an ultimate ability and im like. aight 🧍‍♂️

ALSO HMMMM THATS AN INTERESTING TAKE ON JUNKO!!! i def dont think that angle fully *rules out* aspd moreso... her extreme boredom and the trauma she put herself thru caused her to develop it, but then it made the boredom worse and oops now the world is on fire! teehee!

either way the narrative is absolutely that the world completely failed her and had she been nurtured correctly this would not have happened-- tho i do wanna say its possible to care about someone and yet disregard their autonomy and feelings and rights (abusive parents do it all the time!)

tbh i really only trust myself w specifically aspd junko (or aspd kamakura which... idk i havent thought abt other than "maybe?") bc if i saw anyone ELSE do it id think "oh. oh no. theyre saying that bc shes the Evil One" bc i doooont trust ppl atp with all the shit ive seen in fandom

but my personal view on it is that most people with aspd will be normal people with a mental illness, and some of them will be dangerous, abusive people. thats life! i see this tip with writing gay villians, and i thjnk it applies here: its totally fine to write an antagonist with aspd! ...so long as theyre not the *only* person w aspd in the story. if theres just one pwaspd in the story, the "burden of representation" so to say is placed on them, but if there are multiple, that burden is not only shared, but itll be placed on the character thats closest to the protagonist, ESPECIALLY if it just straight up *is* the protagonist

i think both our hcs are valid tho!!! i just sharin my thoughts! and after all, no reason why she cant have both- i do!

THO ON GOD junko getting meds fixing her is so funny 😭😭 get this bitch medicated and hobbified!!! junko being the ultimate analyst as ryoko is so sad tbh bc like, shes extremely smart but because shes pretty, those smarts were disregarded. she ended the world but she was a kid once too and she was failed!!!

@kindlyre

Okay I'm VERY curious as to what mental illness you're writing Rantaro to have because it seems to be one of those stigmatized ones and I'm v curious???

[goldenempyrean]

Empyrean’s Advent: Day 9

Prompt: “You don’t need to apologise for feeling unwell.”

Pairing: Sick Yelena Belova x Reader

Wordcount: 551

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‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿ ‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Your day had been dull, extremely dull some would say. Infact you’d spent most the day attempting to escape the sheer boredom you were experiencing, even going as far to count every individual ceiling tile. Groaning, you look back down the to stack of papers on your desk. Who knew being a hero came with so much paperwork.

Which is why when your phone rang, you scrambled to answer it, your eyes lighting up as you saw the name displayed across the screen, “Yelena! Hi, baby!” You answered with a cheery tone, already feeling your day brightening.

A small hoarse voice crept through the phone, “Y/N.”  

“‘Lena? What's up baby?” You asked, your brows furrowing at the sound of her voice - something was wrong.  

“Can you come round?” She sneezed and you could hear the faint sounds of somebody trying to muffle a painful-sounding cough.  

You bit your lip nervously, “Of course, I can come round, are you okay? You sound abit off.”

“I sound fine.”

“No, Yelena, you really don’t. Are you okay? Your voice sounds so tired, if Im being honest you kinda sound-“ You paused and your shoulders fell knowingly as you came to a sudden realisation, “Oh my god, are you sick?”

“I think I am…” Yelena sniffled pitifully.  

“I’ll be right there.”  

You knocked on her door 30 minutes and as you waited you heard small sounds of shuffling coming from within, shuffling which gradually approached the door. A moment later, the door was slowly pulled open and you saw the figure of Yelena wrapped in the thick main duvet from her bed.

You went to step inside but she stopped you, shaking her head rapidly, you stepped back just as she sneezed down towards the ground.

“Hh’iiitshoo!”

“Oh goodness, bless you! You really are sick arnt you sweetheart? You said in surprise, finally able to get a clear view of her face, she was pale, sweaty, sick and tired, quite frankly she looked terrible.  

“Im sorry, I know you’re meant but to be working but I didn't know who else to call,” She sniffled and let you inside, “I'm really sorry.”  

You laid a comforting hand on her shoulder as she shuffled back to the sofa, giving her warm cheek a small kiss.  

“You dont need to apologise for feeling unwell, Im glad you called me, it means I can take care of you now. Come on, settle back down.” You said as you sat down on her sofa, patting your knee and letting her lie back down with her head in your lap.  

You slowly massaged her scalp in the way you knew she loved, “You been like this all day?”

Yelena suppressed a shudder and nodded, “I just woke up feeling all bleh.”  

“Is ‘bleh’ a medical term?” You smirked.  

“Mhm.” She nodded as you grinned. Atleast she still had her humour left but your grin was soon replaced by a worried frown when she began to cough harshly into her duvet.  

“You need to get some more rest.” You sighed and held your arm over her, helping her settle back down.  

“Thank you for coming.” Yelena yawned, nuzzling into you as you held her protectively

“It's okay sweet girl, you can call me whenever. I’ll always be here for you.”

✧*̥˚ Taglist! *̥˚✧ @somber-sapphic @lyak12 @natashamyl0ve @scrambled-brain-eggs @ceiestiaie @santana1437 @lovethewhumps @likefirenrain

[shelfwar]

Jensen Ackles X Reader ~Its Gonna Be Okay~

⚠⚠Mentions of sucide and depression!!!

Thunder awoke me from my sleepy state, so I got up and checked the time. 9:30 AM. I let out a loud groan as I uncovered myself from the blankets and got up from the bed.

I headed over to my closet and got out a AC/DC shirt along with some under armor shorts. I then grabbed my glasses and not even bothering how my facial features looked and headed on out of my trailer to go to the makeup trailer. While walking over to the trailer a black SUV stopped in front of Jensen's trailer and went into park.

"Thanks for the ride man." "Anytime Jensen." I heard a male voice say to him. "Morning y/n!" I ignored him as I continued to walk until I made it to the makeup trailer. I opened the door and saw Misha sitting in a chair while occasionally sipping on his coffee.

"Good morning y/n!" Nat my makeup artist chirped. "Morning." I sighed. "Hey good morning y/n, how are you?" "Good, just need coffee." I sighed as I sat down.

"Girl, you have extreme dark circles under your eyes." "Yeah, so." "When was the last time you slept?" She said as she put her hand on her hip. "About an hour ago, but hey that's alright." As I let out a sarcastic laugh "You don't look good y/n." "I'm fine really Misha." I said as Nat started to apply the makeup on my face.

Just then the makeup door opened and in came Jensen. "Morning Jensen." Nat and Misha exclaimed. "Morning guys. Hi y/n." "Hi." I sighed. "Are you okay y/n, you look like shit." "Gee thanks Jensen." I yelled, as I stormed out of the trailer with tears threatening to spill.

Jensens POV "She's not okay guys, she just seems unhappy lately." Nat said. "I know I noticed that to." Misha chimed in. "Well, I'm gonna figure it out right now. Because that wasn't usually her mood." "Good idea Jensen!" Misha said before he sipped on some of his coffee

I got up from my seat and headed out to her trailer. When I arrived the rain had stopped, but I heard crying. It was y/n crying. I climbed up the two stairs as i comtitplanted knocking on the door. So going with my heart i did so. "Leave me alone!" She sobbed. "Its just me y/n, please let me in." after a while of silence she opened the door and what i saw made my heart sink.

I found her on the couch silently crying with her hands on her face. It honestly broke me to see her so upset, I've had a crush on her since she started working on the show.

"Y/n, hey what's wrong." "Its nothing Jensen really." "Bullshit y/n." She looked up at me amazed. "I don't like seeing you in this much pain." "Jensen, just stop." "No, im not gonna stop." "Why, Jensen." "Because I care for you God damnit! Your my best friend y/n." "Your just saying that."

"No, im not. I want to help you y/n. Just please let me help you." I said as I knelt down in front of her and I took her hands in mine. She looked down at our hands as I rubbed my thumbs over hers. "Just please let me help you, I don't like seeing you like this way."

She looked up at me and nodded her head as a tear rolled down her face. I caught the tear and rolled it away from her face. I gently kissed her forehead before standing up.

