#you only have (old diagnosis) what's wrong with you

[purple-beans]

I can't sleep again

[sidekick-hero]

Sing Me A Love Song

rating: t | cw: off-screen domestic violence | wc: 5.6 k | tags: fluff, modern au, love songs, first love, bartender Steve and Eddie, platonic hellcheer, Jason Carver being an asshole as usual, hurt!Chrissy (off-screen)

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My fill for the @steddielovemonth Day 1. Prompts: 🎵 You and Me - Lifehouse and ❣️"Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet." - Plato

"Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet." - Plato

“You don’t understand,” Eddie groans, raking a hand through his curls. “If I don’t get this done, I might lose my contract.”

Chrissy doesn’t look impressed. She wipes down the counter in front of him, barely sparing him a glance. “I still think you’re being dramatic. You already have, what, ten songs? Isn’t that enough for an album?”

God, he wishes she were right. She should be right. Ten songs isn’t a lot, but it’s enough. Maybe he could throw in a cover, remaster one of his old tracks, stretch it to eleven. A solid number. A prime number, even—Jesus, he really needs to stop talking to Jeff.

But none of that matters. Because the problem isn’t the number.

The problem is the clause in his contract that requires one of those songs to be a love song.

Why did he agree to that? Oh, right. Desperation.

He needed the deal. Needed the money. Because Wayne’s life depends on it. And if Eddie can’t pay for his treatment, his uncle—the one person who’s always been there for him—will die.

So, yeah. It was either this record deal or selling a kidney in Tijuana.

“It’s not enough, Chris. I need one more song. And it’s like—” He exhales sharply, gripping his hair. “It’s like I’ve never written music before. My head’s empty, my hands are clumsier than a toddler’s, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t fail. I just can’t.”

That finally makes Chrissy pause. She sets down the rag, brows drawing together as her bright blue eyes search his face. “Eddie… this doesn’t sound like it’s just about an album.”

The bar is empty. No one’s here to overhear when he finally breaks.

Wayne’s diagnosis. The impossible cost of his treatment. The record label that dropped him like a bad habit the second he was outed—one stupid drunken mistake and suddenly, he was toxic. The desperate, humiliating scramble to find a new label, the rejection after rejection until he finally landed in Chicago, closer to Wayne, signing this contract.

Signing that clause.

Chrissy listens without interrupting, her hands folded over his. When he’s done, she exhales.

“A love song? Why would they insist on a love song?”

Eddie shrugs. “Something about bad boys with a secret soft side pulling in fans.”

She snorts. Loudly.

“Oi!”

“Eddie, sweetie.” Her grin is infuriating. “When I first met you during our shift, I thought you’d be mean and scary. But the moment you tried to slide over the bar and ate shit instead? Yeah. I knew you were just a giant dork.”

It’s impossible to fight off the answering grin tugging at his lips.

“I should be offended, but you’re not wrong. Just don’t tell anyone, okay? I have a reputation to uphold.”

Chrissy hops onto the bar, swinging her legs as she leans in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Then, more gently, “Look, don’t overthink it. Just write about the first guy you fell in love with. First love’s always a hit.”

Yeah. If only it were that simple.

“Great idea. Know any guys willing to fill that spot?”

Chrissy blinks. “Wha—” She stops, eyes narrowing as she really looks at him. “Wait. Are you— Is this your way of telling me you’ve never been in love?”

Eddie gives her finger guns. “Ding, ding, ding! The pretty young lady wins the jackpot.”

She just stares at him. Eddie braces himself, expecting pity, but all he finds in her eyes is warmth. Understanding.

Chrissy exhales. “Well. Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bartending wasn’t exactly the glamorous, fame-laden career Eddie had dreamed of. But it was something he was surprisingly good at—always had been. Even back in high school, when he worked at the local dive bar just to buy himself and his band a weekly gig.

More importantly, though, it paid the bills.

Most of the first half of his record deal advance had gone straight to Wayne’s medical expenses. A small chunk covered recording costs, but food and rent were a whole different story. Maybe, if he actually delivers this album, the rest of the money will be enough to buy himself a place. But that’s a big if.

So, for now, bartending it is. It keeps a roof over his head, food in his fridge, and—maybe the best part—it gave him his first real friend in this city: Chrissy.

She keeps him sane on the bad days, when the anxiety sinks its teeth into him and won’t let go. And when he told her the embarrassing truth about his love life—or complete lack thereof—she had been nothing but kind. She offered tips, boosted his ego with her sheer bewilderment that someone like him had never been in love, and insisted it was only a matter of time.

Eddie isn’t so sure.

Most of his time is spent combing through Wayne’s medical reports or checking in with his nurse. He calls every day. Visits three times a week, taking the long trip back to rural Indiana to be with the only real father figure he’s ever had.

His nights—except Tuesdays and Wednesdays—are spent at the bar. Sure, plenty of the regulars are hot, and a few of them are actually nice, but Eddie isn’t naïve. He doesn’t expect to show up to work one day and suddenly have the man of his dreams stroll right up to him and say—

“Hello? Are you Eddie, by any chance?”

Eddie looks up from where he’s been taking stock of the liquor and locks eyes with the most ridiculously gorgeous pair of hazel eyes he’s ever seen.

It’s like grabbing a live wire. A jolt of electricity races through him, buzzing under his skin, making his heart slam against his ribs and his stomach do an actual, literal flip.

What the fuck is happening?

“I—uhm, yeah, that’s Eddie. Me. I mean—me is Eddie. Goddammit.” He squeezes his eyes shut for half a second, mentally kicking himself. “I’m Eddie. That’s right. How can I help you?”

The guy in front of him looks like he’s this close to laughing, biting down on a full bottom lip, hazel eyes twinkling with amusement. But he holds back, tilting his head slightly before offering a warm, easy smile.

“I’m Steve. Steve Harrington? Chrissy said she’d give you a call—told you I’d be covering for her for the next six weeks.”

She had done no such thing. Eddie would remember if she had.

Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t heard from her all day. Not that they text constantly, but there’s always something—a meme, a random thought, a conversation that drags out over days. It’s Thursday now, and the last time they talked was Tuesday night, when she asked about Wayne.

His stomach twists.

“From the look on your face, she hasn’t done that.”

Eddie exhales. “Uh, no. No, she hasn’t. What happened? Why does she need someone to cover for her?”

Six weeks. That sounds serious. That sounds… bad.

Steve’s expression softens, but his voice is firm. “It’s not my place to say, I’m afraid.”

That just makes Eddie’s anxiety spike. He should appreciate that Steve is protecting Chrissy’s privacy—normally, he would—but right now, it’s just frustrating. Besides, Chrissy has never mentioned a Steve before. And he tells the guy as much.

Steve nods like he expected that. “She’s a friend of my best friend and roommate, Robin. That’s how we met. She asked me to help out, and that’s all I can tell you, man. I’m sorry.”

He does sound sorry. And Eddie does care about Chrissy, which means he needs to talk to her, not interrogate some guy she apparently trusts enough to take her place.

Steve must read something in his face because he adds, “If you want to call her, I can handle things here. Just tell me what to do.”

It sounds more like a question than an offer, like Steve isn’t sure where he stands and doesn’t want to overstep. Eddie has always had a problem with authority, with people telling him what to do. Steve doesn’t know that, but it still rubs him the wrong way for half a second—until he realizes Steve isn’t telling him anything. He’s offering.

Eddie hesitates for a beat, then exhales sharply and nods. "Yeah, okay. Thanks. Just start by restocking the bar—I’ll show you how to place an order for liquor and supplies when I get back."

Right now, he needs to hear Chrissy’s voice. Needs to know she’s okay. Everything else can wait.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turns out that Chrissy’s asshole of a boyfriend—ex-boyfriend now, thank fuck—had grabbed her so hard during a fight that he broke her wrist. The only good thing about it was that it had finally been the last straw for Chrissy. She kicked his sorry ass to the curb.

Eddie had hated Jason from the second he walked into the bar, all possessive grip and territorial bullshit. Throw in the holier-than-thou attitude, the obsession with “purity” and Christian values, and the way he sneered at Eddie the moment Chrissy’s back was turned? Yeah. He saw this coming from a mile away.

They talk for a few minutes, and Eddie promises to stop by her place tomorrow. He’ll bring ice cream, they’ll watch some cheesy rom-com, and he’ll do whatever it takes to cheer her up.

When he walks back into the bar, his face must be as thunderous as he feels because Steve actually winces.

“She told you what happened, huh?”

Eddie nods, grinding his teeth. “Fucking asshole. I wish I’d run him over with my van when I had the chance.”

Steve doesn’t even blink. “Amen to that. Robin’s already plotting his demise. You two should team up. I volunteered to get rid of the body, because Robin’s not exactly… athletic. Can’t dig deep holes, can’t lift heavy stuff. But she’s scary smart—probably knows some undetectable poison or something. What’s your specialty?”

Eddie hates what happened to Chrissy. Hates that she had to go through it. But hearing Steve talk like this, hearing how much her friends care? It makes him feel a little better. And the fact that he’s apparently included in this unhinged murder plot now? Yeah.

Maybe he got lucky, after all.

“I’m creative and ridiculously good at planning—years of being a Dungeon Master. No one thinks of as many scenarios as I do. I’ll cover every possibility. They’ll never catch us.”

They grin at each other, and for the first time since hearing Chrissy’s small, shaken voice, Eddie feels like himself again.

Steve grins. “Perfect. We’ll make a great team.”

And just like that, the weight on Eddie’s chest lifts a little. It’s easy with Steve, like they’ve known each other longer than just—what, an hour? He’s funny, sharp, and clearly good to the people he cares about.

And, well. It doesn’t hurt that he’s stupidly attractive.

They slip into working together without much effort. Eddie shows Steve the ropes while stealing little glances when he thinks the other man isn’t looking—at the way his fingers move deftly around the bottles, the smooth way he leans against the bar when talking to customers, the stretch of his arms when he reaches for a glass on the top shelf.

He’s a natural. Charismatic as hell, too. More than one customer lingers just a little longer when Steve serves them, and Eddie is absolutely not annoyed by that. Nope. Not at all.

“You know,” Steve says at one point, when the rush has died down, “you’re not bad at this.”

Eddie scoffs, tossing a bar rag over his shoulder. “Not bad? Please. I’m great at this.”

Steve hums, eyes twinkling. “If you say so. I guess I’ll have to stick around to see for myself.”

There’s something in his voice, something that makes heat curl in Eddie’s stomach. A challenge. A tease. A promise, maybe.

Eddie leans in, close enough to catch a hint of cologne and something unmistakably Steve. "Yeah?” he murmurs, smirking. “Guess you will.”

The air crackles between them, heavy and charged, until a customer clears their throat and pulls them back to reality.

Eddie straightens, fighting back a grin as he goes to take the order.

He has a feeling working with Steve is going to be very interesting.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turns out he was right—working with Steve is definitely interesting. It’s also confusing and exhilarating. And, honestly? It’s driving him insane.

Steve is everything Eddie never knew he wanted or needed. None of the guys Eddie’s ever hooked up with or tried dating were even close to being like Steve. And maybe that had been his mistake all along.

Because Steve makes him feel things he didn’t even know he could feel. He catches himself daydreaming about kissing the moles on Steve’s neck and face, wondering what it would be like to run his fingers along the smooth line of his jaw. He catches himself thinking about what he could ask Steve next, wanting to learn more and more about him. Eddie wants to make him laugh, wants to tell Steve about his day, about the last book he read, ask him what he thinks of a certain song or movie.

It’s like every little moment with Steve only deepens the curiosity, the pull. And Eddie can’t seem to stop himself from wanting more.

And yet, he can’t bring himself to take it any further than the harmless flirting they’ve been doing. Steve never seems to mind Eddie’s over-the-top flirting—calling him pet names, throwing himself at his feet dramatically, draping himself over Steve and acting like personal space is a suggestion, not a boundary.

One night, after another intense moment between them, the air crackling with something Eddie can’t quite name, he comes home, sits down, and writes it all out. He lets all these feelings he doesn’t even really understand pour onto the page. Every thought, every feeling—the longing and wonder, the joy and insanity of liking someone, wanting someone so much it’s almost physical.

A few weeks ago, he would’ve been bouncing off the walls with excitement at having written his first love song.

Now? He has a hard time bringing himself to care, because all he wants is to tell Steve these things. To have the courage to look into those beloved hazel eyes and make Steve understand the depth of what Eddie feels for him.

Now, all Eddie wants is to take Steve home and never let him go.

That’s why he’s struggling to feel as joyous as he should when Chrissy tells him she’ll be back next week.

Eddie’s wiping down the bar when Steve steps up, leaning against it with a casual ease that makes Eddie’s heart skip, like it always does when Steve’s close.

“Hey,” Steve says, a little more softly than usual. “You heard from Chrissy?”

Eddie pauses, glancing up, not quite meeting Steve’s eyes. “Yeah. She’s coming back next week. Gonna be back at the bar on Monday.”

“Ah, that’s great,” Steve says with a smile, but there’s something in his tone that doesn’t quite match the words.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “You don’t seem so excited.”

Steve shrugs, the movement casual but his gaze fixed on Eddie now. “I mean, I am. I’m glad she’s doing better. Just… I don’t know. Things’ve been good here, you know?”

Eddie’s pulse quickens, his mind racing. He knows exactly what Steve means. Things have been good. They’ve been intense—charged, even. And now, with Chrissy coming back, it feels like a door he’s been carefully edging toward might slam shut.

“Yeah, I get that,” Eddie says, trying to sound casual even though his throat feels tight. “It’s been… nice, having you here.”

Steve’s lips twitch into a smile, a little teasing. “Nice, huh? Just nice?”

Eddie meets his gaze then, the air between them thick with unspoken words. “Yeah. More than nice. I—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

Steve doesn’t let it slide. His eyes narrow slightly, and he leans in, his voice lowering. “No, come on. What were you gonna say?”

Eddie hesitates, heart pounding. He wants to say so much, but the weight of it is too much. Instead, he grabs a glass, fills it with water, and hands it to Steve, forcing a smile. “Doesn’t matter.”

But Steve isn’t buying it. He takes the glass, but his eyes stay locked on Eddie. “It does matter. You matter, Eddie.”

There’s a long silence, and Eddie feels like he’s about to drown in it. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

“Hey,” Steve says, his voice softer now, “don’t worry about it. I get it. Chrissy’s your friend.”

Eddie nods, but it doesn’t feel like he’s actually hearing him. He’s still stuck on the fact that the connection between them has shifted somehow. And now, Chrissy coming back just feels like the beginning of the end of whatever this is.

But all Steve does is give him that reassuring smile, and for a moment, it feels like maybe he’s not as worried about it as Eddie is. Maybe.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Eddie murmurs, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

Steve’s expression softens. “Me too, man.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

On Sunday, Eddie gets a visit from Chrissy. He’s just in his pajama bottoms, pouring himself a cup of coffee when the doorbell rings.

“Chris! What are you doing here?”

She steps into his flat, pressing a fleeting kiss to his cheek as she brushes past him. “I’m happy to see you, too.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Just surprised to have you drop by like that. I’m always happy to see you, you know that.”

He follows her into the flat, where she’s already made herself at home at the kitchen island, pouring herself a cup as well.

“Yes, I know, I was just teasing you. I wanted to drop by to see how you’re doing.”

“You’ll see me tomorrow at work.” He tries to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but he probably doesn’t succeed. He really needs to work on his poker face.

Chrissy eyes him like she can see right through him, like maybe she’s already read his mind. Eddie knows better than to think she hasn’t. She’s sharp like that.

“Yeah, and something tells me you’re not doing so great because of that.”

That’s his girl—blunt and straight to the point. Eddie considers brushing it off, pretending he has no idea what she’s talking about, but he knows better. She deserves his honesty.

“No. I’m not really. Not because I don’t want you back,” he adds quickly, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “I missed you, Chris. Like crazy. You’re one of my best friends, and I’m so happy to have you back.”

She nods, her small hand curling over his in a comforting gesture. “But you don’t want Steve to go.”

“How—”

Her smile is soft and amused, like they’re in on some private joke together. “You’ve been talking about nothing but him for the past few weeks, Eds. I’ve never seen you take to anyone so fast. It took me months to get you to talk to me about anything but work. And you and Steve are sending each other memes and texts all day.”

Then, with a mischievous gleam in her eye, she adds, “Besides, you should see your face when you talk about him. I’m just waiting for you to start twirling your hair or kicking your feet.”

“Shut up! I’m not doing that.”

“Might as well be, with the way you’re acting. You like him.” She singsongs.

Burying his face in his hands, Eddie groans dramatically. “God, I hate you.”

Chrissy pulls his hands away, her fingers warm as she gently makes him look at her. Her face is a picture of seriousness, though a hint of a smile still lingers at the corner of her lips. “No, you don’t. You just know I’m right. I told you it was only a matter of time until you fell for someone. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Eddie glares at her, but there’s no real heat behind it. He stays quiet, his eyes darting around the room like he’s searching for an escape. When he doesn’t say anything, she raises her brows, giving him that ‘I knew it’ look. “See? Now you can write your love song!”

He mutters something under his breath, too low for her to hear.

“What was that?”

“I said... I already did,” Eddie says, a little sheepish, but trying to keep his cool. “It’s actually pretty good, I think. One of my best.”

Chrissy’s eyes light up, her voice bubbling with excitement. “Eddie, that’s awesome!”

Eddie shrugs, though his expression is far from pleased. “Yeah, but it’s not enough. He’s still leaving after tonight, and then... I’ll never see him again.”

Chrissy waves a hand like she’s brushing off a bad thought. “That’s such a load of crap, and you know it. We can totally visit him and Robin. I’ll invite them over! You’ll still get to hang out.”

Eddie sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe, but it’s not the same. I won’t see him every day, won’t have an excuse to talk to him, flirt with him. We’ll just be... acquaintances.”

Chrissy taps her chin, looking like she’s piecing things together in that genius way of hers. “Okay, but... have you ever thought about just telling him?”

“Stop saying that like it’s easy,” Eddie demands. Okay, whines. He’s aware he’s acting like a petulant child instead of a grown-ass 26-year-old, but honestly? He doesn’t care. This shit sucks. No wonder he never bothered with it before—falling for someone is exhausting.

“It could be,” Chrissy says with that maddening calm of hers, like she’s solving a simple math problem instead of his entire emotional crisis.

Eddie glares. “Oh yeah? How do you figure?”

“Well,” she says, taking a casual sip of her coffee like she’s not about to drop a bombshell, “it’s not like Steve isn’t talking about you just as much.”

“He is?” Eddie all but shrieks, and Chrissy winces at the sheer volume. He claps a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, sorry. He is?” he repeats, softer this time, though he still sounds way too giddy to play it cool.

Chrissy just laughs at him. “Yes, Edward. Steve talks about you, too. Or so I heard from Robin. And the few times we talked, he asked me questions about you.”

Eddie’s heart picks up speed, slamming against his ribs like it’s trying to break free. That’s something, right?

“What did he ask?” he presses, leaning forward like Chrissy is holding onto state secrets rather than just casual conversation.

She taps her chin, pretending to think it over. “Oh, just normal stuff. How long I’ve known you, what you did before coming to Chicago… if you’re single.”

Eddie freezes. The butterflies in his stomach go feral.

But then—like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over his head—another thought creeps in.

“Then why didn’t he make a move?” he asks, deflating just as quickly as he puffed up.

Chrissy just raises an unimpressed brow. “Why didn’t you?”

Fair.

“Because I’ve never dated anyone before,” Eddie admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Never felt like this for anyone before. I have no idea what I’m doing. I highly doubt Steve has been single all his life.”

Chrissy opens her mouth, then hesitates, like she’s conceding his point. Normally, Eddie loves to be right, but this time? He wants to be wrong. Wants Steve’s questions to mean something.

“I see your point, okay,” she finally says, then adds, “but maybe there’s something in Steve’s past that makes him cautious too. Ever think of that?”

Eddie frowns. “Like what?”

Chrissy’s face softens. “It’s not my place to say,” she says gently. “Let’s just say… love can hurt. And if you’ve been burned before, it makes you scared to touch the stove again.”

Eddie’s chest tightens, both at the thought of Steve getting hurt and at the way Chrissy’s voice dips—because she’s speaking from experience, too. Without thinking, he reaches for her, pulling her into a tight hug. Her head tucks neatly under his chin, her small frame warm against him.

“I’m sorry, Chris,” he murmurs. “You deserved better.”

She nods against his chest. “Yeah. And I’ll get over it. Just need some time. Just like Steve, probably. Maybe he’s not sure if he’s ready to let someone in again, you know?”

Eddie does know. Letting someone in after you've experienced the pain of losing someone, of mourning the presence someone once had in your life, it's scary as hell.

But maybe… just maybe… it’s worth the risk.

“I think I have an idea,” he says, and really hopes he’ll be brave enough to follow through.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their last shift together goes by way too fast.

It’s weird. Like Eddie’s waiting for something to happen, anything. He doesn’t know what exactly—except that’s a lie. He does know.

He wants Steve to kiss him. Wants Steve to grab him, lift him onto the bar top, step between his legs, and cradle his face in those steady hands before finally—finally—giving him a first kiss that means something.

More than that, he wants Steve to tell him. That Eddie’s not crazy, not alone in this. That he feels it too—this maddening, electric pull that makes Eddie’s knees weak, makes his stomach flip, makes his heart hammer against his ribs like it’s trying to escape.

Steve does none of those things.

Instead, they pour drinks, chat with the regulars, do their jobs. And when the night winds down—when the last stool is flipped onto the tables, the floors are swept, and Eddie flicks off the lights—they step outside and fall into each other’s arms without a single word.

They hold on for far longer than what anyone would call normal.

Fuck normal, Eddie thinks, tightening his grip around Steve’s solid frame. Normal never made me feel like this.

Steve exhales against his neck, his voice quiet but soaked in something Eddie can’t name. “I’ll miss this,” he murmurs. “I’ll miss you.”

Say it, Eddie begs in his head. Please. Just say you feel this too.

But Steve doesn’t.

Eddie wishes that he were brave, wishes that he could bridge the metaphorical gap between the two of them by simply taking a leap of faith.

But he doesn’t.

So they pull away, exchanging promises to stay in touch, and Eddie walks away feeling like he just lost something he never even had.

Two weeks later, Eddie finds himself back at The Upside Down, waiting for Chrissy. But this time, he’s not behind the bar, taking stock of liquor bottles or wiping down counters.

He’s behind the curtain of the small stage they built at the far end of the bar, fidgeting with the strap of his guitar, his heart hammering and his hands shaking. The stage usually belongs to local bands on the weekends, filling the space with music that draws in bigger crowds.

But today is Monday. And behind the bar—his bar—is Steve, restocking the cabinets, just like he did the first time he stepped in to cover for Chrissy. Full circle, Eddie thinks, watching from the shadows.

Except this time, Steve is covering for Eddie.

Steve thinks Eddie had to leave for an emergency, an excuse Chrissy fed him about needing to see his uncle. Eddie isn’t exactly proud of using Wayne’s health as a pretext to lure Steve here under false pretenses. But what’s the saying?

All’s fair in love and war.

And if Eddie is going to do something about this mess of feelings, he’s going to do it in the way he knows best.

Through music.

“We’re ready,” Chrissy whispers, squeezing his arm. “Bar’s surprisingly full for a Monday, so don’t be nervous. The only thing that matters is getting your man.”

Eddie salutes her with a grin that’s only half forced. “Aye, aye, captain.”

Then, with a deep breath, he settles onto the small stool at center stage, guitar resting on his knee. The curtain pulls back, and suddenly, he’s bathed in the warm glow of the stage lights, staring out at the sea of faces in front of him.

But there’s only one face that matters.

His eyes find Steve instantly, standing behind the bar, frozen mid-motion with a bottle in his hand, wide-eyed and staring like he’s just had the wind knocked out of him.

Eddie taps the mic, wincing at the light thump it makes through the speakers. “Is this thing on? Yeah, sounds like it.” He clears his throat, nerves tightening in his chest. Here goes nothing.

“Hi, everybody. Some of you might know me as the guy who pours your drinks and listens to your problems, but tonight, I’m here as a humble musician playing a song.” His fingers flex around the neck of his guitar as he exhales. “A special song for a special someone.”

A ripple of murmurs runs through the crowd, but Eddie barely hears it. His pulse is pounding too loud in his ears.

“I ask you to be kind because—well, this is a love song. And I’ve never done that before.” He huffs a breathless laugh. “Written a love song, I mean. Or been in love.” His fingers tighten on the frets, his throat thick with something unnamed. “But then I met someone who changed all of that. Someone who makes me laugh even when I don’t want to. Who makes me want to rip my hair out with how much I want to touch and hold them.”

A beat of silence. His heart feels like it’s about to break his ribs.

“Someone who is kind and brave and quick-witted. A secret nerd.” A small smile tugs at his lips. “And the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

The room feels impossibly still. Eddie can feel Steve’s eyes on him now, burning, waiting. But he doesn’t dare look. If he meets those hazel eyes, he’s not sure he’ll make it through this without forgetting how to breathe.

He takes another shaky inhale, tilts his chin toward the mic. “So, yeah. Please be kind, because this is all new to me.”

And then—he plays.

All of the things that I want to say just aren't coming out right I'm tripping on words You've got my head spinning I don't know where to go from here 'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do Nothing to prove And it's you and me and all other people And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you

The last note fades into the air, leaving the bar in a thick, charged silence. For a split second, Eddie’s convinced he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life. His fingers hover over the strings, his breath caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat.

And then—

The bar erupts into applause.

Someone calls his name, and he thinks he hears Chrissy cheer Bravo but Eddie barely registers it because his brain is still trying to catch up.

But then he sees him.

Steve.

Still standing behind the bar, both hands braced against the counter like he needs the support. His mouth is slightly open, his eyes wide and shining in the dim lighting. And then Steve runs a hand through his hair, shakes his head in what looks like pure disbelief, and laughs.

Not a mean laugh. Not a nervous one. A stunned, overwhelmed, delighted kind of laugh.

Eddie barely has time to put his guitar down before Steve moves.

He pushes past the bar, past the regulars clapping him on the back, eyes locked onto Eddie like there’s no one else in the damn room. Eddie stands frozen on stage, unsure what’s about to happen but aching for whatever it is.

And then Steve’s there, grabbing Eddie’s face in his hands and kissing him.

It’s not a shy, hesitant kiss. It’s everything. Warm, firm, desperate. Steve’s lips press against Eddie’s like he’s making up for lost time, and Eddie melts into it without hesitation, gripping Steve’s waist like he’s afraid he’ll disappear.

The bar goes wild.

Someone catcalls. Eddie hears Chrissy’s delighted I knew it! but all of it is background noise to the way Steve feels against him, the way his fingers tighten in Eddie’s hair, the way he lingers even as they finally—reluctantly—pull apart just enough to breathe.

Steve's forehead presses against Eddie's, his voice barely a whisper. "Please tell me that song was for me. Otherwise this is going to get awkward very quickly."

Eddie's laugh is joyous, relief palpable in every tone. "Of course. Who else would it be about?"

"I don't know, I've seen the looks you give Herbert," Steve grins, his eyebrows wagging. God, Eddie loves him.

Eddie kisses him again. "No, unfortunately my heart is set on you. Does your reaction to my song mean you feel the same?"

“You idiot,” Steve murmurs, but he’s smiling. Grinning. “You really think you’re the only one who feels this?”

Eddie exhales a laugh, overwhelmed and dizzy and so stupidly happy he can’t stand it. “I dunno,” he rasps. “You never said anything.”

Steve huffs, nudging their noses together. “Neither did you.”

Eddie grins. “Yeah, well. I wrote a song instead.”

Steve shakes his head, laughing again, and kisses him once more—just because he can.

[gyllenhaalstories]

FREAK LIKE ME — ELWOOD DALTON x PLUS SIZE! READER ❤️‍🩹

summary: what doesn't kill you makes you freakier, amirite?

warnings: blood & injury, smut (mild blood kink, praise kink, blowjob, nipple play, titjob). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2120

gifs credits: @/tay-swifts (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: me? writing for dalton again? groundbreaking. ❣️🩹 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"Hey, Doc," Dalton smiled. "Do I need surgery?"

You walked away from the sink, holding your clean hands in the air as to not soil them. "Sorry." Your chin pointed at the counter. Dalton climbed on it, next to all of the medical supplies, while you sat on a chair in front of him. "You're a lost cause."

"That's a rough diagnosis." He shrugged lightly, his smile widened when you took a closer look at the old bandage.

You sighed and only then his smile faded a bit.

"I tried." He answered before you could reprimand him.

You had told him to be careful and avoid abrupt movements, you could not have asked something more impossible than that.

"They started it. I had to end the fight and... Yeah." Another shrug, but this time he winced when you detached the bandage off his skin. The feeling of the glue pulling at his skin and the wound exposed to the air reminded him it was not all fun and games. He forgot about that reminder pretty quickly.

You disposed of the old gauze and started to clean the stabbing wound. You liked to do most of those tasks in silence, focused on taking care of your man.

The silence left more space for Dalton's noises to be heard. The winces, whimpers and gasps echoed loudly in your mind while you patched his wound. There were moans too. Lots of them.

When you first helped him out with his situation, having failed to convince him that nurses were better suited for the task, you figured the moans were just how he expressed his pain.

Maybe it truly was his way to express it. You thought that when you got hurt for as long as he did, the reactions were numbed. Instead of a scream, that was what he would do. You were not wrong, only you were not exactly right.

Because Dalton loved the pain, in a masochist type of way that you still had trouble to understand. He said multiple times before how he liked "to pay for it".

You had never questioned him further. You had never explored this further. Maybe, just maybe, you could entertain this part of him...

"Hey, you good?" He noticed how you stalled, there was concern and worry laced in his voice.

You cleared your throat, realizing that you were lost in your thoughts. "Yeah. It's just..." You scrambled for an answer and pulled open the wrapping of the new bandage. "It looks gnarly."

"You should see the other guy." Dalton scoffed, but suddenly he flinched with his lips curled up and face scrunching. He waited for a second or two, then he breathed out. "Oooh, that hurts."

You watched his reaction closely while you pressed your hand on the bandage, hoping this one will last for longer than a few hours.

His eyes locked with yours. He smiled, again. "I'm not complaining."

You stroked your thumb over his skin while he enjoyed the moment, not pulling away just yet.

His body relaxed, getting used to the pressure against the lesion. Oh yeah, he was loving it.

You stood up and he was visibly disappointed. You were not gone for long, you washed your hands and joined him by the counter again. "You're a freak. You know that, right?"

"I'm aware." He wore that title with pride like a champion's belt.

You pulled your shirt above your head and disposed of it on the floor. You held Dalton's gaze while you knelt down in front of him. Your shirt serving as a thin pillow for your knees.

He stood up, immediately searching for something better that would not hurt your body, but your hands were already busy unzipping his jeans.

You took in the view of the striking contrast between the white bandage and his tan skin. You drank in the sight of Dalton towering over you while your eyes explored his abdomen and chest, all the way up to his face that was painted with a layer of curiosity.

But mostly lust. He watched you struggle to pull his free his cock from his clothes. "Good job." He praised you when you peppered kisses over his semi hard cock.

You stuck your tongue out and licked a few long strands along his shaft before you took him in your mouth.

Dalton's grunts got louder as he got harder at the feeling of your tongue teasing him. "I told you..."

You pulled your head back and twirled your tongue around his tip. You looked up at him and batted your eyes with a hint of innocence that made him smirk.

"It's better when you do it instead."

You knew he mostly referred to his aversion to hospitals (and pain killers), but the way he started to slowly push his cock deeper into your mouth confirmed his words had a double meaning.

He loved what you were doing right now, he loved how you turned him on with just a touch, but he also loved the attention and care you poured into your actions and into making sure that he was as safe as he could be. Not many people cared about him, at least not after the events. All he needed was you.

He snapped you back to reality when he made you gag around his cock. You pulled back, hands leaning on your thighs while you tried to breathe through the coughing.

"It's okay, breathe slowly. You can do it." He walked you through every step of the process so you did not panic at the sudden lacks of oxygen. "I know, it always takes you by surprise but you love it, don't you? I love it too." He spoke, softly, and he presented his tip to your shaky chin. He gathered some of the spit and your lips parted open for him. "I love it when you gag on my cock."

Another harsh thrust hit the back of your throat and tears pooled in your eyes. You held on his strong thighs instead and, somehow, that helped.

"I love it even more when you cry like this. So beautiful." He placed a gentle hand on the side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. You melted against his hand, but he used this sweet gesture to set the pace.

Your head bopped back and forth on his length, each time you took him better and deeper. You felt a bit less scared of the gagging, though it happened plenty of times. You figured out a long time ago that you would never get used to just how big your man truly was.

Dalton began to properly fuck your face, never pulling you too far away from him. He loved to feel you struggle around him. He loved to feel your hands try and grasp at something, anything, to help you stay focus and not push him off. He especially loved the way you pressed on his wound.

You earned the loudest moan you had heard from him today. So, you increased the pressure of your palm against the bandage and you toyed with his pain tolerance that was terrifyingly high.

Dalton played with you instead. He tested just how much you could take, keeping his cock so deep that your nose brushed over his shaved skin and that your chin touched his balls that were now covered in spit.

He gave you breaks to catch your breath and you smiled at him every time. He told you, over and over again, just how pretty you looked for him down there until your cheeks warmed up from all the praise and compliments.

So he shoved his cock inside of you again, with a newfound sense of urgency. He was getting close and you could feel it by the way he throbbed heavily in your mouth. You could hear it, too, with the melody of grunts and moans that he made. Dalton lost a bit of the mercy he was known to save only for you. He was chasing his own high and you happily let him.

Your left hand rested on his waist, nails digging into his flesh as you tried to take his pounding. On the other side, you kept pressing his wound. The more he winced and he scrunched his face in pain, the more you knew that he was enjoying himself.

It took more tears on your face, more muffled moans around his cock and a few more thrusts for Dalton to cum in your throat. So far down, you had no choice but to swallow his load. He pulled out, slowly, and smiled from ear to ear at the mess of spit and cum that covered both your face and his cock. He nodded briefly, giving you permission to clean up the mess.

You earned another good job, spoken in that soft voice of his that made your brain melt into a puddle. Just like you did at the beginning, you left small kisses all over his body. You focused on his defined v-line and puffy abs while working your way up.

Dalton helped you to stand up, guessing that all this time spent on your knees might have hurt a bit. "Easy, easy. I got you." He supported your arms until you were back up on your feet, then he insisted you sat down.

You did not protest, you were at the perfect angle now. You wrapped your arms around his waist, dragging your hands across his skin. You brushed over the bandage, only then noticing a touch of red through the material. You pressed a kiss in the valley between his pecs.

Kisses that continued until a faint grunt emanated from Dalton's mouth.

You wrapped your lips around his small nipple, your tongue twirled around it. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling, too.

Dalton pressed his body against yours when you gave the same treatment to the other sensitive bud.

You licked, sucked and nibbled on his nipples just the way he liked it.

He melted in your arms, your warm breath tickled the skin of his chest. It was still crazy to you how such a strong man could barely resist the gentle touch of your lips.

Soon enough, you left his chest as drooly and messy as his cock. That did not stop you, you were fuelled by all of his little reactions.

Heavy breathing, high pitched moans, his hips jerking forward. You loved everything that he was giving you.

You could feel his bulge pressing against you and this was the only reason that convinced you to pull away. You wanted more of him, you wanted to feel him so bad. As if he could read your mind, Dalton cut you off.

"You think you can give me all this attention," Dalton took a deep breath. "And I won't do the same to your pretty tits?" He leaned forward, crashing his lips against yours with a hungry kiss while he took the opportunity to let his hands wander over your skin. He caressed his way from your neck and down on your arms until his rough hands landed on your hips. He squeezed your flesh for a moment before moving upwards to fondle your breasts, only then being reminded of the presence of your bra that he unhooked effortlessly.

"But Dalton," you whined, watching your bra land on the floor. "I need you." He groaned, encouraging you to keep using your words. "I need you to fuck me, please." He hooked a finger under your chin, making you look up at him. "Please."

"You know I can go for a third round." He scoffed, amused by the way you insinuated that this moment you shared would end so soon. Then, his voice dropped lower, his ocean blue eyes appeared darker. "I can go for as many rounds as I want." He rectified himself.

You moaned sinfully, watching him stroke his cock to full hardness again.

"Hold them, yeah, just like that." You pressed your tits together, he pushed his cock in the small gap between them. Spit fell from your lips and dripped down on your chest. "That's my good fucking girl." He used the spit as lube and started to fuck your tits.

Not once did his eyes lose sight of you, your face turned him on just as much as the feeling of your tits on his sensitive cock. "You're a little freak like me, huh?"

His gaze fell down to your chest, he grunted again at the sight of his precum glistening on your skin. You looked at each other with lustful eyes. Dalton smiled. "If only you knew."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured VIII

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: There's an emergency

"Alexia...Alexia...Alexia!"

Alexia comes back into consciousness slowly. It's still dark out and her alarm clock proclaims it to be nearly two in the morning.

Olga is standing over the bed and even in the dim light, Alexia can tell something is wrong. Olga is saying something but Alexia is still waking up and only tunes in at the very end.

"-Already called Jenni. She's going to meet us there."

Alexia sits up, rubbing her eyes. "Meet us there? Jenni? What's going on?"

She flicks on the bedside light. Olga is still in her pyjamas but she's wearing her coat over the top and a pair of shoes. She's got Jaume on her hip.

He's got old little red pinpricks all over his neck and arms.

"Is that chickenpox?"

"No," Olga says, babbling at rapid speed as she shoves the sheets off Alexia's body," I thought it was but I saw some article on my feed about how to make sure it's not anything else and-"

"Olga? What is going on?"

"I think it's meningitis," Olga finally says," And we need to take him to the hospital."

Alexia's up like a shot, hopping around on one foot as she grabs the first set of shoes she can find. "It can't be," She denies," We got him vaccinated. I remember it!"

"That's what I thought!" Olga says back," But the rash doesn't go away when I press a glass to it and you know how he's been lately!"

Alexia nods, pulling on a Barca issued jacket. She pauses as she moves. "Bambi," She murmurs before raising her voice," Shit, Bambi! She was running a bit hot after her ballet class. But I just assumed it was all the movement. My phone...Where's my phone? I need to-"

"I used it to call Jenni," Olga says as they both go running out the door," She's going to meet us there."

She and Olga get there well before you and Jenni do.

Jaume is taken to get a spinal tap but the doctor is confident that it's meningitis so puts him on antibiotics as soon as the procedure is done.

"I don't understand," Alexia says," My kids are vaccinated! Both of them! They're up to date. I took Bambi to all of her boosters! Jaume's scheduled for another one when he hits a year!"

"Sometimes vaccines aren't one hundred percent effective," The doctor says, clearly used to calming enrage parents," What matters is that you saw it and you got him in tonight. The spinal tap should confirm the diagnosis but we've already got him on an IV." The doctor turns to leave before stopping. "You've got another child?"

Alexia's head frantically nods. "Yes. A girl. She's four. She's being brought in now."

The doctor nods, scribbling something on his clipboard. "As soon as she's here, have someone page me. Older children find it harder to stay still for the spinal tap. I'll contact anaesthesia and get someone to bring a mask."

Alexia's head changes from nodding to shaking furiously. "No!" She says it a bit louder than she meant to that even Olga looks shocked.

"It'll be better," Olga tries to explain," If they put her to sleep-"

"No, I mean..." Alexia shakes her head, the words spilling out of her mouth naturally. "She's allergic! To Isoflurane! That's the gas anaesthesia, right? Right?"

She looks around wildly as the doctor's face turns grim.

"I'll get some local," The doctor says," I know we made you wait outside for Jaume but it would be best if you came in for your daughter, if we're only using local, to keep her calm."

It's a waiting game until Jenni arrives with you and Alexia finds herself doom scrolling. She's dived into whatever article she can find on meningitis in children and the more she reads, the worse she feels.

They're yet to be allowed into see Jaume as the staff work to get him a bit more comfortable but Alexia can see him through the window and he's completely passed out asleep.

"I didn't know y/n was allergic to anything," Olga says softly.

Alexia laughs. It's more a nervous chuckle than anything else. "I don't even think Jenni does. My father was allergic. It skipped me and Alba but I wanted to check for Bambi, just in case."