"I'll be right back okay?" "Ok" she said softly. I headed out of her trailer and straight to Jared's trailer, with him knowing how to deal with kind of things. I knocked on it a couple of times before he answered it. "Hey, Jensen. What's up?" "Its y/n she looks like shit, i mean she was just crying when i left." "What do you mean Jensen?" "Look what i mean is that she looks like she hasn't had enough sleep and she constantly looks sad and well tired like i said." "Yeah i noticed that to Jensen. I think she needs medical help as in a therapist." "Got any good suggestions up here?" "Yeah i do, let me make some calls"

---------------0-------------------

The next morning i walked over to her trailer as i softly knocked on it. "Y/n, are you decent?" "Yeah, just hang on." After what seems like forever, she opened the door. "Hey can we go for a little drive, i wanna help you.

Your POV The next thing i knew was i sitting in a car looking at the scenery as Jensen drove us to my appointment with a therapist. Hell I was scared, but having Jensen around rather soothed me.

When we arrived, I felt him set the car and park as he looked over at me. "You okay?" I looked over at his concerned face. "Yeah, just nervous Jensen." "Okay" We both got out of the car and headed into the hospital where a nice lady helped us.

"Hello, how can I help you?" "Appointment for y/f/n." "Ah yes, here have her fill out this paperwork and I'll call you when shes ready." "Okay thank you." Jensen said as he took the clipboard and handed it to me.

I felt him place his hand on my lower back guiding us to some chairs. Once he found a spot we both sat down as I started to fill out the paper work. "Ever been depressed? Yep all the time." I sighed as I checked the box. I could see besides me Jensen looking at me with sympathy. -- Around 15 minutes later a nurse called us back. I felt Jensen squeeze my hand as we followed the nurse to a small room. "I can take that clipboard from ya." I handed her the clipboard as I took a seat. "Okay, im gonna ask you some personal questions is that okay with you y/n?" "Yes."

"Okay, when was the last day of your period?" "Yesterday." "Alright, are you sexually active?" "No." The nurse raised her eyebrow and looked at Jensen.

"Oh. No, we're not dating." "Okay. I'm gonna take your blood pressure." I rolled up my sleeve of my shirt as the nurse put the cuff around my arm. I felt the pressure build as she pumped air into it. "Alright (whatever numbers over whatever number.)" "Is that good?" "Yes, it's perfectly fine y/n."

"Okay." "Dr Miller will be here in a bit." "Thank you." Me and Jensen said. "You okay y/n?" I looked over at him and nodded. I leaned my head onto his shoulder as I took a deep breath in.

I felt my phone start to vibrate so I dug my phone out of my pocket to see missed texts from my sister. "Stop hanging out with Jensen, he's mine you stupid whore." "Just stop, he took me to a therapist." "A therapist, you faker."

I felt a single tear rolled down my face. "Lemme see your phone y/n." "No." "Yes, now give me your phone." I reluctantly gave him my phone as a sad face appeared. "Who is this?" "My sister." "Block her." "Why?" My phone vibrated again. "You better not be at the Texas Con Thursday." " Because here's why. She's controlling your life y/n."

I let out a sad sigh as a knock interrupted us. "Hi, im Dr Miller. Hey y/n what's wrong." By now I was full blown crying. "This is why." Jensen handed the doctor the phone as a soft gasp came from her. "Is this why you've been acting this way?"

I let out a loud sob as I felt Jensen rub my back. "That's a yes, well that's why you came and I'm glad you did because Jensen here was very worried about you." "I know, im sorry if I made you and the rest of the crew so frustrated with me." "Its fine, y/n. Your human." Dr Miller said.

"I know but ever since I started there on set my sister kept on sending me bad texts, one especially the suicide one." "Wait I didn't get that far y/n. Why- Why would someone want to ruin someone else's life." Jensen said.

"Because that's my sister." ----- One month later.... "Don't worry about her baby girl just focus on the crazy shit is gonna happen." Jensen said as I sat in his lap. Since that appointment me and him got closer and closer. Hell the day before we got onto the plane yesterday he asked me to be his girlfriend and of course I said yes. I felt him nuzzle his beard into my neck knowing damn well I don't like it.

[thebibliosphere]

hey Joy! I had a question since you’ve also been in the situation of having to judge when body fuckery is to the point of needing medical intervention, but I dislocated (heds) a vertebrae in my back about a month ago and it’s still giving me problems :/ I don’t know what could be done about that that wouldn’t result in extreme medical bills so I’ve been kind of ignoring it and just being gentle lifting stuff but like once or twice a week it resubluxes and is about an 8 on the pain scale, im nonverbal and crying :/ I think it might be shifting other vertebrae around too as the muscles in my back try to compensate. if you feel comfortable, at what point to you decide to try to get help for a dislocation/subluxation? I’ve always been told that “I don’t need to go to the doctor since I’ll be fine when it’ll goes back in” whenever stuff like this has happened before but since it’s my spine it’s a bit more concerning lol. im kind of worried about how it could be helped since I can’t lift more than like 15 pounds without it shifting back out. thank u so much if you answer and of course if you don’t feel comfortable answering I totally understand

Generally how I decide for this kind of thing is:

How much pain am I in on top of my usual chronic pain? Remember, those pain charts aren't meant for us; for acute injuries like this, our established pain baseline is healthy people’s 0.

The way my doctor helped me understand the actual severity of acute pain + chronic pain was that if I was feeling anything above five on those charts on top of my chronic pain, I was already in the severe/required intervention stage.

Also things that affect how I assess the injury:

Where is the injury?

What is it affecting?

How often is this happening?

If this was anyone else would I be dragging them to the doctor out of concern?

In your case, this is your spine, and what you are describing would have sent a healthy-abled person to the ER in a panic a while ago. And I get it; I do. I’m the queen of dealing with my subluxations at this point because sometimes the trip to the ER/Urgent Care is more draining than the injury itself--not to mention the cost.

But again, this is your spine, and subluxations in that area are high risks due to a possible ruptured disc and the presence of several vital nerves that you don’t want to fuck around with. Please do consider seeing a doctor soon: you might have another injury going on or benefit from something like a back brace to give you extra support while the area heals. Physical rehab might also be needed for your muscles to stop them from pulling the spine out of place again.

Best of luck, and I hope you get relief soon 💖

[lasquadrasfuckhouse]

hello I am back with a request if that’s ok with you q w q ) for la squadra with scenario-hc’s with their s/o taking care of them ( can go nsfw if you’d like but for now sfw thoughts ) as much as I love them taking care of their s/o I love when the roles are switched. Can be injured or other— but the goal is to make them feel safe and loved for as much as possible, like my other ask tender emotional moments are my jam. If find the muse for it 💖 if not that’s completely ok too. Pls & thnk u 🥰

ALWAYS OKAY W/ ME I LOVE SEEING U IN MY ASKBOX!!!! it's tendie hours 😍

taking care of la squadra 😌

risotto ✂️

it isn't easy to get risotto to relax, he's a workaholic. sit on him and give him a Look that you're not moving and neither is he, and he'll be so charmed that he'll relent.

he's also more used to taking care of people than being taken care of, so it's a bit of an adjustment to sit on his ass for a few days until he's recovered from the worst of whatever injury/illness he's got, but he finds himself getting like, quietly kind of emotional about it. he hasn't allowed himself to be cared for in a long time and he expresses that to you, and how much he appreciates and loves you.

he finds he really enjoys the opportunity to relax, cause yeah he's under the weather but at least he can chill for a bit. and he'd very much love to chill with you if you have the time. quiet cuddles or existing comfortably in the same space will have him feeling very cozy, loved, and rested. kiss him on the forehead to remind him that he is soft and precious and he'll want to snuggle you all day with a little smile on his face.

prosciutto 🚬

also not used to being taken care of. he'll be grumpy and try to micromanage the house from his bed at first (and you probably banished him to bed because he wasn't getting any rest on the couch). he relaxes when he wants to!!!! remind him that he needs time to recover and he's only human, and you promise the house won't fall apart without him. not only is he soft for you but he trusts you completely, so he relaxes.