"It's a good thing you did," Olga says.

Alexia looks down at her phone. "Where are they? They should be here by now."

"They'll be here soon. It's going to be okay."

It takes another ten minutes for you and Jenni to arrive.

You look infinitely worse than Jaume. The rash is completely obvious, taking over your whole body and Jenni looks just as distressed.

It takes another ten for the doctor to return.

You don't understand what's going on. Your Ma-Jenni woke you up super early before the sun has come up. She didn't get you dressed or brush your hair how you like it.

She didn't explain much at all...or, anything really. She just put you in the car and didn't say anything.

You'd tried to ask but your throat felt all scratchy and your tummy hurt.

All you know now is that you're at the hospital with Ma-Jenni, Mami and Miss Olga. There's a strange man with cold fingers that takes your shirt from you and makes you curl up on your side.

"Ma-Jenni?" You ask, trembling," What's going on?"

"Ssh, Bambi," Ma-Jenni says. Her tone is harsh, harsher than you've ever heard her speak to you and your tummy ties itself in a knot at her words.

You can hear the strange man talking nonsense to the adults and your eyes go wide at the tray of tools that's wheeled in. They look pointy and sharp, like the tools from that silly doctor show that Tia Alba likes.

You suck in a harsh breath when you feel a pinch at your back. You yelp and instantly try to wiggle away.

"No!" You cry," No! Off! Stop it! I don't want to! I don't want to!"

You force yourself to uncurl. You don't want this strange man touching your back. He makes it hurt and you got want any more of his sharp tools in your skin.

There's a grip on your legs though, forcing them back into position. You turn your head to look at who's got you against your will.

It's Ma-Jenni.

Her grip is firm and hard as she forces your kicking legs still. One of her arms has clamped them together, forcing them to stop moving while her other hand is on your hip, forcing your down onto the table until you're immobile.

You want her hands off you. Ma-Jenni has big hands that are perfect to hold you but not like this, never like this. You don't want her touching you like this.

"Ma-Jenni," You sob," Stop it! Stop it, please! Please!"

She doesn't stop though, merely readjusts her grip and pushes you down further until you well and truly can't move your bottom half.

"Stop it!" You continue to say," Stop it, Mama! Mama, stop!"

Hands curve around your shoulders and these are familiar hands too.

Mami's hands are perfect to hold in yours. They're always warm and they always hold you so gently. But now they've got your arms pinned to your chest and are forcing your shoulders firmly into the examination bed.

"Mami," You cry," Please stop. Mami, please. I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mami! Stop!"

Mami's lips ghost your hairline. "I'm sorry, Bambi," She says, her voice a whisper that you can barely hear over your panic," I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay. You just need to be still. I'm sorry."

You can't move and the strange man is doing things to your back. You can't feel any pain but you can feel pressure and you can feel when he sticks something beneath your skin where things aren't supposed to go.

The only thing you can do is move your eyes and they focus on Miss Olga, the only adult in the room that's not actively hurting you.

"Miss Olga," You sob," Make them stop."

Her eyes nervously dart to the door like she wants to run away but she doesn't. She steps closer to where the adults are holding you, crouching down until your heads are almost the same height.

"I'm so sorry," She says to you," It's going to be okay, I promise. They're just making sure you're healthy."

"Miss Olga, please," You reply. You try to kick out your legs but Ma-Jenni just grips them more tightly," I'm sorry. I can be good. I can be better!"

"Hey," She says softly when your eyes dart towards your Mami," You are being so good. There's no one being better. Do you know what's going on?"

"No."

"You're very sick," Miss Olga speaks gently to you and brushes away a portion of hair that's covering your eyes," And we need to know what's wrong. Do you remember a few months ago when we came here and they put a needle in my arm?"

You do remember that. It was on one of hospital visits that you went on to see baby Jaume in Miss Olga's belly. They took some of her blood that appointment.

"They takin' my blood?" You ask shakily.

"They're taking a little bit of fluid from your back," Miss Olga explains," And they're going to test that for the illness they think you have. Like how they took my blood to make sure I was healthy."

You sniffle.

Mami and Ma-Jenni's hands are like shackles around your limbs, wrapped around your flesh and unwilling to even give you an inch.

"I'm scared," You whisper.

"That's okay," Olga whispers back," It's always okay to be a little scared. But you're doing so well. You're being such a brave girl. I'm sure it won't be much longer now."

You can feel the thing in your back moving and you try to shift with it but Ma-Jenni's hand clamps down on your hip and anchors you to it so you can't move again, not even a little rock back and forth.

"Hey," Olga says, pulling your attention away from what's happening at your back," Your Mami told me that you've moved up in ballet. I'm sure it's so much fun."

"It is."

"That's great! Do you want to tell me about it?"

Actually, you find that you do what to tell Olga about your ballet. Your words come out stilted and stuttered but you force them out of your mouth.

Olga smiles at you. She's got a pretty smile, you think. Mami must really love girls with pretty smiles.

"That sounds so cool," Olga says to you," You must be so talented." She leans a bit closer to you and you don't even feel the man taking the pointy thing out of your back. "Hey, maybe when you're all better, you can show me some moves. Only if you'd like to."

You duck your head down as the hands slowly leave your body. "Yes, please."

You're rolled onto your back but you keep your head tilted to look at Olga.

You don't know much about her apart from the fact that she's marrying your Mami and they had baby Jaume together.

Mami and Ma-Jenni are still talking to the doctor so you can fully focus on Olga.

She and baby Jaume look alike, you think. They've got the same eyes and nose and face shape. You think that baby Jaume might get her pretty smile when he's older too.

Her hand is gently resting on the side of your bed and you very gently move your own until your fingers are touching.

She hasn't got big hands like how Mami and Ma-Jenni's are big but they're still bigger than yours. They're safe too. You know this because she's never once dropped baby Jaume, even when she once tripped over and fell on her butt. She didn't drop Jaume once.

She smiles her pretty smile and you smile too, not even noticing when the nurse hooks you up to an IV.

"Hey, Bambi," Mami says," Everything's going to be okay now. I'm so-"

You stubbornly don't look at her and she frowns.

"Bambi?" Ma-Jenni asks," How's your back?"

You don't even deign her with an answer. It's still early and you're very tired. You don't want to talk to them, not when they pinned you down like that.

"I'm sorry," The nurse says," But I'm going to have ask you all to leave. The legal guardians can sleep over but that's all."

You don't know what legal guardians means but you do know that Ma-Jenni isn't one. She lives in Mexico for most of the year so she can't be your guardian because you don't live there with her.

She looks like she's going to argue but she doesn't. She reaches to give you a kiss on the forehead but you flinch away and she stops before her lips can press against your skin.

"I love you, Bambi," She says," And I'll be back to see you as early as I can."

You don't answer her.

It's just Olga and Mami left.

"I'm going to go sit with Jaume," Olga says and you frown.

"Jaume's sick too? Did I get him sick?" Your bottom lip wobbles.

"No, of course not." Olga says firmly," You and Jaume just got sick at the same time. It's very sad but it does happen."

"Really?"

"Yes." She heads to the door. "I hope you feel much better later. Maybe, if you feel up to it, you can tell me about your trains? Your Mami says that you love them a lot."

You nod. "Yes."

Then, it's just you and Mami left.

The nurse has set up a little bed next to yours for Mami to sleep on.

Mami seems a little nervous with you, pulling at the sleeves of her pyjama shirt. She looks at you.

You look at her.

You only saw her a few days again, when you painted pottery together and you asked her if you were wanted.

Mami doesn't sit in her bed, she pulls up a chair next to yours. She tries to reach for your hand but you pull it away before she can touch you, cradling it against your chest as you stare.

"Bambi," She begins before shaking her head and stopping. She takes a few moments before opening her mouth again. "I'm very, very sorry."

Those weren't the words that you were expecting.

You still don't answer though. If you blink, you can still feel her phantom hands over your body and the iron grip she had on your limbs.

She scoots the chair closer.

"I love you so much and I'm so sorry that you're sick."

She looks like she wants to say more but you don't really want her to keep talking.

"Bambi, I...I have not been a very good Mami to you," Alexia has to force the words out of her throat even if you give no indication that you can hear her," And I'm very, very sorry."

You still don't say anything. You just lie on your back with your eyes wide open.

"I'm sorry for what happened at home and I'm sorry for what a few-"

"I'm tired, Mami," You say, your voice quiet and exhausted.

"Right," Alexia says, scolding herself inwardly at keeping you up. It's still the middle of the night. "You go to sleep, Bambi. I'll be right here if you need me."

The stress of everything tonight seems to knock you out quickly but Alexia doesn't move to her own bed. She doesn't move. She doesn't sleep. She just stays in that seat even as a nurse pops their head in to confirm that both you and Jaume have bacterial meningitis.

A week hospital visit and IV's full of antibiotics is what awaits you both, baring any complications.

Jenni returns as soon as visiting hours begin again, pulling Alba and Eli in tow.

Eli diverts briefly to check on Olga and Jaume while Jenni and Alba come straight to you. You're still asleep when they arrive, lying on your back with a cannula in your hand to administer your medication.

"You look exhausted," Alba says in greeting, handing off a cup of to-go coffee to her sister," Did you sleep at all?"

"No." Alexia continues to stare at you, focussed on the soft rise and fall of your chest as you sleep.

"I'm surprised you're still here," Alba continues and, for once, her tone isn't biting. She seems genuinely surprised. "Haven't you got training?"

"I called off for the week," Alexia replies," And next week. It's more than enough time for them both to recover."

"You're taking time off?" Alba looks even more surprised than before. "Like, actually?"

Alexia doesn't know why that's so confusing. "Of course. My kids are sick. They need to be looked after."

Alba's mouth opens and closes a few times before she settles on something to say," How is Jaume?"

"Good, better. The doctors said that it's good we caught it when we did. The longer the rash is there for, the worse he could have gotten. It came up last night. We caught here as quick as we could."

Alexia's glad for that. She has no idea what could have happened, how much worse Jaume could have gotten if they had left it a few hours, let alone a few days.

Jenni is strangely silent at her words, reaching out to gently brush some of your hair out of your face.

"How long of a hospital stay?" Alba asks.

"About a week for both of them. The doctors said that they're going to do a hearing test with Bambi in a few days and then four weeks after she's recovered."

"And Jaume?"

"The same," Alexia confirms," Olga is with him now."

"Mama's with her," Alba says," We picked her up on the way."

There's a rustle of sheets as you blink awake. A yawn takes over your whole face as you wake up.

Mami, Ma-Jenni and Tia Alba are all looking at you and you pull your blankets up until they're over your nose.

You don't like the fact that Mami and Ma-Jenni are in the same room together. You can still feel their weights on you, pinning you to the bed as you struggled to get free.

You don't want them here. Not within arms length of you, in case they take your top away again and pin you down.

"Tia," You croak out and Alba pushes past Ma-Jenni to take your hand.

"You're not looking too good there, Bambi," Tia Alba says," How are you feeling?"

"Is Jaume still sick too?"

"He's getting a lot better. Your Abuela and Olga are with him now."

"Is Abuela and Olga going to get sick too?"

"No, don't be silly. Adults don't get sick like that." Tia Alba's teasing you. She's putting on a silly voice and it shocks a little giggle out of you. "I'm sure once your Abuela is done with baby Jaume then she'll be right in to see you."

"And Olga too?"

Alexia goes rigid in her seat. "Olga doesn't have to come in if you don't want her to."

You don't even acknowledge she's talking to you.

"No one has to come in that you don't want to," Jenni promises you but you don't give any indication that you heard her either.

"Olga thinks that I'm talented," You say to Tia Alba," She asked me about my ballet and my trains. She wanted to know more. Did you bring any of my trains?"

The bag on Jenni's shoulder is passed off to Alba. She digs through it, pulling out a spare change of clothes as well as a few model trains that had been shoved in there this morning.

"I want to show Olga my trains," You say," When she's done with baby Jaume." You run your trains over the bed, making little chugging noises with your mouth.

"I think that's a great idea, Bambi," Alexia says but you don't answer.

You haven't acknowledged her or Jenni since you woke up and it's put her on edge. Even when you were scared a few days ago, you still acknowledged her.

But your focus is purely on Alba but even that is hit and miss.

Whenever Alba reaches out to play trains with you, you flinch away. You look up at her in shock each time before glancing back down at your arms as if you can't believe you flinched.

"How are you feeling, Bambi?" Eli asks as she comes in.

You shrug and raise your hand. "They put a thing in my hand."

"They put one in your brother's too," Eli says," It's to give you your medicine."

"Did they put the thing in Jaume's back too?"

Eli nods. "They did."

Your eyes are haunted as you stare at her. "Did they pin him down too?"

Whatever bubble that the room was in bursts and Eli notices the way Alexia and Jenni both exchange a wide eyed look, like two little children caught red handed.

Eli has to think over her words carefully. "You're both very sick," She settles on eventually," Do you know why they had to put something in your back?"

You parrot back the words Olga told you and Abuela nods.

"That's right," She says.

"Olga says I was very brave even though I was crying."

"I'm sure you were the bravest little girl in the world," Abuela kisses your forehead but her lips feel too much like Mami and Ma-Jenni's and suddenly you can feel their hands on you again.

You kick your legs out and move your arms to shake the phantom hands off and they're gone as quickly as they appeared.

"Alexia, Jenni," Abuela says," Can I talk to you out in the hall?"

As they all leave, you look through the windows of your room.

Olga is lingering outside, looking into your room every so often before looking away.

"Tia Alba," You say," Can I still show Olga my trains?"

"Should I bring her in here?"

"Yes, please."

Ma-Jenni and Mami stay outside with Abeula for a long time but you don't even notice.

You've never talked with Olga like this before, not really. There had been a few moments when she was pregnant with baby Jaume where you watched things together and you helped her cook but you had never been like this with her before.

You hand her one of your trains and smile when she plays with you, gently moving the trains around your bed together.

"Is Jaume going to be okay?" You ask her because she's Jaume's mami and she knows things like that.

"He's going to be just fine," She promises you," And so are you. Just a few more days."

"I'm going to miss ballet," You say," That's bad. Mami never misses her training so I shouldn't miss mine."

"Your Mami's missing training now," Olga says," And she's missing it until you get healthy again. That's what you should focus on. Getting healthy again so you can go back to ballet."

"Mami is missing training? Why?"

"Because she wants to make sure you're okay," Olga says," Because she loves you."

You don't believe her but Olga looks very serious so you think that she must think that's true.

"Olga," You say," I'm hungry. When's lunch?"

She laughs a little bit about your blatant change of subject. "A few hours still," She says," How about I go to the shop and get you a snack?"

Olga slips out into the hallway where Eli is still lecturing Jenni and Alexia about their treatment of you. Your sobs and begging still rung in Olga's ears, the way that you cried and cried and begged and begged.

"She's hungry," She says, interrupting the lecture," I'm going to get her a snack."

"I'll come with you," Jenni says," I need a coffee."

The trip to the little shop was awkward, made even more awkward when Olga selected a plain chocolate bar only to have it plucked from her hand and replaced with one with caramel.

"She thinks the plain ones are too hard," Jenni says, almost carelessly," She doesn't like how they feel on her teeth. She prefers caramel."

Olga stares down at the chocolate in her hand, noting down another new thing in the column dedicated to you in her mind. It's painfully bare with only a few things - trains, ballet, the allergy she found out yesterday and now your favourite kind of chocolate.

She had told Alexia she wasn't threatened by Jenni and that's still true but that doesn't mean that Olga isn't intimidated.

Jenni just looks a bit intimidating with her tattoos and her height and the stern look on her face when it comes to you.

"Thanks."

It's silent for a moment as they both wander through the winding hallways back up to the peds wing.

"No," Jenni says eventually, shaking her head like she had been fighting with herself," I'm sorry, Olga. But I have to know...How could you let this happen? With Bambi, I mean? Stuff like this doesn't happen overnight."

Olga wants to bolt, to run and escape this but she holds herself firm as she scrambles to find something to say, knowing exactly what Jenni is talking about. "I didn't notice," She settles on eventually," It is wrong to say but it is true."

Jenni can't seem to understand though. "But how? Bambi is...How could you just not notice?"

"I just didn't," Olga says," And that was wrong of me. It was wrong of Alexia. We've talked about it...a lot...We're trying to move forward, for y/n."

Jenni looks at her, long and hard and Olga suddenly understands what rival players feel when they see Jenni come onto the pitch.

"Don't let it happen again," Jenni says firmly before taking off again, leaving Olga to scramble to keep up.

You're exactly as they left you, sitting in the middle of your bed. You're making chugging noises with your mouth as you run a train over Eli's arm.

Alexia is back in her seat next to your bed but you've scooched away from her as far as you can get.

"Caramel!" You cheer when Olga presents your food," That's my favourite! Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

You munch happily on your food a little but before you stop to scratch at your rash.

Automatically, like she did a few days ago when she first noticed it, Jenni takes your hand to stop you scratching.

You violently flinch away, tearing your hand away from hers. You scrunch your eyes closed firmly as you suck in air.

You can feel the hands on your legs again, forcing you to go immobile as the strange man pokes and prods at your back.

"No!" You cry out, turning away and curling up under your blanket," Stop it! Stop it, Mama! No bad touches! No more bad touches!" You kick your legs out. "No! Stop it!"

"Out," You can hear your Abuela say.

Eli-"

"Out, Jenni! Alexia, you too! Olga-"

"I'll go and see Jaume. He should be up from his nap by now."

"No! No! No!" You continue to chant as the blanket is pealed back.

It's not Ma-Jenni though. It's Abuela with Tia Alba hovering over her shoulder.

You sniffle if you sit up again.

"What happened, huh, Bambi?" Abuela asks," What was that about?"

"Mama hurt me," You say," When the strange man touched my back. I asked her not to! I asked her to stop!"

"I know," Abuela says," I know, Bambi."

"I didn't know what was happening," You say," It was scary and Mama wouldn't tell me what was going on."

It was very scary. You didn't think Ma-Jenni would do that to you, would pin you down and not explain what was happening. Mami could be harsh sometimes and you know she can be rough on the pitch too. She even said she was sorry while doing it but Ma-Jenni didn't.

Ma-Jenni told you to shh and pinned you down and didn't say sorry. You can still feel her hands on you, constantly pinning your legs down and pushing you further into bed.

She didn't say sorry at all and that's what scares you.

"I'm sorry that scared you," Abuela says," I'm sure Jenni didn't mean to."

"She didn't say sorry," You say," And she hurt me."

"Bambi-"

"She did! I'm not lying!"

"No one says' you're lying," Tia Alba assures you," I think you're telling the truth but, Bambi, you needed to have that done, so you can get better."

Ma-Jenni comes back when it's dark. There's no lights coming through your windows and the moon is out so you know it's night time.

Mami is meant to be sleeping on the bed next to you but she's not there.

The door to your room opens though and Ma-Jenni steps in.

But she doesn't look like Ma-Jenni though. There's something different about her. Maybe it's her too sharp features or her too pointed teeth. Maybe it's the curve of her nails or the way she's looming over you.

You can't move and Monster-Jenni's sharp claws dig into your legs easily.

You shriek but she's pressing her whole weight down onto the hand that's got your legs while her other one pins you down by your chest. You can't move. You can't stop her no matter how much you plead and beg and sob.

She's still holding you with bad touches and the strange man appears again. He's got too sharp teeth too and a massive needle that looks even scarier than before.

"Mami!" You cry as you jolt awake, gripping your bedsheets and screaming.

Mami's up like a shot, looking around like she thinks someone's hiding in the shadows. You're scared that Monster-Jenni is there too.

"Mami!" You sob, reaching desperately for her, your mind recycling her apologies as she held you down.

This time though, you crawl into her arms and sob, burying your face in her shirt as you cry.

For a moment, Alexia is in shock at your willingness to touch her. Whatever you had dreamt about must have been bad because you've curled your body around hers and Alexia very carefully curls her arms around you.

"It's okay, Bambi," She whispers," It's okay. It wasn't real. None of it was real. I've got you. Mami's got you."

"Mami," You whimper," Mami, it hurts."

"What hurts?"

"Everything!"

"I'm so sorry, Bambi," Alexia says and she knows that you know what she means, just like how you know she knows what you mean by everything," It's all going to be okay. I promise, this is all going to be okay. No matter what happens."