he might be a bit restless, but set him up with a book and he'll be good. you may even take on prosciutto-like mannerisms in his place, like shushing the others if they're being too noisy. if he overhears you insisting on peace and quiet so he can rest, he'll smile to himself.

what really gets him and lets him know he's loved is taking over what he usually does while he rests, like folding his laundry and putting it away in the order he likes. and if you initiate the classic forehead touch with a smile and tell him to chill so he can get better, he'll gladly lay around all day thinking of you.

pesci 🎣

he tries to power through it but no honey you need to rest. give him puppy eyes and say you really want him to relax and get better, and he'll do it for you. he will get SO better for his babe just u see!!!!

he's also kind of glad for the chance to have downtime tho, even tho he's typically eager to help and stuff. he just wishes he didn't feel like ass. cheer him up with lots of cuddles and quiet relaxing things u can do together and he'll feel loads better!!!

he may feel kind of bad at first like oh no he doesn't want to bother u. but reassure him that he is never a bother, u love him and love being with him and that doesn't change when he's under the weather. he will accept that and thank u wholeheartedly for taking care of him

formaggio 🧀

milks it for all its worth. OOOH BABE IM IN SO MUCH PAAAIN PLEASE HOLD MEEE 😩 if he's feeling like shit at least he's gonna get cuddles out of it

would love nothing more than to snuggle up and watch stupid movies with you all day. he may just cling to you if you try to get up and insists that someone else can fetch you both dinner/blankets/etc instead. you're his best medicine!!! his comfort!!!! do not seperate!!!!!

but he is a sucker for a home cooked meal. even if you go for a bit, if you come back with something u made urself, even if it's not the most amazing display of chef skills, he'll be falling all over himself with how much he loves you because you put love and effort into something to make him feel better

illuso ✨

one of the WORST when he gets sick or injured because he just complains and lays on the pity party even more than formaggio. everything sucks!!! woe is illuso!!!! he needs ur healing kisses!!!!!

he definitely goes into the mirror world to rest b/c he needs peace and quiet or he'll get cranky. but he will bring u ofc. not just to be pampered either he's just cozy and happy in ur company

lavishing him in attention aside, what will REALLY tug on his heart is taking initiative to take care of him, like asking first how he's feeling, bringing an extra blanket cause you know he likes to have a pile of them, offering to very gently brush his hair. just like, little genuine attentive things. it may get him blushing

melone 🍈

very practical about it, there's that whole thing of 'people with medical backgrounds are the worst patients for one reason or another' but he doesn't try to take shortcuts with the rest he knows he needs and he's very polite and patient with asking for/instructing on what he needs

he's great at finding ways to entertain himself so no worries in that regard. if he's worried about getting you sick he may actually discourage cuddles for once in his life but otherwise he'd love to snuggle up to his babe all day

he'd honestly just feel really comforted if you told him all about your day and shared cool things with him or the classic 'i saw this and thought of you' he'll be 😍

ghiaccio ❄️

EXTRA grumpy when he's uncomfortable or in pain and unable to work his energy out. he's very active, so his body (or you) making him sit on his ass when he doesn't want to will leave him very prickly even though logically he knows it's for the best.

he'll generally want his space but then have bouts of feeling very cuddly. picture him cocooned in blankets with only the top half of his face visible and his general grumpy glower relaxes as u massage his scalp like calming an angry cat.

he'll be very thankful for everything you do, including kissing his cheeks or leaving him to chill with some water and a book or shushing the others if they're being too rowdy. but he'll be extra super thankful and soft if you bundle him up and go for a walk with him around the block just to stretch his legs and get some fresh air cause you know how much he hates sitting around.

sorbet and gelato 🔪🍦

if one of them is under the weather, the house gets a brief respite from their antics cause you and the other one are there to entertain them and curb their restlessness. if they're both sick/injured, good fucking luck because their boredom will feed off each other and it will be a nightmare.

sorbet likes to chill but he always needs new surroundings. he'll want to stay on the couch to at least observe the house's regular chaos but if you (and maybe gelato) see that he's not getting enough rest you will have to literally drag him into your bedroom because 1) he's not letting go of his entertainment that easily 2) it's fun to watch you struggle. he is devising every way to cause problems on purpose without moving around too much

gelato HATES sitting still so he is slowly going insane and he will let you know it. get him a big stack of movies, let him have free reign of the tv, play cards with him etc if you know what's good for the whole house because otherwise he won't stay in bed or he'll do shit like scream for help just to see you rush in and then grin and be like oh nvm babe im fine :)

you thought they were a handful together regularly? HAH. when they're sick or injured together they enable each other even more than usual. you are the only one capable of placating them, enjoy being squished between your two extremely cuddly boyfriends.

cuddles and kisses and loving attention always make them feel better, a surefire way to get them to actually rest is by snuggling them. but even if you do go for a bit, what brightens them up is hearing about all the new happenings on base or this cute dog you saw or if you bring them new snacks every day or try making something different for dinner. like, not just to placate them, but cause you know they're bored and uncomfortable and you want to cheer them up, that's what gets them. and then they'll pull you down and hold you for the rest of the night.

[wearequeer-andwearehere]

Heya I'm back!

I already have the gender hair and clothes, people regularly don't know what my gender is and often refer to me as masculine, it's even a runing joke at my grandma's place that no one knows what gender I am even in their extremely conservative circle because I'm constantly fucking around with my looks. The constant tweaking of my physical appearance isn't something new and I've been exploring all of my queer identity for at least 3 years.

I think it's like, the body, you know? I can throw over whatever clothes over it, I can refer to myself as masculine, people can confuse me for a dude but the second someone hugs me I am reminded that it's all a social thing that doesn't affect anything "under the surface" which is my problem.

The best I can describe it is putting a bandaid over a broken leg or getting your leg badly broken and after it heals you can walk just fine but the second you try to run you get this horrible pain that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

I don't think this is something I can resolve physically, at least not right now, I'll just have to get better at handling by body dysphoria emotionally.

Also thank you for listening to my bullshit I would die for you.

- 🎭

Shit I’m sorry again anon, that does sound bad 🫂 

And yeah, stay strong mate. You’re not alone and the trans community’s here for you, I’m here for you, you’ve got so many people who’ve got your back. It’ll get better and hopefully you can maybe socially transition one day if not medically.

Ofc ajsjakd Im always here for u!!

[tooweirdforyou]

Yay requests r open!!! (Darling i really hope you don't overwork yourself so take as much time as u need to answer!) So,, can i request hc's for law n corazon (separately) with a really clumsy s/o? Like corazon's level of clumsy, they trip over nothing and absolutely forbidden from the kitchen after a few incidents,,,(cora and his s/o would be a disaster couple lolol also ab law,, ig it would be a lil angsty cuz his s/o n cora r really similar but i know that u can make a good ending out of it! Hehe)

Fem!s/o pls and i hope it's not to bothersome 👉👈

Thanks for blessing us with ur awesome content!!!💞���💕

Law + Corazon With A Clumsy! Fem! S/O

a/n : no troubles at all, this isn’t bothersome. Thank you so much for requesting, im sorry they were closed for so long ;-; but I’m glad to see you came in :)) I hope you like it!! ;D

note : I made these small scenarios instead—

Summary : How Law and Cora would react to their extremely clumsy, female significant others.

-

Trafalgar Law

Wow.

That is all Law can say when he sees you coming in to his office to get a re-wrap on your bandages and some new wraps for fresh cuts you somehow managed to get yourself.

He’d deadpan at the trail of blood your body is leaving as you enter the door, somehow having cut your whole forearm from just reading a book.

“I.. I gave myself a papercut...”

He sweatdrops at your answers, irritation slowly building at your answer when asked what had happened in the first place.

“..you got a papercut... on your forearm.. from reading?..” he repeats slowly, almost as if he’s trying to process and confirm it with both himself and you.

You nod sheepishly, bringing your free hand up to your neck and rub it shyly. “I don’t know how.” You respond before he could question you further.

Exhaling from his nose, you could sense the stress and annoyance it brought him, but you couldn’t see the small hint of pain hidden behind his eyes.

You and your kind personality already reminded him so much of a special someone, but added with your clumsiness, most might have thought you were a practical reincarnation of Corazon.

Law pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts of any passed loved ones he had and clears his throat.

“Alright.. just go sit on the bed and I’ll get you fixed up..” he mutters, just deciding to deal with the situation instead of trying to process the fact how clumsy you were.

Seeing how stressed and distraught he was with you, you frown softly before forcing a small smile onto your lips.

“I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble, Law.. I really don’t mean to..” You trail off quietly, feeling bad for making him so overworked already, having to deal with you and your clumsiness.

Law can sense your tone and softens his expression in the slightest, pursing his lips.

Grabbing his medic kit with his supplies, he made his way over and sat on a chair, getting out what he needed and poured rubbing alcohol onto a wipe before cleaning your arm.

He didn’t mean to make you feel so upset, you just reminded him of someone special and it was bringing bad memories.

“...it’s fine, don’t worry about it..” he mutters, beginning to wrap up your arm with the bandage, after making sure your cut was disinfected.

“I’m not mad.” He says, just to assure you, which works, seeing you smile a bit more.

“Even if you get hurt every second of the day, at least I’ll be here to take care of you.”

Cheeks warming, you smile softly at him and hum. “Thank you. But still.. If I can make it up to you, let me know.” You say, watching him secure the bandage tightly before taping it down.

Law thinks silently before a small smirk dances on his lips. “Anything to make it up to me?” He questions, keeping his head down as he examines your cut further.

You quickly nod, eager and a bright smile forming on your face. “Anything.”

Law’s smirk only widens, him cocking his head to the side, almost amused before he looks up at you, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I’d be more careful with your words, [Name]-ya... but if you really mean that, I might take you up on your offer.”

-

Corazón

“Ouch..”

Tripping over nothing once more, made Cora sweat drop at you as he went over and knelt by your side. “[Name], are you alright?!”

Wincing, you slowly sat up and looked around blankly, before feeling a slow warm liquid running down your face.

Cora widens his eyes and jumped, startled at the sight of your blood while he panics for a brief moment.

“Y-You’re bleeding! Hold on, I’ll get the first aid kit!”

However, unfortunately, as soon as Cora stood up to run, he immediately face-planted onto the ground next to you, and this time, it was your turn to panic.

“Rosi!”

You crawled over quickly and reach to pull him up, but he got up just fine, albeit it was slow.

“I’m fine, [Name]. Let’s go get you fixed up..” He gives a sheepish smile, despite there being scratches and red marks on his face and you smile lightly.

“Alright.”

And so you helped him up and let him head off to get the medkit, but however...

There were a few mishaps.

First off, Cora ended up tripping over his two feet, much like you, and just barely avoided a concussion but did cause quite the ruckus when he fell.

So you, panicking and worrying over the blonde male, you ran over towards him..

Just to bump into a random inconveniently placed chair and tripped, right onto Cora, causing him to grunt out.

All the commotion brought the attention of passing marines outside the room you two were in, and seconds later, Sengoku made an appearance.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Both you and Cora could only bow and lower your heads as Sengoku strictly lectured you both whilst tending to your injuries, constant yelling and scoldings heard from the room.

“NOW BE MORE CAREFUL!”

Cora gave a swift apology to Sengoku while you stood to the side with an awkward smile, quickly closing the door once Cora finished his apology.

Sighing, you went over to the window and leaned against the pane, rubbing your head where Sengoku had tightly bandaged it.

“He’s so angry..”

“He has every reason to be..” Cora points out softly as he walks over by you. “But he cares.”

You simply pout and turn to Cora. “Rosi, can you re-do this? He made it too tight and now it’s giving me a headache..”

Cora blinks before smiling and nodding, reaching over and undid the bandage. Leaning into him, you frown slightly.

“I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble. You’re already clumsy enough and with me around, it’s just double the havoc mess.”

Feeling an imaginary arrow pierce his heart at your words, he only chuckles lightly.

Carefully, he loosened the tightness before securing it back with the tape. Then, leaning close and giving a gentle kiss on your temple, he smiles softly and held your hand.

“It’s okay, [Name]. You make me happy, and at least this way, we can both work to take care of each other.” He says gently, bringing your hand to his lips and kissed lightly.

You smile softly at him, feeling your cheeks warm at his words.

You moved so you could snuggle yourself into his arms, him wrapping them around you and pulled you closer to him.

“I love you, [Name]. And I’ll always be here, being clumsy with you.”

-

a/n ; not my best work either :( I’m sorry it’s short and Cora’s is much shorter too, but I wanted to get one request out quickly after posting my own fic.

Cora’s a little rushed, because I had so many ideas but I kept doing little by little each day and eventually forgot where I was going with it ;-; so it’s all over the place.

I hope you enjoyed this regardless, and if you’d like a re-do, please send me a message!

not edited.

[castiel-barnes]

Saving you.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader.

Summary: Poe saves you after being severely tortured by the first order.

Warnings: Angst. Blood. Medical inaccuracies probably. Leia being a surrogate mother. Wedge being surrogate father. Fluff.

Wordcount: 1.7k

A/N: I know I wrote a poe for just the other day but I needed to try do angst with flyboy.

Tag: @phoenixhalliwell

Poe had always been that level headed, ace pilot that everyone knew him to be. But this was a side no one else had ever seen. Not even General Organa. He was running off of no sleep and caffeine and that was it. Bags had formed under his eyes, his usually somewhat neat curls were all over the place.

You had been captured and tortured by the First Order. After your X-Wing had crashed troopers had dragged you away, and took you on board of Kylo Rens Star destroyer. It had gotten to the point during being tortured that you started to dissociate from the reality that was happening around you.

"What are they doing?" Hux asked a lieutenant that was in your cell with him,

"It seems they are distancing themselves from reality sir, to cope with the pain." The lieutenant responded as they look down at you, and your weakened state as you stared into the distance.

Back on the resistance base, Leia physically forced Poe to go to bed. Making sure that either Rey or Finn were there to make sure he actually slept. He had to be honest, he did feel better physically after getting some well needed rest. After getting some sleep, he woke up and freshend himself up. That was until Finn came running in the room.

"POE! LEIA NEEDS US!!" Finn stated heaving the words out. Poe, BB-8 and Finn running or in BB-8s case rolling at full force down corridors leading towards the control room. There Leia stood over a table of information. Sensing the 2 boys and the droid enter the room, she turned and looked Poe dead in they eye.

"Poe... we found them." She simply stated. A little bit of pressure had lifted off of Poe's shoulders for a moment, knowing that he would be able to get to you. Everything around base started getting busy, Poe, Finn, Rey and BB-8 got the falcon ready and we're on their way to the ship.

You were still in your cell on the floor. The extent of your injuries worse than anyone on base has had for a long while. You were certain that your leg was broken from the crash, only to be made worse by Hux and his men. They hadn't given you anything to eat or drink, so your hydration levels were extremely low. Cuts and bruises had formed all over your body. You were finding it difficult to move anything, and the extent of some of your injuries would probably require some PT and a slow recovery.

Inside the Millenium Falcon, Poe sat there nervously his leg bouncing up and down. Rey walked over to him and kneeled in front of him.

"We're gonna find them Poe." Rey stated quietly,

"I know. It's just.... what state they'll be in." He replied even quieter. She left him to simmer with his thoughts until it was time to board the destroyer. The destroyer came into view after dropping out of hyperspace, and Rey could sense your presence but it was very weak. After spending a few minutes, the three of them along with BB-8 were aboard the ship and Rey used the force on some troopers to find you.

Coming to a stop outside your cell, BB-8 got the door open for the others. Poe was first in, and the sight shattered his heart into a million little pieces.