"I'm scared, Mami."

"I know, Bambi. I'm going to help make it better."

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Can you tell me what hurts? - John Marino

Word Count - 5.5 K

Summary - Always struggling with having a abnormal menstrual cycle, and doctors not seeming to care. It sort of became the norm for you to just not really know what's going on with your body. After meeting John, you were worried if he would get scared with how sick you really got so often and run. Or would he be the one to stick around and try to help you figure out what's wrong?

Warnings - mentions of shitty doctors, a mental breakdown, some minor fighting, mentions of blood but I feel like that's a given, PCOS diagnosis

Author's Note - Thank you for always supporting me. I literally wrote finished this segment today because well life. If you have read the other segments of the 'Let me love you' series then you will know that this one is written in a different style. PCOS is one of those things that affects many different parts of life and so this segment does have more time jumps then I normally write. I just really wanted to do a good job of presenting PCOS as a whole, and not only one part.

let me love you masterlist. main masterlist.

Not having a regular menstrual cycle wasn’t something new to you. Never once in your entire life have you ever had a regular period. Fighting with doctors off and on until you ran out of willpower to try to figure out what was wrong with you. Why were you on birth control since you were a freshman in high school? Why was it if you let your body get off the medication you wouldn’t have a period for an entire year? Why would the pain from your natural period put you in the fetal position on your coach? Why was it so hard to lose weight compared to others? Why did you grow body hair three times as fast as others? And why did no one else seem to give a fuck to run the proper tests? 

Fighting with doctors since you were fifteen you ran out of willpower to fight, what was the point. Both of you knew that you had PCOS but they were too scared to diagnose someone so young with it. They didn’t want to have to tell a 19 year old at the time that you might struggle to have kids one day. So you did what you were told, you took birth control and every year like clockwork when your body becomes used to the drug, and your period wouldn’t stop for a month you would change your medicine and start the endless cycle over again.

Meeting John in your mid-20’s, he had no idea that you struggled almost fighting your body every month. Even if you didn’t have your period you still had the side effects of birth control.  Whether in pain from the medicine or crying out of frustration that you were deemed to take a pill for the rest of your life and no one seemed to care to figure out what was actually wrong with you. John still doesn’t know that your body seems to hate you not being able to regulate your own period. Both of you have only been seeing each other for about 6 months. He knew you were on the pill, and you both have been tested and have been having unprotected sex. But he doesn’t know that about once a year your body becomes a crime scene constantly covered in blood, not being able to have a maxi pad on for more than 30 minutes at a time. Although your body doesn’t seem to have any routine, the one thing it has down is when your body becomes used to the brand of birth control you’re on. Every November, your period came and it didn’t stop until after labor day, sometimes the first week of October depending when it came. As each day passed your stomach started to hurt more and more not sure if it was cramps warning you of what’s coming, or your one anxiety in the fact you were about to enter a month of hell and possibly a few ER trips before you could get in to your gynecologist.  

Sadly it was the first as you went to the bathroom to find that your period had indeed started. Sighing to yourself you reached under your sink and grabbed out a maxi pad and put it on. After you’re done using the bathroom, you go to the kitchen and grab some Advil and take 3 hoping it does something to ease the pain you felt. Cursing to yourself as you remembered that you had a date planned with John tonight to go to the movies. No longer feeling like leaving your apartment you decide to call him to cancel, and of course he picks up on the first ring. 

“Hey baby I was just about to leave my place.” sounding rushed. 

“Yeah about that..” taking a deep breath, feeling terrible about canceling but knowing that if you forced yourself to do too much now no way would you be able to last your usual month of hell. 

Johnny softly asks “What’s wrong y/n/n” it’s clear in his voice that his own anxieties are rising and you officially feel like a piece of shit girlfriend for canceling so last minute and not being able to be one of those girls who can just push through having their period. 

Closing your eyes as tight as they go, and gripping your uterus with your free hand you sigh loudly on the phone. “Johnny.” barely above a whisper. “I don’t feel so good.” trying to get the message across that you feel like absolute shit without having to tell him that your period from hell has arrived. 

“Are you sick honey? Do you need me to pick something up from the pharmacy? Can you tell me what hurts? So I can get the right medicine baby.” It’s easy to hear the shuffling in the background, knowing that he is probably slipping on his shoes now to leave. 

“It’s not that kind of sick Johnny.” you shyly admit. “I’m just on my period.” you whisper as you hear Johnny no longer making any sounds on the phone. 

“Okay well, I am still coming over.” he decided.

“Johnny you don’t have-” 

“No, I planned to go to the movies with my girl, so the movies will just have to come to her place instead. Are you craving anything baby? I can stop at the grocery store, do you need anything? I read somewhere once that a heating pad helps. Do you have one?” firing off his questions in seconds, it was sweet but overwhelming a little having someone care so much. 

“I don’t have any cravings, get whatever you want and yes I have a heating pad, but it’s too far away and I’m being lazy.” you softly chuckle your confession. 

“I can instacart snacks I’ll come straight over.” Suddenly you hear the door to his car close. “And before you protest you are in pain Y/N and you won’t grab your own heating pad that will help you so I will.” He hangs up the phone before you can even open your mouth. John spends the night with you, showering you with love, he does make faces of discomfort when you make a face that you're in pain. But he doesn’t say anything, you told him you're fine, nothing out of the ordinary. Which it wasn’t for you when you got your period. John was so sweet and caring the entire night it really did make you like him even more than you already did. Maybe even fall a little more in love with him, even though it was too early in your relationship to say the “L” word. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks have gone by and your period hasn’t lighted up, if anything it has only gotten worse.  Thankfully Johnny has been very involved with hockey the past two weeks that when you are together, you're at least able to hide the frequent trips to the bathroom, or popping Advil like it’s candy. But tonight John asked to spend the night and as much as you missed your boyfriend you really didn’t wanna admit to him that you’ve been sleeping with a towel under you because you don’t want to ruin another pair of expensive sheets or worse get a stain on your mattress. When you tried to make excuses that you had an early morning tomorrow, he said he didn’t mind waking up with you. When you tried to say that your apartment was messy, he said it couldn’t be as bad as last week when he went to Luke’s apartment since Jack has been in Michigan recovering from shoulder surgery. When you said you didn’t have any food in the house, he asked when that’s stopped you both before from ordering in, and that he will wake up even earlier to go to your favorite bakery tomorrow. Honestly you couldn’t think of any more excuses so you reductively decided to let him come spend the night with you. 

As soon as you got home from work, you took a much needed shower and changed into some sweats. Deciding to attempt to clean your much neglected kitchen since you have been feeling like absolute shit. Starting with the dishes you loaded the dishwasher, and cleaned by hand all your pans. Wiping down all the counters, and doing a quick mop of the small kitchen floor you started to feel better. 

Just as you were dropping the water into the sink and putting the mop away, John buzzes to get into your building. Walking over and letting him up, you speak into the mic to let him know your door is open. Deciding that you're suddenly feeling lightheaded probably because your iron levels are starting to be affected. Trying to make it to the coach, you almost make it when John walks in locking the door behind him. 

“Hey I went ahead and picked up-” stopping mid-sentence when he notices you sitting on the coach hunched over in pain. “Baby what's wrong?” he asks, sliding his shoes off, slowly making his way over to you. 

Sitting up you put the best fake smile you can muster. You say “nothing just needed to stretch out my back is all.” Feeling terrible about lying but you also would have felt more uncomfortable telling John who you’ve only been seeing for six months about your menstrual problems. 

“Okay” although you know he doesn’t believe you, but you’re thankful he’s letting it go at the moment. 

You have never been more thankful that John said he was tired after practice and rather not leave the coziness of your apartment. Deciding on a movie, both of you were cuddled up together on the coach, you only have to pay attention trying to put some pressure on your uterus so it wouldn’t hurt so bad. Now John was only half paying attention because everytime you shifted to try and lessen your pain level, you subtly rubbed against his dick and now he was starting to have what was a semi into a fully hardened dick. Feeling another cramp coming you shifted your body again trying to ease the pain. But before you could, John's hands stopped your hips, his mouth going to the side of your cheekbone. “Baby if you don't stop moving I think my dick might get permanent damage.” he whines, as he leaves little open kisses down your face. 

“Oh sorry” you blush trying not to not to move your hips too much. 

“Or we could let it happen.” As he starts leaving little kisses starting at your temple and then going below your ear, his hand going under your hoodie, inching closer and closer to your waistband. 

“Johnny I can’t” squeezing your eyes shut as hard as they possibly can until you see stars because you really didn’t wanna have to tell him this now. 

“okay.” laying back down against the couch. John would never push you if you weren’t in the mood but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was confused.

“I'm still on my period.” you shyly admit.

Sitting up more now as if his brain is doing the math, “wait didn’t you have your period like two weeks ago?” he questioned. 

“yeah.” Turning your back now to face him better. 

“Baby is it supposed to last that long?” he rhetorically asks. All you do is look down at your hands and he gives a knowing tone. “Baby, are you okay?” he asks gently, trying to hold you in the awkward way you're half laying down, half sitting down on the coach. 

“Yeah this just happens sometimes. I made an appointment with my doctor, okay.” you mumble, obviously wanting to drop the conversation and your thankful thank John lets both of you focus back on the movie. 

As the movie continues you couldn’t help squirming a little, as your back started arguing and your body suddenly felt even more fatigued probably from the low iron levels. Knowing that you should probably get some nuts or something from the kitchen. But all you can do is wince in pain, as it feels like someone is holding a sharp knife inside your stomach and every time you attempt to turn they twist the knife to cause more pain. 

“Baby?” You can hear John’s voice but you can’t process him speaking to you and breathing through the pain. Finally the pain subsides and you answer a very frantic looking John. 

“Yeah.” answering a little more weakly than you would have liked. 

“Can you tell me what hurts baby?” His brown eyes look so soft, full of care and also worry for you. His arms are going under your hoodie to attempt to deeply rub your stomach. His care made you want to cry because how can this boy be so caring. 

“Nothing, just my stomach. And I think my iron levels are low.” attempting to softly smile at your caring boyfriend but the worrisome look he’s giving you back, your smile must have looked more like you were in pain. 

“What do you need? Do you need to go to the hospital? Do you want me to grab your heating pad for the pain? You should probably be drinking more fluids love, can I get you some water?” generally asking.

“No, they aren’t gonna do anything. I have some painkillers in the kitchen and some nuts that should help with my iron levels. If you want my heating pad on my bed but you don’t have to, I can get up and grab it and the nuts.” As you go to get up, he gently places you back on the couch. 

“You must be really sick if you think I’m letting you leave this coach.” He says, leaving a kiss on your cheek and half climbing over you, half pushing you off of him. 

“What am I supposed to do when I need to go to the bathroom?” you yell to him as he disappears to go into the kitchen. 

“We will cross that bridge when we get to it.” He yells back in between the slamming of a ton of cabinets trying to find what he was looking for. 

A small chuckle leaves your lips at how demanding John is that you need to stay on the coach. “Johnny, we're gonna get to that point in a few minutes.” you tease him, although you are getting to that point where you need to change your pad. 

“Okay baby hold on.” He comes back with every single type of nut that you had in the cabinet; peanuts, mixed nuts, cashews, even peanut butter and a giant glass of ice water. Putting everything on your coffee table. 

He bent down so his eyes were on the same level as yours and he didn’t tower over you as you laid on your side on the coach. “Do you wanna go to the bathroom now or do you want me to go grab the heating pad and we can cuddle?” he softly asked, as his hand went to your hip and squeezed it while he waited for your answer. 

“Bathroom.” you whisper, slowly making your way to sitting up again.

“Okay will you please eat something first to help your lightheadedness, I don’t want you to pass out or something.” biting his lips is a nervous habit he picked up years ago back in his prep school years, a clear sign that he was having anxious thoughts due to your physical state. 

Now fully sitting up, you nodded your head no. “Johnny, I need to go to the bathroom.” your stern voice leaving no room for debate. John only let out a sigh as he turned around on the balls of his feet, now his back facing you. 

“Hop on baby.” he says he turns his head to try to make eye contact with you still at this odd angle. 

“What?” letting out a breath that could have passed for a giggle and a sigh mixed together. “I can walk Johnny.” 

“Baby please.” almost sounding like a whine. He continued softly “please let me take care of you.” he begged. 

“Okay.” Putting either leg on Johnny’s he stood up, walking you to the master bathroom. Softly he placed you on your feet when you got there. Quickly leaving so you could use the bathroom. Once you were done everything you needed to, you were leaving the bathroom, expecting to make it back to the living room where you expected John to be. 

But instead as you opened the bathroom door, you saw that John put all the nuts he got earlier, and your glass of water on a tray and it was now sitting on your bedside table on your side of the bed. He was currently turning on your heating pad for you, his back turned to you. 

Out of pure shock at how he was acting you gasped, it was enough for him to turn around in a second, practically leaping towards you asking “baby please can you tell me what hurts?” His arms closing around you pulling you towards him. 

“Nothing” you whispered. “Nothing at all. I just have never had someone care this much is all.” Holding onto him as tight as you could to attempt to share how grateful you were for your boyfriend. 

“Well get used to it.” he whispered in your ear, gently lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. “Please eat some nuts, and if you feel any worse I am taking you to the hospital.” 

“John, they aren’t going to do anything.” Not trying to pick a fight with him, but rather tell him what you already knew, even if your tone came out sounding a little condescending. 

“You don't do that Y/N.” he tried to counter argue but all you did was bring your hand to your face and pinch the skin on the bridge of your nose, trying to rub off the frustration that was starting to build up again. 

“Yes I do.” Slightly raising your voice, despite the fact that John was sitting right next to you on the edge of the bed. “This happens every single year okay. My body gets used to my birth control, I sometimes end up in the ER, occasionally for a blood transfusion an-” Johnny cuts you off before you can even finish the ‘and.’

“A WHAT?” His voice is much louder than it has been all night. “We are going to the ER, you are weak and lightheaded, and your period has been here for two weeks. What's that 14 days, you need medical attention.” 

A sigh leaves your lips as you explain to your very caring boyfriend again how they aren’t going to do anything. “Okay I only needed a transfusion once, and I usually don’t go to the ER till I hit 30 days okay. And it’s not like they give me medicine to stop it. I have to go to my doctor for that, but she’s booked up for a few weeks. It’ll be fine.” Trying to reach for him not sure if it’s to bring him comfort or yourself. “ Johnny, will you come lay with me?” Seeing his beautiful brown eyes soften. “Please” you beg, knowing you probably sound pathetic but you didn’t know if he was mad at you, thinking he could be because you said no to the hospital, still navigating the dynamics of your almost 7 month relationship. 

Nodding his head, he finally slips his shoes off not having time earlier he just realized due to worrying about you. He climbs over, turns on his side facing you and brings his hand to your cheek as you face him. 

“Hi” he whispers. “better y/n/n?” as he still lays over the covers. 

“I wish you could get closer.” you shyly admit. 

“What? Do you wanna lay on top of me baby all you had to do was ask.” Kissing you gently and pulling you on top of him. 

“No I can’t.” trying to get off of him.

“What do you want Y/N” sounding confused but also sighing, probably getting a little frustrated at the scatteredness of your mind tonight. 

“I wanna lay on top of you, but I-.” Taking a deep breath you deepen your face into his shoulder. As quiet as a mouse you spoke, “I’m scared of bleeding through my pad during the night. I don’t wanna get blood on you.” 

“It’s okay baby girl.” 

“No it’s not.” speaking at a normal tone. 

“Y/N. I am telling you that it’s okay, if you want we can use the towel I saw when I was turning your heating pad on.” 

“You saw that.” Almost sounding like you were close to tears, you face now in his neck, too scared to pull away because he would definitely see the embarrassment written all over your face. 

“Hey hey shh honey.” wrapping his arms around you, bringing you comfort for the first time since you exited your bathroom. “Please just let me love you for tonight.” he confessed as he attempted to kiss as if your face wasn't hiding. Shaking your head, yes that’s exactly what he did, turning off your heating pad. He spent the night whispering random little stories into your ear until you fell asleep, John not far behind you as the tiredness of the day lured him to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally today was the day of your doctor’s appointment with your gynecologist. Sadly, it had gotten to the point where you had to call out of work yesterday, because you felt so weak. It felt as if your body was rejecting you, the blood clots that were passing were huge and you felt sick to your stomach. Johnny has been staying at your place for the last week because “ I can’t leave you alone when you're like this Y/N.” So he just came home from morning skate to find you still curled in bed, half consciousness, craving sleep that just wasn’t coming. He practically shoved the phone in your hand to call out. Thankfully you had taken today off because of your appointment because there was no way you would have made it into work today. Slowly getting up to eat something and take a shower before you had to leave, surprised to open your bedroom door and hear the T.V in the living room softly playing along with what smelt like breakfast. Finally begrudgingly making your way into your kitchen you were shocked to see Johnny at the stove making breakfast. 

“Johnny, I thought you had practice.” as you softly pad your feet over to him wrapping your arms around his bare stomach, resting your head on the back of his shoulder blade. 

“I did but your appointment is today.” Speaking in a confident tone, like he didn’t need to be anywhere else. 

“okay..” Questioning your boyfriend's logic but before you could ask any questions he turns around and responds. 

“Listen you have been feeling like actual shit for weeks and I wanna support you by being there. Plus I don’t want you driving after yesterday.” Speaking in a comforting tone, it made you want to cry because you’ve never had someone care so much about why your menstrual cycle was so out of whack. 

“Okay.”

“Oh okay go sit down baby. I made you breakfast.” excited about his creation even though you couldn’t see it. “I woke up early today, to read about foods that are high in iron to help you before we find out what’s wrong. So I had eggs and then I had a spinach salad. And before you start, just eat some of the salad baby. I know you hate raw spinach but I made a dressing that’s supposed to be good and-” Finally looking over to you with your plate in his hand to see tears in your eyes. 

“Oh no babes.” Rushing over to where you were sitting on the bar, abandoning both plates of food in the kitchen. Carefully taking the pads of his thumbs to rub comforting circles on your cheeks and wipe any tears. “baby can you tell me what hurts?” The worry in his eyes so evident as he looked down at you. 

“Nothing.” you choke out, pulling John closer to you to almost standing between your legs as you sit in the breakfast bar chair. 

“Y/N/N I can’t fix ‘nothing.” softly chuckling, he whispered the next words so soft you barely heard him. “Why are you crying honey?” 

Finally removing yourself in the comfort of his chest, “ it’s just no one has ever cared like you before.” Looking up at him. 

“Well you better get used to it baby girl. Cause I’m gonna be here until you don’t want me anymore which I pray never happens.” Both of you share a soft smile, as he glances at your lips and gently leans in to share a gentle kiss.  

John stayed with you the entire day, even at the doctor's office holding your hand as the doctor was explaining how the ultrasound worked to see if you did have any cysts on your ovaries. The doctor was in the middle of asking him to step out so they could do the test, but you just tighten in his grip. “I am not leaving unless Y/N wants me to.” he states. 

“I want him to stay please.” your voice shaking from the level of anxiety you felt in the pit in your stomach. “Please Dr. Smith” your eyes pleading with the middle age white woman. 

“Okay Y/N. The tech will be in any minute okay.” softly speaking trying not to raise your anxiety any higher. John held your hand the entire internal ultrasound whispering in your ear how proud you were doing, even though it was definitely adding to the pain you felt. He held your hand the entire way home. He didn’t say a word, just kept rubbing his thumb over your hand. All you did was stare out the window, your mind replaying the words of your doctor. 

“Well as you know Y/N this could be a couple of different things, you could have PCOS - now what kind we would have to figure out. You could have some other type of hormonal disorder and I can recommend you to a hormonal doctor. But either way Y/N I am going to be honest, based on your previous scans and bloodwork it will be very hard for you to have children one day.” Her eyes went soft out of compassion but all you could think about was how compassionate could they be when you were probably the 100th woman she ever told this to. 

“What’s the percent?” you whisper, your eyes reducing to look at John. Your relationship many be new but you didn’t want anyone else but him and you knew he wanted children. 

“It’s hard to say, we will have to wait for new scans to come in.” Dr. Smith says, as she stadn to exit the room. 