"Y/N? Honey, it's Poe. We're taking you home." Poe stated quietly. He could see your shallow breathes, but there was no recognition of the fact that he was there and not to mention you were almost cold to the touch. Picking you up as gently as he could, he heard you groan and your eyebrows pinch a little.

"Poe?" Your voice cracked as you felt your body being lifted,

"Yeah baby, I'm here I'm saving you baby. We're going home." Poe responded. The five of you moved through the ship, Finn and BB-8 in front, Poe with you in and out of consciousness in the middle and Rey at the back. It wasn't long until you were all in the hanger, blaster fire all over the place. But you all managed to get away on the Falcon.

Poe laid you gently on the bed, and sat next you holding your hand. Rey and Finn left the two of you alone, knowing that Poe would just want to be with you and not talk. As he sat next to you, he felt your hand squeeze his ever so slightly but no words came out. You were too tired.

"I know baby, we're two minutes away from base." He said quietly to you, his free hand stroking your hair back gently. Surely enough two minutes later, the falcon dropped out of hyperspace right above the current planet the base was on.

Medics rushed onto the falcon, helping transfer you onto a floating medical bed. Poe ran behind them on the way to medical, but soon stopped him when they went to get ready to be treated. Poe started sobbing, as he slid down the wall not realising that Leia had just arrived. She got Poe to stand up and then drew him in for a hug and let him cry. Leia knew that you two were in love, and it made her heart break to know that Poe almost lost you in the way he lost his mother, but also then having to hear you have been tortured by the First Order.

Eventually, Poe and Leia were allowed to see you. You looked better, the miracle of bacta doing its job. And when Poe touched your hand it was far warmer than it had been previously. It took you a long while to wake up, the bacta working as best it could. The medics checked on you frequently, and Poe stayed next to you for almost the entire time.

You opened your eyes, the bright light of medical causing then to shut again. Slowly your eyes adjusted to the light and you were able to see what was going on around you. Looking to the left of you, you saw Poe dozing at an odd angle in the chair next to you.

"Poe..." you croaked barely anything coming out, "Poe." You managed to say a bit louder. He sat up with a start, almost falling off of the chair. His eyes were wide but tired, as he looked at you tears welled in his but a smile was across his face.

"Hi honey, how are you feeling?" Poe asked quietly stroking your hair back,

"Like absolute shit. You look tired." You replied bringing one hand up to his face.

"It's cause I am baby, you gave me a scare." Poe stated leaning into your hand and locking eyes,

"Your gonna need physical therapy for that leg you know." He continued kissing the palm of your hand.

"I'm sorry I scared you flyboy. And I know, I gathered that when I was.... when I was. Yeah I gathered." You stuttered out, everything suddenly coming back to you at once. You looked at Poe, tears now falling down your face.

"K-kriff I'm.... im so sorry Poe. I almost left you and... and I was so scared, all I could think about was you." You continued breathing starting to get more panicky.

"No, no baby. Hey listen Y/N it's fine, there is nothing to be sorry about. Baby just breathe, please just breathe for me." Poe stated instantly taking your hand in his and calming you down. Eventually you started breathing properly again and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment.

"I'm sorry Poe." You whispered,

"It's okay baby, I understand. You've had a bad few weeks. But I'm not going anywhere and neither are you, because you're safe." Poe responded kissing you gently.

***********************************

It had just been over a month now that Poe had rescued you. Medical had cleared you to go to your own quarters, but you had to go back either every day or every other day for physical therapy. Some days were better than others.

If Poe was away though, you'd spin his mother's ring around your finger. Which he had given to you as a sign of unity, not long after you were discharged.

Today though, you had a rest from therapy and you decided you'd go sit outside and watch Black Squadron practice flight maneuvers. Sensing a presence next to you, you turned and saw that it was Wedge. Wedge Antilles was like a father to you, he was one of the first faces you saw when you joined the Resistance, and he was the one that taught you everything that you knew.

Standing up, you smiled and hugged him. He sat down next to you and looked at the X-Wings flying past.

"Hey Wedge." You said smiling at the older gentleman,

"Hey kid, how's the leg?" He asked smiling back at you.

"It has its moments. It gets bad some days and then others it's like I didn't injure it. But therapy is helping, I just wanna get back out there." You replied looking up as Poe soared past,

"Yeah I know the feeling. I didn't tell you about the time I basically had the same accident as you did I?" He stated tracking your eyes to your fiancé.

"No sir." You shook your head, now focusing on Wedge,

"Not long after the fall of the Empire and the destruction of the second Death star, I went out of my way to find if there was any remnants of the Empire left behind. One day, my ship got shot by a Tie and I crashed into one of the few remaining star destroyers. Injured myself of course, spent a little while moving around the ship before being caught and tortured for answers. This was above the planet Akiva, and they took me to the imperial Palace which was a magnificent building. After that I don't really remember much, but that's where I met Snap and his mum. I done therapy for a injury similar to yours." He explained, his eyes looking into the distance as he remembered.

"I didn't know that you met Snap that long ago." You replied,

"Yeah, he had a droid modified from the clone wars called MR BONES. But the thing is, therapy will get better Y/N." He stated smiling a sense of understanding there.

"Thank you Wedge." You smiled back giving him a hug again. The two of you sat there for a while, until you both agreed that getting food from the mess sounded good. You used your cane to help you around, sometimes placing most of your weight on it.

The good thing was that you had someone who understood how you felt, someone who loved you dearly and someone that could bring you or your fiancé comfort anytime.

[lifewithabrokenmind]

So a lot has changed in such a short amount of time since I started this blog, ive disconnected from the world of tumblr and ventured away into the world. I got to spend the Christmas holidays with my son for the first time in his life! So that's something extremely special for me.

But with that being said I nearly didn't make it last year, My mental health deteriorated immensely. I was self medicating with alcohol and trying to cope with a mentally abusive girlfriend who eventually turned physical. One night I had a big day working out on my aunties property and fell asleep on the lounge watching a movie. She innocently woke me up and helped me to bed, cute right?

Well that all of a sudden changed, as I quickly fell back asleep after being physically exhausted and not needing to take my sleeping meds which is unheard of in my life for the past 6 years. She shook me and woke me up. She had forgotten to turn the TV off in the lounge room. I barely woke up and mumbled "no baby, can you do it im exhausted and I fell back asleep instantly". The next thing I know I have this extreme stinging pain in my back. Turns out she cracked it and hit me as hard as she could. (I'm not a big guy, I'm 5'8 and weigh about 65kg she was shorter but considerably heavier than me) and I dont know what came over me but I lost it. I jumped up out of bed and started raging. (I don't get angry easy either, I believe everything can be solved through conversation and no confrontation, because confrontation makes my anxiety play up really bad) I'm yelling the absolute house down, saying things along the lines of "I can't fucking believe you" "what is wrong with you" kinda things but obviously swearing and crying. She chased me around the house stopped me from leaving or entering certain rooms while screaming at me to slap her back and get even, this goes on for 30 minutes or so and after being called a piece of shit every day for the past 5 months and everything else because we lived in a smallish country town where work was scarce, and I was finding it hard to find work. She had a job which she was lucky to obtain outside of her normal profession so it gave her some sort of "im better than you complex". So that was it she was in my face again she turned around dropped her shirt and screamed at me to slap her back and I did. I felt horrible the moment I did it. I fucking hate violence, I cannot stand the thought of someone being hurt by my hands as I have been beaten most of my teenage and adult life. She started crying, saying she can't believe I did it back that im the worst person in the world just going nuts at me and she then lunged at me with her nails going for my throat, she had stilleto (or however it's spelt) type nails you know the ones that come to a sharpish point if asked too? So my first thought was to protect myself I grabbed her hands and somehow managed to spin her around and bring her back against my chest where she swung her head back and head butted me (luckily I have a hard head and jaw) I then pushed her onto our bed as I did not want to cause her anymore physical harm she has then bounced off the bed in some weird motion that almost seemed faked and fell on the floor. She then rang the police on me.

I was mortified, I begged her to stop. But that was it, that is when my fate was sealed. I grabbed my shoes, wallet phone and put on my winter coat as it was late autumn at the time. I left into the night and headed to my "safe spot" a place near a lagoon with lots of ducks and geese, I sat there for an hour I heard the siren and saw the police car go past. I cried most of the time, I felt ashamed, sick, useless, a complete piece of shit of a human. I started thinking of how to end my life that night, and I figured it out. I knew what I was going to do, so I headed to the pub, or bar depending on where you are from in the world. I knew that hanging myself sober was an extremely difficult and painful task as I had tried it before. I finished off about 6 or 7 beers at the pub, full strength of course. I rang my grandmother and asked her to stay at hers over night explained the situation. She agreed, that woman has helped raise me and will always be the woman I hold the highest in my life. So I get there she sees that im a bit intoxicated, we have a talk she asks if im okay, and I breakdown a bit she makes us both a cuppa tea and we have a cigarette together before she gets up and goes to bed. At this point I'm just waiting for her to get comfy and doze off so im on my phone my slight buzz is wearing off so I go for a walk up the road to the local pub and have a few beers there. I think I drank another 6 or 7 and decided to go for a walk to the softball/baseball oval to look at the stars and prepare myself for what I was about to do, I had already put rope aside and a pen paper and a torch to write nan a note and tell her to ring the ambulance and police and send them to an exact spot. She wouldn't wake up until after 9am the next morning. So I'd been on the oval for quite some time and decided it was time to go do what I need to do. As I left and was crossing the road the police came out of nowhere and spotted me. I was wearing my favourite NRL teams jersey at the time, so easily spotted. Some would call that luck, but it wasn't. I was arrested and thats when I lost my freedom for 3 months.

Jail was hard, I saw people stabbed and bashed beyond recognition. Drugs and the mental health issues a massive portion of these indigenous and white men had. It was insane, and remember im not a big guy so that was even harder. My first 3 days there my cell mate and I were chillen in our cell then a guy came in and beat the shit out of him and took all of his belongings blood was everywhere I hadn't seen anything that violent in quite some time and I was physically shaken. A few of the boys noticed and came down to talk to me about it all and told me I was fine. I explained my situation with my diagnosis of autism and bpd. And they respected me for being honest and took me under their wing. So long story short jail became a bit easier and I started to get desensitised to the constant aggression and thieves and drug users and all the bullshit that comes with jail. The whole time my now ex was writing me in jail saying how sorry she was and she wish it was different and she would be there for me when im out and that was lovely until I got out. That's when this all takes a turn.

And I think im going to have to do this in parts. Because there is a lot of details behind this. I dont know if anyone will even read or whatever but let me know if you have and I'll try and keep this a regular thing.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

hiding injury

prompt: hiding injury

whumpee: eddie diaz

fandom: 911

hi here is my fave trope ft. one of my fave characters!!! this kinda got away from me in length lmao but i loved writing it and im not mad ab how it turned out. i hope you enjoy!!!!

Something had felt...off about tonight’s victory. It had been in the way his opponent had looked at him, not the usual disappointment and anger that typically came with losing a fight, but something stronger, more violent. Eddie’d brushed it off. He’d had worse looks thrown at him. 

He’s regretting having brushed it off right about now. If he hadn’t, if he’d just talked to the guy, calmed him down, something, he wouldn’t be here right now, hand pressed to a stab wound in his torso, leaning up against the door of his truck, feeling blood slowly seep through his fingers, warm and wet. 

For a split second, his non-occupied hand reaches for his phone, but he stops himself before he even unlocks it. He can’t call 911. If he calls 911, then the 118 will discover what it is he’s been doing...they’ll realize that he’s dangerous, reckless, stupid, for having gotten himself stabbed, and he doesn’t want them to think that. He can’t lose them, not now. So no 911. He’ll be fine. He used to be a medic. He knows how to treat a stab wound. 

He gets into his truck, left hand still firmly pressed to his torso. He fumbles around with the other until he finds a rag on the floor. Not bothering to think about where it might’ve been, Eddie balls it up and presses it as hard as he can into the wound, gritting his teeth to stop from screaming. 

He drives home as carefully as he can, for the most part keeping a hand pressing the rag to his torso, but occasionally having to let go. His lap and seat are coated in sticky blood by the time he gets home. 

For the first time in his life, he’s grateful that Chris isn’t there. There’s no hiding the blood coating his torso, legs, hands… He doesn’t know how he’d even begin to explain this to his son. 

Eddie gets himself inside and into the bathroom, making a pit stop in the kitchen to grab some alcohol first - this isn’t going to be pleasant.

He stands in front of the mirror, dripping blood onto a towel he’d pulled quickly down from the rack. A first aid kit sits open in front of him. He takes a larger-than-probably-necessary sip from the bottle in his hand, then sets it heavily down onto the counter and gets to work. 

First, he has to clean the wound. He grabs a bottle of saline solution, grits his teeth, and pours it onto his torso, hissing at the stinging feeling. 

He waits for the pain from that to subside before starting on the more painful part of the task - the stitches. He pours some hydrogen peroxide over his supplies to make sure they’re clean - this cannot get infected - and then he takes a deep breath and begins. 

In, out, in, out, in, out...it’s not a terribly long wound, which is good, because every stitch feels like getting stabbed again (which it technically is). He’s crying when he ties the thread off, and his hands are beginning to shake. He’s just glad they waited until he didn’t have a needle poking through his skin.

Eddie carefully sticks a gauze pad over the stitches, then gives himself a once-over in the mirror, hoping he’ll be able to say he looks pretty good for a guy that just stitched himself up. 

But he doesn’t. His face is slightly pale and his eyes are red and there’s blood smeared all over his body like paint on a canvas. He can’t go to sleep like this, although sleep is about the only thing he wants to do at the moment. He’s got to clean himself up.

There’s no way he’s getting in the shower with his freshly-done stitches, so he settles for ruining several washcloths, cleaning his body with water from the sink. He can’t get all of the blood, because he can’t quite bend over without his torso pulling in a way that suggests more stitches will be imminent if he keeps doing it. But most of the blood is removed from his body, anyway, which is good enough for him. He strips out of his bloody shorts and puts them, the washcloths, and the towel from under his feet into the trash. He’ll take it out as soon as he gets redressed, so Chris won’t find them. 

He puts on clean pajama pants, not bothering to run the risk of putting on a shirt, and grabs the trash, taking it outside to the can on the curb, pain thrumming through him with every step. That done, he returns to the bathroom and wipes his blood off of the counter, extremely grateful that none had dripped off of the towel and onto the floor. 

He runs a quick check of the house, making sure there’s no blood on any of the floors (there is, but he scuffs a towel over it with his foot, which is not bloodsoaked enough to warrant the trash, but is instead tossed into the washing machine). He locks the doors, triple-checking to make sure they’re secure, and does the same with the windows. He doesn’t particularly think the guy that stabbed him is going to come after again (and even if he wanted to, it’s not like he knows where Eddie lives), but it never hurts to be cautious. 

When all that is done, Eddie finally lets himself sink very carefully into his bed, placing a couple more towels under him in case his wound should start bleeding in his sleep. He prays it won’t. He doesn’t want to have to stitch his skin up again. 

--

He wakes up in the morning, immediately checking himself for blood, which, fortunately, hasn’t seeped out of the gauze. There's a few spots on the gauze itself, but he needs to change it anyway. 

It looks pretty good, Eddie thinks, eyeing the wound in front of the mirror. Not infected, stitches holding...about as good as he can expect. 

He gets dressed, very painfully, and nearly dislocates his arm trying to get his shirt on without causing any stress on his chest. He makes a halfhearted attempt to make himself look like he didn’t just climb out of bed and head straight to work, but that is what he looks like, he’s sure. 

Buck confirms this for him the second he walks through the station doors. “You look like shit, Eddie,” he says, bumping Eddie’s shoulder with his own. 

Eddie gives him a smile that feels more like a grimace. “Overslept,” he says. Buck nods. “Chris was at that sleepover with...oh, what was her name...Olivia? Bet you expected him to wake you up early for breakfast.”