Now in the car staring at the window you let the tears fall, you might have never known if you ever wanted kids before John. But once you met him, you knew you wanted to and the fact that something that you might not have even wanted until a few months ago may never be a possibility makes your silent tears turn into a sob as John parks the car in your apartment’s underground parking garage. He turns off his car, as he buckles his seatbelt and turns to you. But you refuse to look at him, you didn’t want comfort from the man whose dreams of becoming a father you might have just shattered. 

“Y/N.” you could hear John’s scared begging voice, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to turn to him. “Y/N please don’t shut me out.” he whispered, his voice strained with pain that was the final straw that broke you turning your head. John’s head was leaning against the headrest as he looked at you, his brown eyes even darker filled with emotion. After a few minutes of you refusing to speak to him, he asked you a simple question. “Baby do you trust me?” as he leaned closer to you, as if he was on the edge of his seat. Shaking your head, yes, it was as if your body moved in an instant. Struggling to see through your tears, all you could feel was John unbuckle your seatbelt and pull you over the middle console, pushing his seat back as far as it went. Somehow you fit in the small space that was left in his lap. Both of you lost track of time, but eventually you calmed down playing with the strings of John’s hoodie, as he put one of his hands under the back of your shirt drawing random shapes on your skin. 

“Hey Johnny?” Finally feeling like you can speak despite the rawness of your voice and the scratchiness of your throat. 

“Yeah baby?” he whispers, scared that if his voice goes above a whisper you will start pulling away from him like a few minutes ago. 

“Please don’t leave me.” Putting your face as deep as it goes in the crock of his neck. 

“What?” he breaths out. “Why would you even think that?” His hands suddenly squeeze you tighter, almost as if he started becoming scared that if his grip on you wasn’t tight you would slip through his fingers. 

“I can’t be a mom and you wanna be a dad.” Although the logic made perfect sense in your brain all John could do at your confession is scrunch his eyebrows together. 

“Again what?” His hand that was resting on your thigh moving you guided your face to look at him. 

“You really wanna have kids one day but you heard the doctor what if I can’t.” you admit your fear and all it does is give you more anxiety as you await an answer from John.

“Baby is that why you’re upset?” A big smile breaking out on his face, his toothless grin as you nod your head yes. “Baby I have always said I wanted KIDS with YOU. I didn’t even have kids on the radar until that family skate where I saw you with all my teammates kids’. I never even thought about and the idea of leaving you fuck no.” Both his heads going to hold your face. 

“And baby I am pretty sure I said I wanted to have kids one day with you. If we have trouble getting pregant we can do IVF okay. And if that doesn’t work we can adopt I don’t care if our children are biologically ours or not. I just wanna raise kids with you ONE DAY, not today.” John finishes his speech and all you can do is say okay and as you crash your lips in a kiss as a thank you to him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Few Weeks later…..

John held your hand the entire time in the waiting room while your doctor read your results, he practically held you when you went back to the room for the results of your updated bloodwork and ultrasound. The nerves of what was the possible next step was getting to you, you couldn’t stop your leg from shaking. John gently put the palm of his hand on your knee as a gentle reminder that you aren’t alone in this. 

Eventually Dr.Smith walked in, she told you that it was very obvious through your ultrasound that you had PCOS and she found it odd that no one had diagnosed you up to this point. She did tell you that unfortunately there was no cure which you already knew. She spent the next 30 minutes in your room, not answering your questions but John’s. When she told John that a Mediterranean diet was best for women with PCOS he immediately went to Amazon. He lightly demanded that Dr.Smith tell him which cookbooks were the best and from that moment on you didn’t really cook. John always cooked for you or with you, he even changed to a mediterranean diet. Johnny would always make sure he had made plenty of meals that you could easily heat up, or dinners that he froze that you could eat when he was on long roadies. 

Johnny always took care of you, of your intense cycles, crazy mood swings, special diet, working out with you. Although he stopped when he realized you couldn’t stop undressing him with your eyes. Johnny was with you the entire way, you felt relief not only because you had a name for what was happening to you. But because you had a support system within John for the crazy rollercoaster that you were on due to having PCOS. 

Every single day, you find yourself being even more grateful for listening to Johnny all those weeks ago when he asked you if you would just “let me love you.”

[alotofpockets]

We've got you | Arsenal WFC

Pairing: Arsenal x Teen!Reader

Request: Arsenal teen reader fic where they have an eating disorder and the team helps them through it.

Warnings: Eating disorders, passing out, talk of negative body image.

A/n: Thank you @catasha for proof-reading and your feedback & thank you @lessi-lover and @greynatomy as well for your help 💗

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2k

-----

As the youngest player on the team a lot of your teammates kept a close eye on you. They made sure you did your homework, helped you pack your bag, and in general were there for you for whatever you needed. There was one thing they hadn’t noticed though, and it was that you had started eating less and less. You were actively trying to hide it from them, so you didn't blame them for not noticing.

You had been diagnosed with an eating disorder when you were fourteen years old, and though you had been doing better the past year, your old habits started to reappear. Of course, something like that doesn’t really go away, but the voices in your head telling you that you shouldn’t eat have been quiet.

None of your teammates knew about your diagnosis, as you hadn;t struggled with it during your time with Arsenal. Well, not until now. In your plan to hide it from your teammates, you hadn’t counted on someone knowing the symptoms of an eating disorder, but one of them did. Alessia Russo, one of the more recent signings was keeping an eye on your food intake, unbeknownst to you. She had noticed you barely touching your breakfast. At first she didn’t think anything of it, but when she saw you only eating a few bites of your lunch, until you excused yourself, her mind started to wonder. She recognized patterns she had been stuck on in her highschool years, and hoped that she was wrong, but she couldn’t just let the thoughts go.

After training that afternoon, Alessia walked with you back to your bags, having placed hers conveniently next to yours at the start. The two of you are talking, when she grabs a protein bar from her bag. “Man, I’m full. Can I interest you in the other half? I would hate for it to go to waste.” You hesitated, but took the bar from her, not fully confident in denying food one on one. Alessia continued talking, but you didn’t hear a word she was saying as you were trying to convince the voices in your head you should eat the bar she offered. You don’t deserve to eat. You’ve gained weight, eating the bar will make it go up more. You tried to fight it. I already took the bar, I have to at least take a bite to show my appreciation. After fighting with the voices in your head for what felt like half an hour, you managed to move the bar up to your mouth with a shaky hand. Luckily Alessia was busy untying her boots, and didn’t see your hands shaking. One small bite is all you were able to eat before the voices in your head started to get loud again. You smiled to Alessia, “Thank you for this.” and head back to the locker rooms. Once you were out of sight from the rest of the team, you threw the bar in a nearby trash can. 

You were currently training in Portugal, so you didn’t have much time where you weren’t surrounded by your teammates. Each meal time was taken together, so you diverted to making it seem like you were eating by tactically moving around the food on your plate, putting a bite on your fork and moving it around while you were conversing with the people surrounding you. Trying to keep their focus on your words, rather than the lack of food actually entering your mouth.

Alessia stuck around until most of the room had cleared out, leaving just the two of you in the room. She moved over to your table, “Hey y/n, how are you doing?” You look up from your plate, “Oh hi Lessi, I’m doing alright. How are you?” She smiled at you softly, “I’m doing alright as well. I wanted to check in with you, to see if everything was okay, since I noticed you hadn’t really touched your food.” Your cheeks turned red, had she noticed? You quickly shake off the thought and shrug your shoulders, “Oh, yes, I’m okay. Just not very hungry, that’s all.” Alessia didn’t want to push you, knowing that that could make it worse, so she settled on talking about football instead, to bond with you, and not let you be on your own. 

The next day you were running around during practice, you loved drills where you got to show your speed. The team was split into two lines, as you would be competing against each other. One person from each team would go at the same time, sprinting to the finish line, the one that reached it first would earn the cone for their team. The team that got to ten cones first would win the exercise. 

Your team was currently at nine cones, while the other team was at eight. It was you running against Lotte, and if you were the fastest, you would get the victory for your team. “You’re going down, grandma.” The team knew you as a joker, so Lotte was used to your antics. “Yeah yeah, you just focus on not tripping over your own feet, kiddo.” You roll your eyes at her, “That was one time!”  

The two of you get ready on the line and wait for the countdown and the whistle to blow. You were running neck and neck, until about three quarters of the way, it was then that you got a step ahead of Lotte, but your lead didn’t last long, as suddenly you found yourself getting weak and dizzy. You divert from the straight line that you were running, and slow down your run. Lotte immediately noticed that something was wrong, and stopped her run to help you. “Hey kid, what’s wrong?’ She grabs your shoulders to keep you in place. “Dizzy.” Is all you get out before you collapse in her arms. 

You passed out for a moment, but luckily the medics were quick by your side. “What happened?” You ask when you see all your teammates standing around you with worried looks on their faces. “You passed out, kid. Do you know what happened?” Leah had your head laying in her lap. “Don’t know.” You say groggily, still not feeling well. “Let’s get you to one of the physio rooms to get you checked out.” One of the medics reached down their hands to help you up. 

Everyone was in the hallway, waiting to hear what was going on, a few of them pacing the hallway, and others sitting along the wall. “She was joking around just moments before, how could this happen out of nowhere?” Leah voiced the thought that most of the girls shared. “I might have an idea.” Alessia said softly. 

The medics walk out of the physio room once they are done examining you, “She seems alright now. We don’t know what happened yet, so we will have to keep a close eye on her. We advised her to stay in the room for at least another hour, just until she feels a bit stronger again. You can see her though.” 

After what Alessia had just shared with the group, just Alessia, Leah, and Kim go into the room first. “Hey kiddo, how are you doing?” Leah sits down on the bed with you, and wraps her arm around you. “I still feel a bit weak, but otherwise okay. You all look very serious though, what’s going on?” Leah looks up to Kim with tears welling in her eyes, not being able to do the talking without breaking. You were like a little sister to her, and it hurt seeing you like this. “It came under our attention that you haven’t really been eating, and we wanted to check in with you. You really scared us out there kid, you need to take care of your body. Can you please tell us how long this has been going on?” They knew now, so hiding was no longer an option. “I was diagnosed with an eating disorder when I was fourteen.” You could feel Leah tense beside you, as she came to the realisation just how serious this was. “I never mentioned it because it’s not been a problem since I’ve joined the team. It started playing up again a few weeks ago, I can handle it.” You were downplaying your wording, trying not to scare your teammates. Leah shook her head, “You’re not handling it though, you literally passed out!” You were shocked with the emotion behind her voice. “Leah, I’m fine.” Leah felt herself getting angry, “No, y/n, you’re not.” She said before she left the room, not wanting to get angry with you while she knew you were struggling.

It stays quiet for a moment, before Alessia speaks up. “I struggled with my weight and my body a lot growing up. I wanted to be skinny, but it ended up making me too weak to play. I learned that for football being strong was more important than my body fitting this image in my mind that society had created.” Kim continued where Alessia left off, “It’s important to give your body the right nutritions, it is for all of us, but especially for a growing body like yours. Skipping meals can harm your body, more than it will do good. We understand that this is a lot, but we really do not want anything like today to happen to you again.” Tears started to form in your eyes. Kim stands up and goes in to hug you, “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got you.” 

Once you calmed down a bit, Kim continued the conversation. They wanted to do everything in their power to help you, because they understood how mentally challenging an eating disorder could be. “We’re going to set up a meeting with the dietitian and nutrition team tomorrow, and get you on a plan that will help you eat in a healthy way, that is based on your body specifically. Alessia is going with you, because her experience will help make sure your best interest is at heart. We are going to be there with you every step of the way. You’re a part of a team, and that means we don’t let anyone go through something alone, okay?” You nodded, “Okay.”

In the hallway Leah is crying into Lia’s arms, after she asked the rest of the team to give you some space today. “She’s acting like nothing is wrong, Wally.” The older girl rubs her hands over her best friend’s back in soothing motions. “I understand, but she needs you Lee. I know you’re angry with her for not telling anyone she’s been struggling, and with yourself for not noticing she was, but let’s focus on the fact that it’s out in the open now, and you can help her.” 

Lia’s words were convincing, so much so that Leah headed back into the room, and asked for a moment alone with you. “Hey kiddo, I’m sorry I ran out. I couldn’t handle my emotions in a way that would be fair to you, so I needed a moment.” You smile at her softly, “It’s fine Lee. I understand, it was big news, and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.” Leah steps forward and hugs you to her chest. “Let’s get you home, okay?” You had been living with Leah since you moved to London, probably the reason that you were closest with her. “Okay.”

The next morning Leah drove you to London Colney for your appointment with the dietitian and nutrition team. Alessia was already waiting when you arrived, she greeted you with a hug. “It’s good to see you, kiddo. Are you ready?” You returned the hug. “As I’ll ever be.” 

It was very helpful having the both of them there. Leah for reassuring you, and Alessia to make sure you answered all their questions properly. After an hour of talking with the team, they had set up the basics of the plan for you. In the next couple of days they would get back to you with a more elaborate plan, including meal options and recipes. 

You know that your journey with food and your body weren’t going to be easy, but you knew that you weren’t going to be alone. The team had always been like family to you, and yesterday showed you again that they would love you unconditionally, and that they would be there for you, no matter what. 

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[brandileigh2003]

Wolfstar fic recs featuring disability, chronic illness, chronic pain, or characters who are deaf or blind