Eddie nods, surprised that Buck remembers where Chris is. He’d ordinarily smile at the fact, but currently can't bring himself to.

They head up the stairs to the loft, Eddie dragging along behind Buck significantly. Every step pulls on his stitches, and he feels like he can literally feel them starting to pull apart. Which he very well could be feeling, he knows. He just hopes he isn’t. They can’t know about this. 

Of course, for them to not know about this, he has to act completely normal. Which is a task far easier said than done. As soon as he steps foot into the loft, Bobby’s tossing a container of oatmeal at him from the kitchen, with instructions to come over and help him out. Eddie catches the container with a barely concealed wince, and reluctantly goes into the kitchen to help Bobby, leaning up against the counter when he can. 

“You okay?” Bobby asks him, as the team settles down to eat breakfast. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, though it doesn’t sound very convincing, even to his own ears. 

Bobby nods, not pushing the issue. Eddie sees Buck look like he’s about to say something, but Bobby interrupts him by telling everyone what they’ve got on their plates today - cleaning the station. There are general groans from around the table, but Eddie’s never been more excited at the thought of mopping. He’s pretty sure he can do that, but rescuing someone from a burning building might push him a bit too far. 

And if that’s the case, he shouldn’t be here. Not that he should be here anyway, he knows. Ideally, he should be at the hospital. But he can’t be there, and if he’d called in sick today they would have been concerned anyway, and worse, someone might have come over to check on him. So he’s here, gratefully grabbing a mop from the supply closet. 

He turns around, mop in hand, and comes face to face with Buck. 

“Look, I know we’re still...not on the most solid ground,” Buck starts, “but I am sorry, Eddie. I told you why I did what I did, and I understand if it’ll take you some time to process that, but…”

“It’s fine, Buck,” he says, as kindly as he can muster up the energy to do. “Really.” He means it, though he’s pretty sure his words lack the sincerity he feels.

Buck looks at him doubtingly, but after a second he seems to accept that answer, and then, before Eddie can stop him or back away or do anything, Buck’s hugging him tightly around the middle. 

It would be just about the nicest feeling in the world if it didn’t make him want to scream in pain. As it is, he manages to turn the scream into a low groan, muffled into the fabric of Buck’s shirt.

Buck, of course, hears it anyway. He pulls back, arms on Eddie’s shoulders, scrutinizing him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Eddie says, trying to sound dismissive. Before Buck can say anything else, he adds, “we really should get to mopping.”

Buck can’t argue with that, so they begin their chore, though Eddie doubts that Buck is going to drop this. 

Fifteen minutes of painful labor later, Eddie’s taking a break (hiding from the torture of the mop) in the locker room. Even the simple task had been absolute hell on his stab wound, and he can feel wetness beginning to seep through the gauze. He’s extremely grateful that his shirt is dark enough to hide the stain that is surely growing on it. 

Knuckles rap at the glass. Eddie starts and stands up, turning around and coming, again, face-to-face with Buck. Can we talk? he mouths, and Eddie can’t exactly say no, so he nods. 

Buck comes into the locker room looking somewhere between hurt and angry. “What’s up with you?” he asks. 

Eddie turns his face away from Buck’s eyes. “Nothing,” he says, and Buck laughs humorlessly. 

“Right, ‘cause that sounds so believable. Eds, you’ve been acting weird all day, you still look like shit even after Bobby’s breakfast, and I’ve caught you wincing at least five times in the past twenty minutes. What’s up?”

Eddie shakes his head. He can’t do this...he can’t let them know. Nobody can know about this side of him, this anger and this pain and this goddamn stab wound…

Which all of a sudden hurts a lot more. Eddie snaps open eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed and sees Buck’s hand pressing into his torso, not yet touching the wound, but extremely close. 

“Stop,” he whispers, but Buck presses on. 

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong with you,” Buck insists, moving his hand and pressing down directly on top of Eddie’s injury.

He makes a noise like a strangled scream, and Buck pulls his hand away suddenly. “What the hell, Eddie?” he asks, and then he looks at his own hands, which are covered in Eddie’s blood. 

“What...the hell?”

Eddie shakes his head. Buck pushes him down onto a bench, and Eddie goes willingly. Buck pulls his shirt off over his head, jostling his arms, and Eddie doesn’t make a sound. His eyes have gone unfocused and his vision has gone blurry from tears he’s unwilling to let fall, but he can still make out the shape of Buck in front of him, knows what his face looks like without having to see it. Disappointed. Angry. Disgusted. He knows this must be how Buck feels. It’s how he feels.

A hand touches his face, cool and soft, and Buck’s voice sounds much the same when he says Eddie’s name. 

Buck moves his hand back to Eddie’s torso, this time gently touching the skin around the wound, pulling back the gauze carefully. Eddie can’t stop himself from whimpering, which he immediately hates himself for, but Buck doesn’t seem to feel the same way when he apologizes and puts a soothing hand in Eddie’s hair. 

“Eddie. Eddie, can you look at me? Please?”

Eddie focuses his eyes as best as he can and looks at Buck, who is crouched on the floor in front of him. “Eddie, what happened?”

He can’t hide it now...Buck knows, and they’re all going to know, know how weak and angry and in pain he is, and then they are going to hate him for it. 

“Hey, hey, Eddie. It’s okay. I’m not going to be mad at you or anything. I promise. Just please tell me what happened so I know how to help you.”

Buck’s hand is back on his face, brushing away tears that he hadn’t ever wanted Buck to see. He takes in a ragged breath. 

“Got stabbed.”

“Okay,” Buck says. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he says in return. It’s the only thing he can think of to say, and it’s not enough, it’s never enough, he’s never enough…

“You don’t need to be sorry, Eds. I’ve got you. We’ve got you.”

Buck shouts for Hen and Chim, and Eddie hears him explaining to them what’s happened. He tries not to pay attention, tries to ignore their voices. He can’t hear them. Can’t hear what they must think of him.

“Eddie?” 

It’s Chim. He nods in response. 

“We’re gonna take you to the hospital, alright?”

He nods again. He can’t fight them, he knows. He desperately hopes they won’t be too mad at him. “I’m sorry,” he says again. 

“For what?”

It’s Hen this time, and he feels her hand on the back of his neck. He doesn’t reply, and this seems to be fine, because nobody asks him anything else, except for Buck, who asks if he’s ready and doesn’t give him time to answer before they’re all helping him up and onto a gurney, then pushing him into an ambulance. 

Hen’s driving, and Buck and Chim are sitting in the back with him. Chim’s busy being a paramedic, though since Eddie’s already cleaned and stitched the wound there’s not a lot for him to do. He slips a pulse monitor onto Eddie’s finger and asks him how he’s feeling. 

“Fine,” Eddie says, which is the wrong answer, obviously. Chim sighs and asks if he’s sure that he really feels fine, you know, with a stab wound to his torso and all. 

“Fine. It hurts,” Eddie mutters, and Chim says a smug thank you that almost makes Eddie smile. 

Buck grabs his hand from where he’s sitting next to Eddie, holding on tighter than can possibly be necessary, like he’s worried Eddie’s going to just fall away. Eddie wishes he had that kind of power. 

“Will you tell us what happened?” Buck asks. Eddie shakes his head slightly. He can’t talk about it. Or, he can, but he doesn’t want to. Except some part of him does. He doesn’t say anything as he tries to figure that one out. 

“Eddie, listen. I know you’re hurting right now. Because of Shannon, because of Chris, because of me...I know I haven’t been the best friend lately, but I have never stopped caring about you. Whatever happened, you can tell me. I promise I won’t judge you or be mad at you.”

“Same,” Chim adds, putting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. 

They won’t be mad, Eddie tries to tell himself. They won’t be mad. They won’t be mad. 

“I was street fighting and it went bad,” he says, the words coming out of him in a rush. 

“Okay,” Chim says, with professionalism. Buck, on the other hand, says nothing. He’s looking at Eddie with this unreadable expression on his face and he’s not saying anything, and Eddie thinks that this is it. This is something that can’t be looked past. This is the moment that Buck leaves him, for good. 