**please feel free to drop your own fic or recs in comments and I'll add.

~~~please give these authors love, comments and interaction means more than you know. ~~

orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond divorced wolfstar get back together, flashbacks to remus getting diagnosis, breakup, and Sirius dealing with alcoholism. Raising teddy. Hea.

-love finds a way by littleoldrachel: Jurassic Park exes to lovers

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe: @lavenderhaze get back together, raising teddy, the second has mcd but if you just read first you can pretend he's ok? (I know I have friends who don't touch mcd with 10ft pole)

-(really you can't go wrong with any of peachyybabe, disability, chronic illness and/or mental health/illness in all.

-Forget the World by @amberlink mcd. Sirius is a surgeon, saves remus' life and they marry for insurance. But ofc fall in love along the way as Remus' heart gets worse. this was so good and explored brief as well

-my jokes are my armour, my kindness is my sword by @littleoldrachel remus owns flower shop and meets the gang (seizures and chronic pain

-Like Real People Do by third_crow coffee shop au, also sirius raising harry. So good.

-Tender is the touch (of someone that you love too much) by @purplefiction-ao3 remus has heart condition, written by person with chronic illness themselves

-Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations by TheQueerTailor Sixth year has just started and Remus is barely keeping up. He's just sixteen but it feels like his body is falling apart.

-heat and balance by @eyra also interesting look into Sirius dual role of partner and caregiver

-We’ll Make It Out Alive by wolfstar_addict417 texting fic, raising teddy

-the mayors of simpleton by fruity_individual get back together, remus is blind, raising teddy

-Found Heaven by fierrochase fluffy text fic, so cute together

-Black's Anatomy by @grasslesss greys anatomy fic, remus has lupus

-The Sickness Unto Death by oliverdalstonbrowning university au, remus has cystic fibrosis

-Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers by @poppunkpadfoot bookshop au, sirius raising harry

-My Only Sunshine by Loua29xx: remus had cancer. Mcd

- Young Blood by viwrites @just--vi road trip au, jegulus main, remus has heart condition (I've been told the 2nd focus more on wolfstar, haven't gotten there yet)

-I Don't Care if My Heart Breaks by orphan_account: bookshop au, remus has cerebral palsy

-Be silent like deep water by @her-smile-forges-galaxies remus is deaf

-Give Me A Sign by@theresthesnitch soulmate fic, remus is deaf. Wip

-Kill Your Darlings by MesserMoon: @sophsicle jegulus main but remus is deaf. Hockey and University au

-Signs of Affection by KittyCargo: remus is deaf, teacher asl

-For the Love of Ducks by viwrites Remus has heart condition

-a lot of Lucigoo89 feature in some way. @lucigoo this is a great example- Finding my fate in the sensory room

-Sweets and Books by Writer_INFJ_2w1: bookshop au, chronic pain

- feel what its like to be new by peachyybabe: boarding school au, sirius is blind

-Rarer Than One in a Million by Sp00nhater wolfstar is so soft and sweet, meet in hospital

-one shot: Another New Potion? by depressed_and_nauseous

-wip: bite the hand by raggedypond: zombie apocalypse

-The Language of Flowers by B1ackCatChatsBack Remus has ra, flower shop

-Good Old Fashioned Lover Boys by Hell_Again: bakery au

-Casimir Pulaski Day by breadpoetssociety: cancer, mcd

-Forever Is a State of Mind by orphan_account (deaf remus)

-Living Like We're Renegades by orphan_account (hoh remus, university)

-Mile High by quidditery chronic pain

-this is not a temporary love (now my heart is in your hands) by littleoldrachel (pining, abandoned as far as I know, but worth it!!!)

-I Didn't Come Here to Party, I Only Came for the Cake by attheendoftheday gbbo Remus with fibromyalgia

-Six Feet Apart by Belle_Lestrange101 pandemic fic, Remus has hiv

-Beyond the Heartbeat by bizarrestars: ultimately a story about grief of regulus, with the middle soft wolfstar falling in love. Remus and illness is featured.

-Small Bones of Courage by Anonymous mcd, please read tags, sensitive topics. Later in life lycanthropy is terminal for remus.

-Fractured Skies by orphan_account coffee shop fic, Sirius is deaf, Remus has epilepsy

-as it was by peachyybabe A story about falling in love with a stranger in a bookstore and learning how to live again.

-An Infinte Ocean orphan_account: teddy has cf, Sirius is amputer

-Blind Werewolf McWolf by orphan_account Remus is blind

-Message from Seat 25A by PleaseDonateBlood 1 shot lupus

-if you were a waiting room. by beaniesandblackcoffee

-Time May Change Me by Kaymardsa lupus

-Underneath It All by Kaymardsa: seizures, texting fic

-i don't want to be your muse by yellowmarshmallow muggle asexual remus with chronic fatigue syndrome

-waiting room by haey1

-Remus lupins guide on how to (not) become a quidditch seeker by Girl_rotting

-Physiotherapy by @missmoonfrost Sirius helping remus see his body and therapy in another light

***all of my fics have disability or chronic illness rep two of my faves: silence between us (deaf remus + disability) and inevitable (cancer, mcd)**

These are prb widely known but...

-Highland Fling [+podfic] by @picascribitremus has lupus. They meet when Sirius is backpacking

-Text Talk by merlywhirls: Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number.

-Blends by rvltn909 coffee shop (sequel names goes into it a lot more)

-A Cup of Sugar by MsAlexWP: both harry and remus disabled

-Discards by picascribit read tags , sensitive subjects: remus has hiv

-A Wolf's Heart by mizdiz : meet in bookshop, remus has heart problems, mcd

-Problems with Narrative Structure and the Rules of Manly Engagement by @xinasvoice : get together fic, remus is an author has fibromyalgia

@just--vi did a tiktok video with these mentioned too that I forgot (give her some love)

-A Wolf, A Bear, A Dungeon Master, and Boy Wonder by ratmom819

-Forever is Definitely Punk Rock by orphan_account (lupus)

-Put Your Head on My Shoulder by jennandblit

-Sunshine on Leith by eyra

Spoons and Stars by Chlobliviate (Rec from glittery-grandma) chronic fatigue and pain, wolfstar in uni

Others who sent me recs:

With different eyes by Shadowmun: blind Sirius is a seer. (haven't read this but def it's on my list) Also check out ao3 or tumblr there are some others that aren't wolfstar @mundrakan

---feel free to check it my main rec list

I shall also direct you to some lists by the @wolfstarlibrarian I'm sure there is some in common but they also have more one shots that I unfortunately usually don't track for the most part (this is amazing account, and not mine, but give them lots of love)

Wolfstar + Chronic Pain, Wolfstar w/Disabilities, Deafness, & Blindness, Wolfstar Hospital AUs, Sick Fic Oneshots, Terminally/Chronically Ill Remus Fics

••new additions

-Finding Warmth by Moony (adashofinspiration): deaf remus and blind Sirius

•As I Held My Breath by moodymoony103, niffler934 (82k) modern get together, teacher remus, Sirius raising regulus' daughter

From tbr: •amicus curiae by femme_de_lettres: wip au law students

•Becoming Remus this Christmas by mybelovedmoon (wip, chronic pain ft trans remus

•Petit pas by Curiosities: ballet au, Remus injured in accident

•maybe time running out is a gift by messrsrarchives (wip, mcd) cancer

[fandomobbsessedb]

Your Favorite Player’s Favorite Player

Young-Il/ Frontman / In-Ho/ Player 001 x Gi-Hun's Sister Reader)

Chapter 1 : Prologue.

Warning: Swears, fire, mob like guys, stressful situation, weapons, there may be some age inaccuracy but who the hell cares. It’s entertainment.

“Where have you been?”

I leaned my head down thinking I had my way past him. My snitchy ass older brother Gi-Hun. He’s always in my business. Even though he’s older by like, psh, 30 years at least, he’s always in my business, like he has to take care of me like a parent.

“I wasn’t anywhere oppa” I rolled my eyes at him going to walk past his much taller, lankier frame in the doorway.

“You weren’t wearing the shirt when you went to your friends house this morning, did something happen.” He asked crossing his arms. Knowing he had a soft spot for me, I turned off my attitude and turned on the theatrics. With a sigh I dropped my shoulders.

“Y/N, did something happen?” He asked again, his voice still sounding accusing. I rolled my pack off of my shoulder and pulled out the shirt I had this morning, my friend had offered to pour her juice on it so that I could leave the store wearing the shirt I wanted. Turning around with an upset face I held it out to him feeling his tough calloused hand take it from mine.

“(F/N)’s baby brother spilled his juice all over me earlier so she offered me her shirt to wear in the meantime.” I kept my gaze on the floor. I knew I would laugh in his face if I had to look at how stupid he was.

“Mhm, okay. I’ll just get this washed for you then.” He said with a softer tone.

“Thanks” I quickly turned away ready to shut myself in my room and empty my backpack when he just had to stop me again.

“Where’s F/Ns shirt from? It looks really good on you.” He said. Kissing my teeth I turned back around and shrugged.

“It looks like it’s from Nohant, and it was 50,000 won. Wow.” He added, causing me to whip around to face him, he was closer to me now, holding a ripped tag in his hands. With a surprised face he looked back at me. “At least that’s what this tag says” he pointed to it.

“Ugh, go away Gi-Hun.” I protested in his face, taking my shirt back, when he grabbed at my arm.

“Your stealing again aren’t you?! Damn it Y/N what did we talk about just a few months ago.” He shouted at me, keeping a firm grip on my arm.

“Let me go weirdo.” I struggled against him.

“No y/n, I care about you to much to let you go down this path.” He said harshly, rolling my eyes I met his with scorn.

“And why is that huh? Why DO you care so much, your not mom, you have your own issues, I’m just getting ahead my own way.” I spat in his face before he finally released me to my room.

I slammed my door shut and threw my bag down to start looking at the loot my friend and I had split. I heard a sigh from the door before he spoke up.

“Because, your life hasn’t even really started yet and you’re already sinking.” I heard him say before his footsteps receded into our creeky old house. I shrugged and started trying on jewelry we had snagged today.

Now as I look at myself getting ready for work in the mirror, I still don’t think what I was doing was wrong, because I’m still getting away with it, I mean, it’s not stealing if you don’t get caught.

And Gi-Hun wasn’t even around to catch me. Gi-Hun hadn’t been home for about a week, ever since he went missing for a week three years ago he hasn’t stopped going on about this game he thinks he played where 455 other players all died and he had won 45.6 billion won. Since then he’s been trying to find it again and stop it. I wonder when his cop buddies will give up on him and drop him off at home with a dementia diagnosis.

—— a few hours later——

There was only a few downsides really when your working at one of the shitier hotels in Seoul, Korea. Mostly the pay and the people, we have crooks and wrong doers staying all the time, even some working there. Myself included. When cleaning up one guests room while he was away, my eyes just so happened to meet the shiny watch and wallet sitting right there…. Right on the desk…….. I’ve been needing a new wallet, and that one looks like it would do just nicely.

Another upside is the five finger discount you get on “local” merchandise.

I quickly stashed the pricey looking objects into my bra before I grabbed my cart and left, assuming nobody had seen. However I failed to notice there were two guests staying in the room…. And one was using the bathroom when I came in.

I entered the elevator the next day ready to check into work, when a hand grabbed at the door, stopping it from closing, I went to step out of the way when the same hand grabbed around my throat.

My back was shred up against the wall of the shitty elevator as the thug jumped me. A handful of others walked in creating a shield around the sight. I heard them press a button for the highest floor. As the elevator made its way up, his hand slowly got tighter and tighter.

“Are you sure this is her?” He asked looking over his shoulder to another guy, wearing the clothes I remember dropping off from dry clean just the other day.

“Oh I’m sure, all the maids shoes look the same except hers, she’s got that cute little buckle on the ankle” he said lighting up a cigarette and kicking at my thrashing feet. I clung to his hands trying to pry them away from my neck only to fail miserably.

“Where’s my wallet bitch?” He asked picking my head up using my throat and slamming it on the wall again.

“What wallet, I have no idea-“ as soon as the strangled words left my mouth I felt a cold hard barrel push into my side.

“Need a reminder?” The goon asked close to my ear, I could feel the moisture coming off his breath as he get personally familiar with the tissue of my outer lobe.

I thrash again to get him away only to hear the cock of the gun. “Okay! Okay! I pawned it.” I cried out shakily as the grip on my throat got tighter.

“There’s no need to make this so hard you two.” A voice from behind spoke up. Just as I saw small dots in the corners of my eyes I was let go and kicked to my knees, the fall caused my tights to rip right at my inner thigh, when I tried to scramble away a loafer stepped on the tip of my tights causing my pull to bust even more of the seams. A well dressed man attached to the foot inside the shoe bent at his waist down to my level.

“I’m to assume you pawned it recently then correct? Must’ve given you a pretty sum in return, it was brand new too.” He softly spoke in my face taking my cheek softer than the other man had taken my neck. I nodded fearfully as my lip quivered.

“Knowing a pretty little thing like you has probably never seen that big of an amount in her life I’m going to assume you didn’t know what to do and just have it locked away at home right?” He asked. I nodded again my body growing shakier.

“Then I’ll tell you what, you go and get that wallet back, and this whole thing will have never happened.” He replied with a stoic face standing back up, releasing my tights. Nodding I leaned back against the wall.

“Until then however-“ he got cut off as the goon with the gun yanked my purse from me, “We’re going to hang onto this for some insurance” he said holding his hand out to the man to look through it. Opening my wallet they found my debit card, and a small picture of my brother and I from when I was little on the inside.

“Don’t let this take too long, otherwise- we’ll have to hold something else for insurance.” He quietly spoke, leaning really close to my face with the picture before using his lighter to catch the corner. I heard the bell ring signaling the top floor they where staying on. As all his men retreated from the door, right before the man followed he took one last look at me and dropped the now flaming picture onto the floor.

He pressed the button to shut the door and quickly jumping out of the way of the closing door as the machine once again descended.

With an aching sigh I sat up hugging myself. What was I going to do? I had spent the money. I used it to pay off some personal bills and previous expenses, it was only enough to chip at it though and if I didn’t have the money back from the wallet and its contents… it might just be easier for them to kill me.

Changing out of my work outfit back in the housekeeper locker room, I quickly left the building for the train station to go home. To try and figure out a plan.

When I got there I sat down on a bench far from the entrance and other riders. As I sat waiting, I took out my phone and considered… texting my brother…. I don’t know how he got all that money but he had it, I could borrow some from him just to pay off those guys or to buy the wallet again and give it back. But then I would owe Gi-Hun, I didn’t need that added stress right now. I felt a soft hand on my shoulder before I looked up.

“Miss is everything okay?” He asked, he had slicked back hair and a nice suit on, thinking he was a goon from before I jumped away from him grabbing for my pocket knife.

“Who are you, where you with those guys in the elevator,” I rushed out wielding my knife at him. Making a shocked face he simply smiled at me and said…

“I just wanted to ask if you might play a game with me. How does a game of ddakji sound?”

After having lost one too many of an easy kids game I felt a need for redemption. I stared at the number on the back of the card as I walked home. Was this that thing Gi-Hun was talking about before? I doubt it that was one measly kids game, almost half a hundred dozen people couldn’t have died from just that.

Walking into the house I sat at the table with a sigh as I cradled my face in my hands, thumbing at my sore throat. I stood to grab a bag of ice for my neck when I heard a creek from behind me. Whipping around and seeing nothing, I quickly shoved the card into my purse and quietly slunk to the counter to grab a kitchen knife. I quietly creeped towards the halls entrance as I heard the creeks of the one floor board getting closer and closer. When a body flushed past me at the entrance I swung out the arm with the knife only to be grabbed at my wrist.

“It’s just me Y/N.” Taking a glance at his starchy brown eyes in the soft light from the kitchen, Jun-ho released me and took the knife into his own hand.

“Oh, you had me worried” I sighed out resting my hands on my hips, “I thought some creeper had gotten In.”

“Is everything okay?” Gi-Hun spoke from his doorway making his way to meet us in the hall. With a groan I turned around to grab my purse from the table.

“I stand corrected” I mumbled hoisting my heavy purse over my shoulder once again.

“What happened to your neck y/n?” Gi-Hun asked me looking down at me concerningly.

Shoving him away from me I grabbed my purse from the table and walked to my room.

“Nothing” I mumbled trying to breach past him, only for him to gram my arm again, with a sigh I did the only thing I could think of.

“Really oppa, I’m fine.” I said again clearer, playing on his soft side, hoping he would just drop it. Luckily for me he sighed as well and released me. I big my goodbye to Jun-Ho giving my brother a small hug on his arm in goodbye, before he could hug back though I quickly left.

Later that day once I heard the both of them leave the house, I picked up my purse once again and dialed the given number.

“Do you wish to participate in the game? If you wish to participate, please state your name and birthdate…”

AN: AH OKAY THIS IS CHAPTER 1 what do ya’ll think? Too long? Too short? HOPE U ENJOY!! Stay tuned for chapter 2!!!!!

Yours truly

~ FandomObbsessedB

TAGLIST: @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @blacksnape123 @newtsniffles @missmollya

[primussavethesemechs]

I want the human/cybertronian life difference to be talked about more in canon

Cuz I mean. it’s RIGHT THERE.

Just a smidgen of true acknowledgment I BEG YOU HASBRO‼️

i mean come on all it takes is someone mentioning how long the wars been going for one of the humans to go “4 MILLION YEARS???? WHAT THE FUCK HOW OLD ARE YOU???”

And optimus or ratchet to be like “…5/7 million?” And all of the humans to have a break down CUZ WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUVE BEEN ALIVE SINCE BEFORE THE HUMAN SPECIES EXISTED??? WE WERE MONKEYS WHEN YOU WERE BORN???

And the (woefully uniformed) cybertronians to be like “??? What do YOU mean your species was still evolving when I onlined, how long do you guys live?? A thousand?? A few hundred??”

And the gobsmacked humans to be like “??? NO WE HARDLY LIVE OVER A HUNDRED ITS CONSIDERED AN ACCOMPLISHMENT?? AVERAGE OLD AGE DEATH IS LIKE MID 80s!! TECHNICALLY THE AVERAGE LIFE SPAN IS 72 OR SOMETHING???”

Cue the autobots being like “😨 72??? THATS A CHILD WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT⁉️”

the more attached/emotional bots looking at their charges and realizing that not only are they sparklings compared to them but they’ll die as sparklings too in just a few decades, causing them to straight up have a mini meltdown.

Yeah they’re in a war and they’ve lost plenty of friends, but never to anything as predictable and inescapable as old age.

It’s the seeing-it-coming part that gets to them, the slow dread of knowing that even if they do everything right and keep them out of danger and they stay healthy there’s nothing they can do to stop them from withering away in a couple of decades.

Most versions of bumblebee looking at their charge/friend and realizing his assumptions about the fact that since they’re both still young that they’ll have plenty of time to just. Live together and have fun- are wrong?? Immediately tears. Even if cybertronians can’t cry tears he’s doing whatever the equivalent is and running away to cry in his room. And then running back to snatch them and take them with him cuz HE CANT WASTE A SECOND IF THEIR LIFESPANS ARE REALLY THAT SHORT HES GONNA JUST HAVE TO SPEND 24/7 WITH THEM

This whole concept ESPECIALLY applies to TFP since all of them got their own little human buddy and there’s only like 5 autobots to begin with (of the main season 1 crew) they’ve lost so many of their own so recently, their numbers are already dwindling down to nothing, they’re losing the war and the kids are what’s given them a major morale boost. To continue fighting they need hope, and the kids have kind of become their hope for the future- to know they’ll die off in under a century despite how young they still are is a shot to the spark.

Look me in the eye and tell me bee wouldnt panic hearing that Raf only has 70-80 years to live. LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME HE WOULDNT HAVE SOME KIND OF FIT OVER BEING TOLD THAT HIS LITTLE BUDDY (from a cybertronian perspective) HAS A LIFESPAN EQUIVALENT TO A LATE STAGE TERMINAL ILLNESS DIAGNOSIS. Bee would start treating Raf like a kid with stage 4 cancer 😭

I just KNOW bulkhead would have the worst reaction other than bee, maybe even worse cuz he looks at miko and realizes she’s used up basically a fifth of her entire lifespan already and she’s Still So Little and straight up starts weeping. That’s his DAUGHTER you can’t take her from him so soon it’s not FAIR! He might have to go destroy a canyon wall or something to let some of the anger and grief out

Arcee is Not taking it well either.

She JUST got attached to this one, just got used to a new partner and your telling her that no matter what she does he’s never going to last as long as tailgate of cliff jumper did?? Even if both he and she do everything they’re supposed to do to protect him and extended his life?? Depression time baby

Optimus and ratchet don’t react as much outwardly to the news as the others but inside they’re both 💔💥

These kids have brought optimus a level of contentment he hasn’t felt in vorns, and he sees how bright their spirits shine- Only to now know those precious spirits will burn out in less than a century- it gnaws at him inside, yet another strike from the cruelty of fate

Ratchet is devastated but refuses to acknowledge it, these kids- yes even miko- have become his pseudo grandkids and he’s not ready, nor will he ever be ready, to outlive them. Jacks reminds him too much of a younger optimus, still learning and still hopeful. Miko is… well she has a fire to her that ratchet can appreciate (when she’s not actively annoying him) she’s determined enough to make anything happen which he does begrudgingly respect even if he wishes she wouldn’t just throw herself into any and every situation just for fun.

And Raf…

Raf is his apprentice, the only one of the kids to understand him and listen intently to his stories of cybertron. To show appreciation for his work and his ideas, to Listen and Learn and Improve his inventions. He harbors the most fondness for Raf since he sees so much potential in him, and has taken him under his wing in teaching him cybertronian language and biology.

He feels almost like he’s training a student to take his place- only for the ground to be ripped out from under him to know that Raf will never have the chance to succeed him, will never even outlive him.

A parent should never have to bury their child, and ratchet already feels that he has.

-

TLDR the autobots find out humans have fruit fly lifespans next to them and become one big soggy mess of tears, optimus and ratchet included although they try to have a stiff upper lip about it (and fail to varying extents)

I swear this was supposed to be about any and all continuities but TFP took over completely😭 idk it just fits the best since they focus so much on how attached the bots get to the kids

Edit: btw this was inspired from the fact I found out that the cybertronian equivalent to a year (yes I know technically they have solar cycles which are roughly a human year but what they consider a year vs their lifespan/time perception is different) is a vorn. A vorn is 80 HUMAN YEARS. I saw that and went “oh wow a vorn is like a whole human lifespan!😃” and then I went “OH A VORN IS A WHOLE HUMAN LIFESPAN 😀“

[afro-hispwriter]

Levi Ackerman x doctor!reader

Warnings- implications of child loss

Wc-796

-

“You shouldn’t be going,” Levi says for probably the tenth time. You were tightening the straps on your horse that was connecting to the wagon behind him. 

“You’ve said that.” You say. “We’re not even leaving the walls.” 

“And? Eren might-.”

“And if he does, you will be there to protect me.” Your hand rested on his cheek but he only frowned. “I'm the head doctor, my love, and also none of my subordinates wanted to risk their lives in the walls like this.” Levi raised his hand and grasped your hand and entwined your fingers. 

“We’re riding slow, I don’t care if it takes us a week.” 

“Aw Levi, you should know better than anyone that I don’t ride slow.” His cheeks turned pink. 

“Y/n, please.” 

“Okay fine.” You brought his hand to your mouth and kissed it softly. The voices of his squad made him pull back. He took the reins of the horse and held it steady. You slipped a boot through the stirrup and hoisted up on the horse. 

Levi called over the stableboy who had his horse in hand. He hopped on his horse and walked it beside yours. His squad then followed by mounting their horses.

“Any of you ride above walking the whole way there, you’re off the squad.” 

The Levi squad all raised their eyebrows and looked at each other in confusion. 

“Sir, may I ask why?” Eren asks looking back. All Levi did was stare back. 

“No.” 

-

Nightfall came and there were still at least a few more hours before you made it to the old scout headquarters. 

You grabbed a pole to the tent and fastened it to another. You were grabbing the tent fabric when Levi snatched it out of your hands.

“Hell are you doing brat? You should be sitting down.”

“Levi, I can’t sit and do nothing, it looks wrong to the others.” He rolls his eyes.

“Fuck what they think, you’re more important.” You sighed softly and placed a hand on his cheek. He grabbed your wrist and kissed the inside. 

“Go eat or drink something, please.” He says softly.

“I can’t, Levi.” He closed his eyes. 

“I know, I need to know.”

“Me too, tonight?” His face relaxed and a small smile appeared. 

“Tonight.” 

-

“Eld is in charge, me and Y/n will be back shortly.” Levi holds his arms out for you to loop your arm with. You gave them all a small wave before turning back to look forward. 

The Levi squad all turned to each other with more confusion.

Levi walked you away from their eyes and ears. He held your hand as you stepped over a log to sit on. He sat down right next to you, shoulder to shoulder. 

You dug into your back pocket and pulled out the folded letter then handed it to Levi.

“You open it.” He sucked in a deep breath and took the piece of paper. He started to unfold him when you stopped him by grabbing his wrist. “Levi?”

“Hmm?” He turned to look you in the eyes.

“Please know that I never have or will ever be mad at you for choosing me over our daughter.” Levi closed his eyes and leaned forward to press your foreheads together.

“No regrets.” 

“No regrets.” You pressed your lips to his cheek and his face warmed. He turned his head to look at the paper. He opened the paper and his eyes started scanning it. The beginning had some medical jargon on it that you understood. What you read made you freeze. 

The overall diagnosis was at the bottom.

Congratulations Miss Y/n L/n on your newfound pregnancy. Please return to Wall Sina Hospital as soon as possible to discuss the care plan. 

“Oh.” He says and folds the paper again. 

“Levi.” You say and place a hand flat on your belly. 

“Shh.” He drops to his knees softly into the wet grass. He rested his hands on your knees, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against yours. “This is a good thing, another chance.” He sat back on his heels slightly and grabbed the hand that you had on your belly. “You’re so perfect Y/n.” 

“B-But what if it happens again? What if I'm just not cut out to be a mother?” 

“Don’t say that, this is different.” 

“Levi, I can’t go through that again.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed.

“It’s not going to happen, we’ll do everything we can. I will. I promise. Nothing will take this away from you.” You bent down and knocked your foreheads together, Levi closed his eyes and smiled at the action.

“To us.” 

-

Likes, comments, or reblogs are greatly appreciated🫶🏾

[seireitonin]

“Toby/ other characters would be an abuser!1!” A talk on why that pisses me off

Hi. My name is Seirei. I don’t want to share super personal shit on the internet, but due to certain factors in my life I have BPD. (this is NOT self diagnosis. I have been to a professional and for now they think I have this due to certain trauma/ symptoms I’ve shown) This is part of the cluster B personality type. That being said Toby and many other creepypasta characters either canonically have ASPD/ BPD or it’s a generally accepted headcanon that they do. Now this in itself doesn’t bother me if it’s done well and with research. But the problem is most ppl just slap these labels onto them without doing the proper research. I’ve gotten multiple comments on my TikTok like “well I think Toby is an abuser bc he has ASPD/ BPD” I hate that. I hate that so much. You guys say it’s for “realism” but you’re just demonizing mental disorders. You’re demonizing people like me. In you having your “realism” youre hurting me and ppl in the cluster B personality type. ASPD/ BPD doesn’t instantly make you an abuser. These are personality disorders brought on trauma. Especially trauma with parents/ family. People with ASPD/ BPD know that we’re not well all the time. We’re suffering from disorders that affect our lives. From trauma/ experiences that we didn’t ask for. These are DISORDERS. These aren’t fake edgy illnesses that you can slap onto a character with no thought when you want them to be angsty. For example when ppl say “Toby would be an abuser/ not be capable of love because of his ASPD and he went through abuse in his past” not only are you taking away the depth of his character, you’re just straight up demonizing mental disorders. If you read his story, he loves his mom and sister so much. People with ASPD can love. But it does cause him to be obnoxious and rude. But this isn’t coming from a place of malice. He’s a traumatized man w a disorder! This isn’t me saying Toby can do no wrong and he’s 100% healthy. Toby definitely has issues and I’d never erase that. But to call him an abuser because he has ASPD is so gross and you’re just demonizing ASPD to be edgy without doing research on it or the cluster B personality type in general. As I said before, people with cluster B personality type KNOW we have disorders. We live with them every day. They affect our lives, our relationships, ourselves. We know that we fuck up and what we do isn’t healthy all the time. We KNOW. We’re not doing it because we’re “abusers” we’re suffering and hurting. Again this isn’t me saying that everyone with BPD/ ASPD is a good person who’s willing to do the work and grow. There are bad people with these disorders. But that doesn’t mean everyone who has them are instantly abusive. I’m not an abuser at all. Never have been and never will be. But BPD does affect me and the way I act that can come off as hurtful/ unhealthy and I KNOW THAT. Im always actively putting in the work to be better, like a lot of people with ASPD/ BPD. Just because we have these disorders doesn’t instantly mean we can’t change/ be better. Doesn’t mean we’re not humans with emotions/ trauma of our own. Toby obviously had to do some kind of inner work to be able to be with Clockwork the way kastoway portrayed them. (If it’s canon or not is irrelevant here)When you say shit like “Toby is abusive bc of ASPD/ BPD” that’s what you’re telling us you think of us. You see us and treat us like monsters but then talk about how much you love Toby/ other characters for having our very real disorder. ASPD/ BPD can be seen as two sides of the same coin. They have so many similarities but are shown in different ways. Do proper research before you talk about mental health because you’re stigmatizing/ demonizing disorders that are already looked down upon. Toby does canonically have ASPD and possibly BPD but it’s written into his character pretty well(as well as a 13 year old in the 2010s can do) and now that ppl are older we can actually analyze his character/story correctly. But Jeff and many other characters still aren’t getting this same treatment and they need it.Do better.

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

EMG normal, not done w tests but expect those be normal n even if not, it not explain things

which. normal EMG good thing, yea. have some scary ones on own ddx that this rule out.

people be relief n happy for me n expect me feel same but. don’t have time feel that because all that feel is dread.

dread because this my frail weak last mental defense against trauma & gaslighting & internalized gaslighting “there nothing wrong” “you want something wrong” “you just crazy (derogatory).” last thing keeping me going n trying.

dread that this will (& already has) be use against me. parents already imagine future where “am” in it but am not actually in—a year three years five years later, able bodied walking talking n living independent n “finally happy.” parents encouraged to force me walk use wheelchair less speak more. as someone already with no escape from them because still severely disabled with symptoms & high support needs even if no diagnosis (some diagnosis), who already feel trapped & suffocated & hopeless with no future or escape here before this. worry life going get so much worse.

they don’t understand autism here. don’t understand stereotypical autism don’t understand not-stereotypical autism it all same coin. here see self as ultra in “not-stereotypical autism” category because autism regression include nonverbal late in life. be diagnosed by top autism place in US not matter. it didn’t it doesn’t & it won’t. for people not born nonverbal they see two option: physical muscle or vocal cord issue or psychosomatic mental illness but derogatory. its “real” in sense they supposed say that but its not real. fact that am actually mentally ill just support that more.

wheelchair bad. nonverbal bad. AAC tablet bad. no one can imagine happy life with them except me.

n no one can understand or even try to understand that those actually not what make my life utterly miserable: not have support needs met, not have communication support needs met (give me enviroment that actually feel safe use AAC then maybe will actually communicate more goddamn it), be trapped physically, be trapped mentally by past abuse with people who did that to me who currently doing that to me, have NO COMMUNITY n that there never ever ever will be any community here in person for me so long as stay here. with no end in sight. unless make one for myself. which—too fucking disabled to do that except [redacted]. which. even that, am too severely disabled thus surveillanced to do that.

not to mention those actually one of very few thing in my life give me joy right now (other joy is fiber arts. ok end of list. everything else even stuff used to enjoy is fucking chore. n even fiber arts becoming more of past time & routine than active joy)—it the only fucking thing that giving me any sort of hint of community right now (n also literally allow me do basic function in life like go places but. DIGRESS). even if it fucking small & pathetic & ironically isolating (bc my god the ableism against us. but without community will just be pathetic & isolated ALL ALONE). to advocate take it away, it incredibly cruel.

everyone expect me be able bodied neurotypical walking talking live independent n it that my personal failure not able do that because there “no medical reason” (…still have life long diagnoses but those not good enough real enough for them), faker. n just lost last mental defense against that. so yeah guess am.

dread too for what doctor going say n recommend after all this. honestly more preferable discharge me & let me go back to old life tbh.

in perfect world there be symptom management with no diagnoses & no definitive test results, that focus on work with what got, when it unrealistic or not fucking worth it try turn life upside down make “back” into “normal.” but. mm such thing not exist.

want be treat with dignity & respect & believed & agency even when don’t know what wrong & negative tests.

[foreverdolly]

𝐈 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 |80's mechanic!austin x best friend!reader

summary: it's starting to look like he might never make it out of the friend zone. austin has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and he's terrified that you'll never see him as anything more than a best friend and protector. with the fear of you one day outgrowing him fresh on his mind, he's now hell bent on getting you to view him in a different light. madly in love and terrified to lose you, austin butler is playing for keeps.

pairings: 80s mechanic! austin x childhood best friend!reader

word count: 4.8k

notes/warnings: SMUT! in part two, virgin!austin. . . need i say more?, i love pining and this fic is testament to that, shaky/hurried hands, who doesn't love a good best friends to lovers fic, he has a deep southern accent, austin is the small town's metalhead and he's swelteringly hot without even trying. (this is going to have to be two parts because it turned out too long after editing. the smut alone is like. . . five pages on google docs.)

The incessant metallic clinging and loud mechanic whirs echoed against the cement flooring of the auto body garage. The sun was peeking just over the trees right outside the open garage doors, the spring sky slowly burning gold and pink. Most of the men were rushing to finish up with the vehicles that they were working on, eager to get home to their families after a long day of work. There was one mechanic though -who might be young, but made up for it with skill- was still elbow deep under the car’s hood, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. He’d only been looking at the car for five minutes and knew exactly what was wrong with it. The elderly woman had gotten her car towed all the way to Travis’ shop after the damn thing stalled out in the middle of the Winn-Dixie parking lot. The young mechanic could see her through the lobby’s windows watching him, her tiny wrinkly hands balled up into nervous fists.

“Aye- Austin?” Travis jogged right up to Austin, placing his hand down on one of the side mirrors as he waited for the diagnosis. 

“It’s not the engine. The transmission,” He pointed towards the old hunk of junk, leaning his head back under the hood to show his boss. “It’s completely shot. She said it will jerk when she accelerates and the wheel will sometimes shake when she’s goin’ fast enough. What’s happening is that it’s slippin’. The damn thing won’t stay in gear. This car is ten years out of date- I mean. . . It's a ‘74. So even if we order the parts-” 

“It’s gonna cost more to fix than it would be for her to just buy a whole new one.” The boss finished for him, sighing when he saw Austin nod his head in agreement. 

The long haired blonde blinked his eyes against the burning sunset, shooing a gnat away from his face as he leaned his hip against the car. He crossed one booted foot over the other as he waited patiently for the man to make a decision. While Travis enjoyed making money, Austin knew that the bastard was above stealing it from little old ladies. With a small huff of defeat the middle aged man began walking back in the direction of the lobby, most likely to break the bad news. He stopped just before he opened the door, pointing a quick finger-gun in Austin’s direction. 

“Are you comin’ over to Mark’s cookout tonight? You can bring your girl.” He called out over the loud noise. 

Austin shook his head before flashing the man a little face of distaste. 

“I’ve gotta go to my dad’s house to grab some of my old shit. Besides- I don’t have a girl to bring.” 

Travis shot him “a face” right back, but one of disbelief. “Yeah, right. A girl doesn’t just bring her friend a hand packed lunch every other day unless she was hopin’ for somethin’ to happen between them..” And before Austin could even defend himself the man was gone, sauntering solemnly over to the corner where the elderly woman was sitting. 

You weren’t the one that was hoping for a chance at romance, but Austin was. He’d rather die than admit it, but his co-workers' words lit a small fire in his chest; a hopeful pyre that didn’t dim. 

The wooden stairs were old and weather worn, the nails rusted with age. Austin always felt a sense of dread when he heard the familiar creaking under his feet, and the fact that he could hear the television droning on from inside of the trailer didn’t make it any better. It meant that he was home, and the blonde knew what that meant. A fight was sure to ensue, and after the shitty day that he had at work, that was the last thing that he wanted to endure. He found that the door was unlocked, per usual. The inhabitant of the rickety death trap didn’t have anything worth stealing. 

“Why are you here?” The middle aged man looked terrible for his age, though Austin blamed that on the endless supply of alcohol and drugs that ran through the man’s system. 

Austin cleared his throat, closing the door behind him with a grimace. He didn’t want to be here, but there were still a few boxes back in his old room that he needed to grab. After that he’d be gone for good, or at least that’s what he told himself anyway. His no-good father was used to relying on other people to save the day, one of those people being his own son. 

He blamed his strong sense of duties on the fact that he was raised in the deep south. “Being a man” was hammered into his skull from the moment of his very conception. Taking care of your family, especially when they are unable to do it for themselves, was considered a must. Austin had always hated his father. In fact, he couldn’t remember a single time in his life when he had felt gratitude or love in any magnitude towards his father. Still, he was a man and needed to provide for his family. . . right? He didn’t want anyone to think less of him for abandoning his father. More than anything, he didn’t want the wrong kind of gossip ending up in the wrong people’s ears.

What was important to him now was getting the hell away from his abusive father. He was old enough to start thinking about what he wanted for himself in the future. He’d always craved companionship with a certain person. . . children were on his radar too. The last thing he wanted was for his druggie father to be in his own kid’s lives. 

The lanky man didn’t fit in the small home anymore, and he hadn’t for years. Both physically and emotionally, he had outgrown his prison many moons ago. He took a few seconds to look around the living room. Now that he wasn’t there to clean up after the grotesque man, the house smelled absolutely putrid. Austin’s nose wrinkled in disgust, eyes dancing along the empty beer cans and overflowing sink. 

“Jus’ gettin’ the last of my stuff.” Austin grumbled, his bulky black boots sticking to the dirty linoleum floors as he tried his best to breeze past the older man’s old recliner. 

A hand reached out, gripping at his wrist to stop him. Austin looked down, the muscles in his sharp jaw clicking as he held back the urge to rip himself out of the man’s reach. He knew that he was too big for the man to intimidate now, but his body still remembered the pain his father had put him through as a kid. 

“Ya talkin’ bout that toolbox?” The man’s voice was gravely, all thanks to the menthols he religiously smoked. Austin could smell the Miller Light and smoke coming off of him now. It was nauseating. 

The blonde ripped his eyes off of the man’s face, peeking off down the hall to see his old bedroom door wide open. He had locked it from the inside and crawled out the window the last time that he was here, taking the spare key with him. It was still tucked away safely in his wallet. His breathing stuttered when he realized that the doorknob had been taken off completely. 

“I need it for work. What did you do with it?” Austin tried to school the deep southern accent out of his voice. He got into the habit of doing that around his father from a young age, desperately wanting to seem as different from the old man as possible. 

“If that’s what yer here for, don’ bother. I sold it.” The young adult’s heart sank to his ass, and this time he didn’t hesitate in ripping his wrist out of the man’s hand. 

“To who? Where is it?” Austin questioned heatedly, staring daggers into the old man’s face. 

The sandy haired man was staring back at the television now, watching old reruns of some shitty old Western movie that must have come out in the sixties. He didn’t answer Austin, too drunk to care and too high to listen. 

“Dad!” Austin’s deep voice boomed, echoing around the filthy trailer. “Where the fuck did you take it? The pawn shop off’a Assembly Street?” That was where his father often sold stolen shit for a few extra bucks. 

That got the other man’s attention. He didn’t take kindly to being yelled and cursed at, especially not by his son. He could always deal it out, but refused to take it. Ray Butler had stopped beating on his son during his Junior year in highschool though, realizing that the boy was now bigger than him. Out of a cowardly fear for his own safety, he stuck to the emotional abuse instead, which only got worse once he didn’t have a true outlet for his frustrations. Austin bristled as he watched the old man glare up at him, taking a long swig from his beer before answering. 

“I took it to Keith’s. If ya needed it so bad, why the hell didn’t you take it with ya in the first place? It’s in my house, so I can do whatever the fuck I want with it.” It was surprising how coherent the man was, especially since he must have been drinking all day long. 

Austin’s father hadn’t had a job in the last seven years, but still managed to scrape by somehow. He was a petty thief whose criminal record stretched all the way back into his boyhood. He had raised the blonde to be the exact same way, but the only thing Austin had truly adopted from his “teachings” was a shared hatred for cops and a scrappy sort of resourcefulness. The other kids that he was forced to interact with at school were the ones that taught him how to fight. They enjoyed taking turns trying to beat the shit out of the town’s poor kid, but once he finally hit his growth spurt in the summer after sixth grade the roles were largely reversed. Nobody messed with him by the time that he had entered high school. He was feared by his peers and just as hated. 

The negative image that he had created served him well though. Not only had he made a name for himself, he had also gained the ability to protect his best friend, which was the only thing he really cared about. Getting the dog shit knocked out of him was one thing, but seeing boys and girls teasing her was a different story. He remembered storming into the girl’s bathroom during his junior year very vividly, yanking up one of popular blonde’s by the back of her shirt. 

“I’m a Butler, so don’t think that I’m above hittin’ a girl.” 

He’d constantly ask you if the bullying persisted even after that, but you always went out of your way to tell him that they had stopped their teasing. Austin was made fun of because he lived in a trailer that should have been condemned long since they originally moved in and barely had enough money to get school supplies every year, but you were picked on because you were perfect. It didn’t make any sense to him, but girls are strange creatures. You made good grades, was the nicest person he had ever met without even trying, and your natural good looks made matters even worse for you. Getting the mean girls to steer clear of you wasn’t the hard part, but keeping the male pervert’s away was an entirely different story. 

It didn’t help that after a long day of putting up with the constant glares, rumors, and telling boys to back off, he’d be forced to come home to incessant tongue lashings. He barely had time to study after taking care of the forty year old drunkard, hence his rotten grades in school. You could only do his homework for him so many times, but hey- you tried. He graduated because of you, at the very least. 

He had landed a job as a mechanic straight out of high school, having been skilled for his age. Who knew that driving a shitty lemon of a car that he constantly had to fix up would lead to a career? He had gotten lucky, which was a rarity in his life. 

Getting his own place was one hell of an achievement, but his past always found a way to come back and haunt him. 

Austin stormed through the connected kitchen and down the hall, sucking in a deep breath before he entered the room. All of the boxes that he had stacked in the corner had been ransacked and picked clean. It was Austin’s fault for thinking that a simple locked door would keep his father out. The blonde could scream over his stolen Iron Maiden and Dio tapes later, for now he needed to focus on the important thing: his tools. 

“You sold them to your crackhead dealer? For what? A bag, right? That was over a hundred dollars worth’a tools!” He screamed from the backroom, kicking an old wooden chair that had been junking up his old room for ages. The thing went flying, hitting the opposite wall with a resounding cracking noise. 

Austin was covered in car oil, smelled like gasoline and sweat after a long day of work, and all he had wanted was to slip in the trailer undetected and grab his things. He had hoped that his father would have been passed out in his room by now so that he could have been in and out without being forced to converse. Nothing ever seemed to go his way. The blonde reached for the metal baseball bat that he still had stuffed under his childhood bed, knocking it against his boot a few times before storming out of the room, pushing past his father and heading straight for the front door. 

“Austin, wait,” The male knew what was coming. The only time his father ever referred to him by his name was when he wanted something. “Can you give me twenty dollars? I need’a pay the power.” 

The baseball bat felt heavy in his hand. He balanced the weight for a second, his jaw clicking as he imagined just how good it would feel to bring it down on top of the other man’s head. If Ray ended up dead, he was sure that he could blame it on a handful of people who he had stolen from or cheated. Austin didn’t need that on his conscience though. So instead of barking back a reply or even pulling out his wallet, he yanked his hand away with a grunt, storming out the door. 

“Jus’ use the money that you got from sellin’ all’a my shit.” He called out before slamming the door behind him, the small and dingy diamond shaped window vibrating with the force of his anger. 

“Is your mama home? If not then I’m gonna use your shower.” Austin gently pushed his way into the house, kicking off his dirty work boots before bounding up the familiar carpeted stairs. 

You blinked in the entryway, slowly closing the front door before turning around to watch him go, the chain from his wallet jingling with his movement. With a small sigh you locked it behind you, following up after him. 

“Well hello to you too.” You teased, watching him open up the linen closet so that he could grab a towel. He was caked with grease, his sun kissed cheeks speckled with black and gray. His black work shirt fit snugly on his form, having shrunk in the wash. At his hip, swinging around with every step that he took, was his black handkerchief. It was also wrecked with engine grease, having been used to clean his hands one too many times that day. He looked devilishly handsome, but he always did. Nothing new. 

“Sorry. Really bad day. Just got back from Keith’s place- he had some of the shit that I left at my dad’s.” He left the bathroom door open as he slipped off his socks, then hurriedly took his shirt off and threw that into the dirty clothes hamper. His small apartment didn’t have a washer and dryer hookup, so he had been doing his laundry at your place for the last two months. 