“Okay,” Buck agrees, and his grip on Eddie’s hand tightens even more. “Thank you for telling us.”

They arrive at the hospital not ten seconds later, and then Buck, Chim, and Hen are walking beside him on the path to the doors, and when they reach the doors, rather than surrendering him to the doctors and turning around, they follow him in.

A few minutes later the four of them are crammed into a room that’s a little too small for all of them. Eddie’s lying on a table and the others are standing around him, giving the nurse a wide berth but anxiously looking over her shoulders. She’d told them there was no need for surgery and that he hadn’t lost enough blood to be in serious danger. She’d give him an anaesthetic, clean and stitch the wound, and then he’d be kept for observation for a couple hours. She had also pulled the other three away and talked to them about something Eddie hadn’t been able to hear. Him, most likely. 

Buck, Chim, and Hen then clear out for the nurse, who smiles kindly at Eddie and asks whether he’s alright with receiving the local anaesthetic. He’d like to say no, that he’s fine, he’ll tough it out, but he is unfortunately now familiar with the feeling of stitches pulling through his skin, and he accepts the anaesthetic readily.

A few minutes later, he’s been stitched up far better than his at-home job, and he’s lying in a hospital bed trying to argue with the nurse about going home. 

“It really is best if you stay, just until this evening, Mr. Diaz,” she’s saying, and he knows full well she’s right, but he hates it anyway. But Buck and Chim and Hen are standing behind her, eyeing him with looks that leave little point in arguing further. 

He resigns himself to staying in the hospital for a little while. Buck, Chim, and Hen head back to the station and promise to come back as soon as they can. Eddie calls his abuela and asks whether she can pick up Chris from his sleepover. He tells her he’s been hurt on the job, nothing major, and he’ll be home that night. She says she’ll bring Chris by in an hour, and tells him he’d better not think he’s getting away with his shoddy explanation. 

He tries to keep himself occupied as he waits for people to arrive, but time in the hospital passes extraordinarily slowly, and he finds himself bored out of his mind and kind of sleepy. He closes his eyes experimentally and finds it easy to drift off. 

--

He wakes up to voices. Chris and Buck, he realizes, talking very excitedly about a new school project involving plants. Eddie smiles and opens his eyes. 

“Dad!” Chris shouts excitedly, standing up so quickly he about topples over in his haste to give Eddie a hug. Buck catches him before he can fall and reminds him to be gentle, and then Chris is hugging him around the neck and saying he’s so glad he’s okay, and did he hear them talking about the new project? And does he think Buck can come over and help him work on it after school on Monday?

Eddie answers Chris’ questions as well as he can, and Chris seems satisfied with the answers, sinking back into his chair and grinning. Buck gives his hair a tousle and looks at Eddie. “You okay?”

Eddie nods. Now that they’re here, truly, the answer is yes. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he looks Buck straight on, hoping he’ll feel Eddie’s sincerity. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell anyone. I thought it would be fine. I just...I didn’t want you to know.”

“Know what?”

Eddie looks at Chris, who is looking between the two of them somewhat confusedly. He shakes his head. Chris doesn’t need to hear this. 

At just that moment, there’s a knock on the door, and Eddie looks up to see Athena, with Harry and May in tow. “Bobby’ll be here as soon as he can,” she says to him. “And then you and I are going to talk.”

He nods. He’d figured this was coming. He’s just glad she hadn’t said they were going to talk right now. 

“Hey Chris?” Buck asks, and Chris turns to him, grinning. 

“Dad’s really okay?” Chris asks, before Buck can finish his sentence. 

Buck nods. “He’s going to be just fine, I promise,” he says, holding up his hand like he’s swearing it. Chris giggles. 

“Okay, Buck. Then...can I go play with Harry?”

Chris looks imploringly at Buck, then at Eddie, and Eddie catches Harry giving the same look to Athena. All three adults nod, and the two boys head out into the hallway, Athena and May following behind them. May closes the door behind her and smiles at the two of them, almost encouragingly? Which Eddie thinks is a bit odd. He’s broken away from the question by Buck slipping right back into their prior conversation.

“You didn’t want me to know what?” 

Eddie takes a breath in, then turns his gaze to his hands, intertwined atop the blanket. He doesn’t think he can look at Buck while he says this. 

“I didn’t want you to know how much it hurt. How angry I am. I didn’t want to tell you because then you would realize that I’m not enough, that I am angry and hurting all the time, and I’m not worth the trouble. I didn’t want you to know that about me. I didn’t...I didn’t want you to leave me.”

Buck doesn’t say anything. Eddie risks a glance up at him and sees that there are tears in Buck’s eyes. He hates himself for putting them there.

“Oh, Eddie,” Buck says, and his voice is as soft as anything. He grabs Eddie’s hand, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of it. “Eddie, there is not a thing you could say to me that would make me leave you. That would make me stop loving you. I’m gonna be right here, no matter what. I’ll be here when you’re hurting, angry, upset...I love all of you, Eddie, not just the parts of you that you show to the world. All of you.”

He’s briefly interrupted by a whoop of joy from the hallway, a mix of Harry and Chris. Eddie looks back up at Buck, who’s smiling despite the tears on his face. 

“And all of Chris. I’m not going to leave either of you, Eds. Even if I get mad at you sometimes. Even if I am mad at you for not telling me that you were hurting.”

Eddie’s crying too, now, and he feels Buck’s hand gently grab his chin, lifting his head so they lock eyes. 

“You are more than enough, Eddie. For Chris, for the 118, for me...we all love you. We’re all right here. You don’t need to keep going through all of this alone.”

Eddie nods, feels a sob escape him, and then Buck’s holding him, incredibly gently but still grounding, running fingers through his hair and telling him, over and over, that he is enough. That he is loved. This just makes Eddie cry more, until finally he pushes Buck away, for once wanting to meet his eyes.

“I love you,” he says, and even after everything Buck’s said to him, he panics for a moment and wonders whether this is too much, and then Buck is moving towards him, slowly, looking at him like he wants confirmation that this is what Eddie wants, and of course this is what he wants, of course it is, and it must show in the look that he gives Buck in return, because the distance between them rapidly closes, and then he is kissing Evan Buckley, and Evan Buckley is kissing him. 

“Eww!” 

The two of them break apart in surprise, and Buck laughs softly, resting their foreheads together. The door to the room opens, and Chris, Harry, Athena, and May walk in. 

“Kissing’s gross,” Harry says, and Chris nods. May whacks her little brother on the head. “What?” Harry protests. “It is.”

Eddie looks at Chris, for a second terrified that his son is going to hate him for this, but then Chris gives the most exasperated sigh that Eddie has ever heard come from a child, and he says, “I guess kissing’s okay.” Harry looks at him with betrayal on his face. “It’s still gross, mostly” he reassures, “but it’s not the worst. ‘Specially since we’re at the hospital. You’re supposed to kiss people better.”

Eddie smiles at his son, and he catches Buck doing the same, looking so incredibly happy and bright that it’s damn near painful to look him straight on.

“Yes!” May says suddenly, and she meets the questioning gazes of everyone in the room, looking up from her phone, where she’d been furiously texting. “Hen and Bobby and Dad owe me $20. I owe Chimney $20, too, though.”

Athena gives her daughter a look. “You bet on this?” she asks. 

Eddie feels himself blush, and sees Buck’s cheeks darken, too. Had this been that obvious?

“Mom,” May starts, but Athena interrupts her. “And you lost to Chimney?”

May nods. 

“And so did Bobby.”

Another nod.

“So we collectively owe Chimney $60. I can’t believe it. I swore I’d beat him. Ooh, he is gonna gloat.”

“Athena!” Buck yelps, mock hurt. “You bet on this?”

“It was a matter of time, Buckaroo.”

Buck smiles at her, and then turns his face back to Eddie. “A matter of time, huh?”

Eddie nods. “Apparently so.”

aghhhh thanks so much for reading this!!! i had literally the best time writing it and i hope you enjoyed!!!