You didn’t mind, and your mother and father hadn’t noticed either. You sucked at your teeth, turning around to give him privacy. You heard the shower turn on, then the familiar clanking of his chain wallet hitting the side of the sink. Once you heard the shower curtain open and close you turned around, seeing the room empty, his dirty clothes piled neatly in the hamper. You closed the bathroom door behind you as you stepped inside, jumping up on the counter so that you could swing your legs back and forth as you spoke. He seemed frustrated, and you could tell that he needed to talk about it. 

Growing up in a tragically tiny town meant that everybody was always in each other’s business. From preschool to your senior year in high school, every moment was spent with the same exact children. You could count the newer families to move into the small community over the last five years on one hand. Life was slow moving in the old south, and things were horrifically monotonous. You and the blonde had been stuck together like glue ever since primary school, and you didn’t see it changing in the future. 

To say that you knew Austin like the back of your hand was an understatement. Every flaw, quirk and triumph had either been discovered by you, with you at his side, or involved you in some way. In a town filled with mostly elderly folks, kids often found a group of likeminded people and stuck with them for the entirety of their lives. It was horribly predictable of the two of you, yet here you two were, connected at the hip. The bond between you and Austin went above just being best friends. It was something tied to your soul. It wasn’t just hard to imagine a life without him in it, rather it was impossible. 

He didn’t have to tell you that he was angry for you to know that he was beyond aggravated. The restlessness was plain to see. Whether he would be upfront and tell you about the reason or not, you could tell that he needed someone to just sit and listen. Austin wasn’t the kind of person to talk in depth about the things that really upset him. He was more of the “suffer in silence until I inevitably blow up” type. You, on the other hand, weren’t afraid to whine and cry to him about even the slightest of inconveniences. The two of you were polar opposites, and yet it just worked. 

“Keith let you in the house?” You asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow as you watched the steam beginning to curl up and over the curtain. 

Austin let out a humorless laugh, and you could imagine him shaking his head back and forth. You smiled despite the situation, bringing your hand up to your mouth so that you could bite down on your thumb nail. You instantly regretted it, pulling away to see that you had already chipped your freshly painted fingers. 

“A’course he didn’t. I broke into the fucker’s place. Got my tool box back, but the damn thing had been ransacked already. The bones picked clean. I’m out over fifty dollars in tools- checked it once I got back into the car.” 

“Jesus- did he see you? That guy is absolutely insane.” Thankfully, you’d only met the man in passing a handful of times. He was the crazy townee that everybody knew and feared. Keith was the kind of person that you point out to your developing teens to scare them away from drugs and alcohol. “If you don’t want to end up like Ole’ Keith, you better not touch that stuff.” He had a bunch of handmade signs outside of his house with bible scriptures on them, meanwhile the man was dealing meth and coke to make a living. As was the deep south, filled to the brim with religious and moral hypocrisies. 

Either you were a devout Christian or just another local crackhead. Thankfully, you and Austin didn’t fall into either of those categories. You seemed to have made one of your own over the years. 

“He wasn’t home. His truck was gone. The dude left his bedroom window unlocked, so I just ripped the screen off.” 

You used to worry for Austin on a daily basis. The burns and bruises he’d come to school with broke your heart, but no matter how many times you begged your parents to let the blonde come and live with you, they always let you down. You were happy that he finally had somewhere safe to lay his head at night, though he still hadn’t broken the habit of spending most of his down time with you (and you prayed he wouldn’t ever grow out of that habit). As soon as he got off work he was making his way up to your bedroom, often dead tired down to his bones or pissed off. Your parents were gone most of the time anyway though. Your father was a hotshot business man who was away for work most of the time, and your mother insisted on following along with him after the “incident” that happened when you were twelve.

Men who spend most days without their wives and children breathing down their neck usually take advantage of the opportunity. Your father was no different. He was no saint. Then again, neither was your mother. She took most of her frustration out on you after that, and though you knew that her outbursts weren’t a direct cause of anything that you had personally done, that didn’t make it any better. 

Austin was just as much your therapist as you were his. Maybe that was the cause for your codependency. . . either way, neither of you regretted it. It only strengthened the bond, really. 

After Austin was showered and dressed in an outfit that he had left at your house some weeks ago, the two of you found yourselves sprawled out on your bed. You were busy finishing up some homework for one of your classes, and he was reading one of your magazines. He had his head hanging off the side of the mattress, ankles crossed up on one of your pillows. His wet hair was dripping onto your floor. The constant droplets hitting your outdated shag carpet lulled the two of you into a comfortable silence. The two of you didn’t need to talk 

“Where’s a newer one? This one’s a year old.” He suddenly dropped what he was reading onto the floor next to his head, sitting up so that he could face you again. 

You scrunched up your nose, dropping your psychology textbook beside you. 

“That is the newer one.” You told him, to which he scooped it up and off of the floor, turning it over and pointing at the date. 

He was right. It was old. 

It was the June twenty-first issue, the date clear to see on the front: nineteen eighty-four. Bob Dylan was posed on the front in all of his tambourine-man glory. 

“Shit. Sorry, Aus. I thought I handed you the Beatles Anniversary edition.” You started to stand up, but he waved you off. 

“I should probably get going anyway. I have to try to cook myself something. If I don’t eat now then I’ll jus’ go to bed hungry.” 

You had hoped that the two of you could order pizza tonight, but you kept your mouth shut. Lately you found yourself clinging to him a little bit harder than usual. Maybe it was the stress of your sophomore year in college, but you couldn’t be certain. You tried to school the disappointment off of your face as you nodded, standing up to walk him back to the front door. 

“Are we still driving down to see Dave’s show? His band sucks, but he’ll be disappointed if we miss it.” He asked you at the front door, shoving his sock clad feet into his work boots and tying them up haphazardly. 

You slapped your forehead with the palm of your hand, eyes wide. You’d completely forgotten about your friend’s show tomorrow. You’d planned to stay after class and study in the library, but you didn’t mind cramming for next week's test. Austin laughed, the sound causing you to smile to yourself. His laugh was deep, rich and completely contagious. He reached out, his large hand wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your face. 

“You forgot, didn’t you?” He leaned down so that he was at your height, his smile practically blinding. 

You sucked in a breath, but nodded your head anyway. It was hard not to notice his beauty in moments like this. He’d always been handsome, but lately you’d been looking a little too closely at that. A sick twinge of guilt soured your stomach, a feeling of what could only be categorized as “betrayal” causing your face to flush. He was your best friend, and if he knew that you were looking at him like that he would probably be disgusted with you. Hell, you were horrified by your own thoughts recently. You tried to blame the odd feelings on your long-standing lack of romance, but you were starting to believe that was just an excuse.

“I completely forgot.” And you felt bad about it. You’d been so busy with your school work, the recent fight that you had with your mother and. . . well. . . Austin. You cleared your throat softly, kicking at an imaginary pebble on the tiled floor to try and distract yourself. 

Austin seemed to notice the change in attitude and put his hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair in the way that he knew you despised. He chuckled when you slapped his hand away, instead moving his hand to the base of your neck so that he could pull your much smaller form against his in a tight hug. He’d always been lean and tall, but his physically demanding job had caused his muscles to fill out. He felt warm and strong, smelling of your shampoo. 

“I’ll drive us tomorrow, alright? Maybe you can get some studying done in the car.” And with that he removed his arms from around you. 

You felt the loss of his warmth like a slap in the face. You let him go though, watching as he bounded down the steps towards his van, his keys jingling in his hand with the movement. He was in higher spirits after spending a few hours in your presence. He felt lighter, like some of the crushing weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. You leaned against the doorframe, peeking your head out just to watch him. 

“I love you! Drive home safe, alright?” You called out. 

Austin couldn’t fight off the blush that raised to his ears, but he turned around and quickly returned the sentiment. You had told him that you loved him every day, but his heart still pounded like it had the very first time. Only these days he wished that you really meant it. 

That you loved him the same way that he loved you. 

[natashaslesbian]

We Saved Each Other (Part Seven)

Summary: Your mom starts to notice some differences in your behaviour and she’s not the only one. With the help of Maria and Clint they figure out the next steps

Word Count: 1.9k

Parings: (Natasha x Daughter!Reader) (Natasha x Clint) (Natasha x Maria)

Warnings: Crying, panic attacks, talks of autism symptoms/diagnosis (written from personal experience with my own autism)

————

A week ago, you and Natasha moved into Clint’s barn. It had been recently refurbished so it was the perfect place for you and your mom to take residency in. There was a cozy fireplace in the living room and the windows held a beautiful view of the wide fields. Although you were excited to have your new mommy and be living next door to your uncle, auntie and cousins, you were having a hard time settling in. Natasha was starting to notice some differences in your behaviour, the way you reacted to light and sounds and the subtle ways you were a little different to Lila. The young Barton was the only example Nat had of a normal upbringing for a child and in the months you’ve been with her it was obvious you weren’t developing in the same way. Natasha just thought it was your red room upbringing, they didn’t exactly care about the well being of their widows.

The interruption to your routine once again had Natasha’s suspicions on high alert. You were seeming to thrive at the tower but this big change was taking its toll on you. It was yet another restless night for you both, you were again taking residence in your mamas bedroom. “Come on sweetheart, just close those pretty eyes and I’m sure you’ll be asleep before you know it” Natasha whispered “I don’t like the sheets mommy” you whined. Your mom had brought seven different sets of bedsheets by now, both for your bed and her own, but you seemed to hate them all. “I know baby, I promise I’ll go and get our old ones in the morning” Natasha said as she gently stroked your head. You were desperate for your old bedsheets, they were so soft and comfy, they felt like heaven. You continued to fidget a little longer until the exhaustion finally caught up with you and you finally fell asleep.

Breakfast was the next mountain to climb, there had been no time to grocery shop so the cupboards were filled with little to nothing from the Barton’s pantry. Every morning you had coco pops, but since moving in all there had been were cornflakes and you hated them. They went soggy in the milk and got stuck all around your teeth. Natasha has tried to offer you other alternates including pop tarts but all you wanted were your coco pops. “You won’t grow big and strong if you don’t eat your breakfast y/n” Natasha cooed in the hopes today would be the day you would actually eat the cornflakes (or anything else for that matter). “I don’t like it” you mumbled as your eyes became watery “oh sweetheart don’t cry” Natasha said as she came to your side “how about mommy takes a trip to the store after I pick up our sheets okay?” She suggested “yes please” you said.

You begged Natasha to take you with her to the tower, you couldn’t bare to leave her side. Your mom explained that there was work being done and it would most likely be very busy but still, you refused to let go of her as she tried to pass you into Clint’s waiting arms. “I think I’m just gonna have to take her with me” Nat sighed as she adjusted you on her hip. “You need a ride?” Clint asked “yeah that’d be great actually” Natasha smiled, grateful for the extra pair of hands. You fell asleep during the journey, giving your mom a few minuets to finally get a little rest of her own. “Somethings wrong Clint I can feel it” the redhead muttered as she looked down at your sleeping form. “Is she sick?” Clint politely asked, “no, no something else is wrong” Nat sighed “it’s something else, I just don’t know what”

As soon as Natasha stepped foot in the tower you bolted awake as the sound of drills invaded your head. You cried loudly into your mamas neck and wrapped your hands tightly around your ears. “Shhh sweetheart it’s okay it’s just some construction work remember” Nat cooed in an attempt to calm you down. “Let’s get up to your room” Clint suggested, leading you both quickly to the elevator. You calmed slightly when the doors finally shut, opening your eyes to blink up at your mama. “See you’re okay baby” she whispered. When the three of you arrived at your desired floor, it was apparent that the work being done wasn’t just confined to the lobby. You shrieked at the sudden appearance of hundreds of workers, all of them men and racing past you in every direction.

You squirmed out of Natasha’s hold and crashed to the floor in a panic. “It’s alright y/n, come on let’s go get our things” Nat said as she crouched down to lift you back up. “No!” You yelled as hands attempted to pick you up off the floor. You found your feet and they took you running through the forest of tall legs around you. “Y/n!” Natasha called after you, the fear of loosing you setting in quickly. She began to run after you, swiftly followed by Clint. The two bumped into every worker as they tried to keep their eyes on you but soon enough you were out of eyes reach. “Y/n!” Natasha called again, throwing a builder to the floor as he crossed her path. She came to an abrupt stop as the crowd around her dispersed and she was met with the many hallways leading to different parts of the tower.

Clint came crashing into Nats side and managed to stop them both from hitting the floor. “Natasha take a deep breath” he said as she met the widows eyes “she can’t have gone far we’ll find her” he assured. “Clin- Clint” Natasha stammered “I can’t- breath- Clint” she mumbled as she tried to take a breath. “Natasha, hey, look at me, you need to breath for me, like this ok” Clint said as he began to take deep breaths encouraging Nat to do the same. The red head didn’t know what was happening to her, sure she’d had many panic attacks and breakdowns before but they had never been this bad. By now, Clint had learned how to best help his friend when these moments arose, he led Natasha a few feet down one of the several hallways where it was slightly quieter.

Nat pressed her back against the wall and gently slid down to the floor. “Natasha” Clint said as he crouched done next to the redhead “deep breaths okay, in and out, you’ve done it before you can do it again” he calmly spoke. Natasha was just starting to regain control of her breath when Maria came running down the hall “Romanoff” she called, the widow immediately turning off her emotions when the agent appeared “it’s y/n she’s in your guys room” Maria said, out of breath from her small jog. Natasha didn’t waste a second as she stood to her feet and sprinted wildly down the corridor. She almost crashed into the door but managed to stop herself before she could burst in and scare you even more. “I’ll be here” Clint said from a few doors down, giving Natasha the space to comfort you.

“Y/n baby” Natasha quietly called as she slowly pushed open the door “are you in here?” You peaked your head out from under the covers when you heard your mothers voice. Her eyes landed on yours and she softly walked over to the bed “what happened sweetheart, did you get scared?” Natasha asked, you nodded your little head as you reached out to your mom “too loud mommy” you whimpered. Natasha didn’t hesitate for a moment as she came to scoop you up into her arms “oh baby I’m sorry, I should’ve known it might upset you.” She cooed as she wrapped you up in her embrace. You let our soft whimpers as your mama gently rocked you, the motion slowly lulling you to sleep. “You have a nap baby girl, I’ll get us home okay” Natasha whispered.

A soft knock on the door brought Nat back to reality “come in” she quietly said. “How is she?” Clint asked as he peered around the door “asleep, the noise scared her I think” Natasha said. “Can I talk to you? Can we talk to you?” Clint said, pushing the door wider to reveal Maria stood beside him. “What’s wrong?” Natasha said in a fearful tone “nothings wrong I promise, it’s just, well we wanted to talk to you about y/n. About maybe getting her tested for a learning disability” Clint said. “What” Natasha said, gritting her teeth. She gently placed you down between the sheets and ushered the two agents outside. “What the hell are you talking about?” She said frustratedly. “Well” Clint began “this morning in the car when you were saying that you thought something was wrong with her” he said “I didn’t say something was wrong with her” Natasha cut him off “she’s not stupid” she bit at the pair. “No ones saying she is” Maria said “she might just have some different needs” she finished.

“Are you calling my daughter special needs Hill?” Natasha questioned angrily. “Natasha calm down we’re just trying to help, we’re concerned and I know you are too” Clint said. “I guess she is different I just- figured it was because of the red room” Natasha said sadly “but it’s not is it” she sighed. There was a moments pause before Maria spoke up again. “I noticed a few things when we were at the store a few weeks ago, when she got lost. And Clint said he’s noticed some stuff to” she said. Clint cleared his throat “she obviously doesn’t like loud noises and crowds are defiantly an issue for her” he said “there’s other things as well like her delayed speech and her reaction to light. I’m worried it might be autism” he finished. “Autism” Natasha questioned. She had heard of it before but remained unsure of what it actually looked like, if any girls at the red room where found to have any kind of disability they were executed.

“So what do we do?” Nat asked, all she wanted to do was keep you safe so although the circumstances made her nervous she knew she would do whatever it takes to help you. “We can get a shield professional to asses her” Maria said “they’ll look at her behaviour over a period of time and then make a diagnosis” Natasha let out a nervous sigh “okay” she whispered. “Whatever happens we’ll be here for her, and you” Clint said. “Will they take her away from me?” Natasha asked, keeping her tears at bay. “No of course not” Maria said “Natasha it’s not your fault” she continued when she realised the root of Nat’s worry. “Hey look at me” Clint said “nothing will ever change the fact that she’s your daughter. This will just allow us to help her.” He said. “Okay” the redhead sighed “I’ll set everything up” Maria smiled, excusing herself to get back to work. “Why don’t I take you both home” Clint said.

The journey back felt longer than usual. You stayed soundly asleep in your mamas lap as she gazed down at you with love. Natasha was battling with the thousand thoughts racing through her head. Would people look at you different if you had a learning disability and how would you cope with another issue on top of the mountain of ones you already had. The widow pulled you closer into her chest as you began to squirm “shhhhh you’re okay, mamas here baby” she cooed. “Mommy” you whispered “bad dream” you whimpered. “I’m sorry sweetie. Mommy’s here okay. I’ll always protect you” Natasha said as she gently kissed your forehead. She meant every word, she would always and forever look out for you.

————

Finally the next part of WSEO is here! Sorry it’s been so long🩷

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut t / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

[glitter-stained]

I know you probably aren't familiar with the character, but thinking about DC and mental health and John Constantine.

Hellblazer comics lead, magician, con man, seriously messed up life.

I'm pretty sure he's the only (semi) heroic DC character who is explicitly shown with the 'ugly' kind of mental illness, and has spent time in a mental hospital as a patient.

Constantine's backstory involves an exorcism attempt by teenaged Constantine and friends horribly backfiring. What regular people see is Constantine stumbling out of a house full of corpses, holding a little girl's severed arm and babbling frantically about demons and hell.

Obviously he gets railroaded as responsible for all the deaths, and ends up in Ravenscar hospital - basically Arkham in UK, only more tough to escape from.

There's a lot of scenes where he is treated horribly - beaten up by guards, the doctors ignoring his injuries, unnecessary drugging, all that. Everyone feels he deserves it, because as far as they know, he murdered half a dozen people, including a five year old.

Even Constantine, talking in retrospect, feels he deserved all that - though in his case it's because he made a horribly wrong decision while sane, and caused the kid to be dragged to hell.

The actual diagnosis is never stated, but he is clinically insane for at least a while - apparently as the result of the mindbreaking trauma that happened during the botched exorcism.

There's a couple of incidents where he's basically dragged out of the hospital (usually by bad guys) to deal with some magical crisis or the other, all the while protesting that he is not okay, that he needs the meds, needs the hospital.

And when he is released from the hospital to an outpatient program basically for cost cutting than because he was better, he is shown begging to be let back in. A lot of his issues stem from not getting the help when it was needed - and that, given his power, lead to worse decisions and spirals.

There's a lot of fics which have Constantine involved with the Batfamily. Haven't seen one go into the premise, but the potential... His attitude towards Arkham or the Rogues... Towards how mentally ill dangerous criminals are treated, given he himself was in the role of the mentally ill dangerous criminal once...

I am in fact familiar with Constantine's character, rest assured his ass is sitting patiently in my waiting room for when I'm finished with Jason, Cass and probably Mia. Yeah, the waiting room's a little bit crowded btw, we're not taking any admissions for the moment.

[pr3ttylittleslutt]

TW: depression, SH, SA, ED, shitty ppl, suicidal ideation?

Being depressed with a hypocritical ass family is so weird. I’ve been depressed since i was 12 and only recently got diagnosed, all those years it’s “ur being lazy” “ur rude and disrespectful” “ur wicked” “ur dramatic”, but all of sudden it’s “omg I always knew something was wrong” girl Ill bitch slap u all the way to fucking Africa dont play wit me. The amount of times yall degraded me and making me believe I’m the worst person to walk this earth is ridiculous if u ‘always knew something was going with me’, you don’t tell a 13 year old whose by the way going thru puberty and learning to deal with her emotions that she’s ‘a burden’ or ‘too much to handle’ thats so wrong. I remember the first time I self harmed, I was so overwhelmed and when I blew up yelling n fucking screaming u would want to tell me “your a child what the fuck do u have going on to be depressed or have anxiety” have u not been a teenager? When I told u what the fuck was going on ur response to me was “how was I supposed to know that if u never told me” BUT I DID THO WHEN I WOULD REFUSE TO INTERACT WITH THE PPL INVOLVED? WHEN I WOULD SHUT DPWN EVERYTIME I WAS AT THE PLACE. But it’s not only that YOU FUCKING LIVED WITH ME HOW TF DID U MISS THAT????? When I finally admitted I was sexually assaulted for the first time when I was 6 for 2 years YOU DID NOTHING. All u did was cry to make me feel like u cared but he never went to jail. He is walking free as we speak. He is still allowed to interact with me and other little girls. WHYYYYYYYYYYY. When I told you ur friends kids were threatening to rape me when I was 10 YOU DID NOTHING. When I told u my cousin was blackmailing me to have sex with him IM THE ONE WHO GOT PUNISHED WHYYYYYYYYYY? When I told u ur boyfriend is asking me to send him pics in ur lingerie at 15 fucking years old u never spoke to him? And I’m supposed to be grateful for him? Im supposed to do shit for him? Im supposed to hang out with him like nothing ever happened? Ur a fucking hypocritic. U would hit me when I ate more food than usual I WAS A GROWING CHILD ITS A NORMAL FUCKING THING instead u made me have an unhealthy relationship with food. At 10 years old I stared starving myself NO 10 YEAR OLD NEEDS TO EXPERIENCE THAT. I STARTIED CUTTING MY SELF AT 12 EXCUSES MEEEEEEE?And when u found out ur reaction is “why are u doing that? Stop it”, hell my first suicide attempt I was fucking 11 but u didn’t know right? And when all the sadness turned into rage ur fav thing to do was berate me for being “a miserable angsty teen” “ur being rude” maybe if u paid enough attention it would have to get to that point. All the signs were there but u all ignored them. And after all that n I go out of my way to get my diagnosis Yall wanna act all sympathetic in my face y’all are fucking hypocriticals and that’s why I don’t like going to see y’all. At the of the day I was the child you were the adult. U should’ve known better. Go fuck yourself.

Sorry