#does blood pressure 911 work

[wildlife4life]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by the lovely @exhuastedpigeon, @hippolotamus @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @jeeyuns @hoodie-buck @theotherbuckley and @ladydorian05 Thank you all so much!

I am in a very generous mood today, so for this tidbit Tuesday I am sharing several teases from different wips. Enjoy!

NFL Buck: Athena hits the intercom above the code box, taking note of cameras that swivel slightly towards her way. A deep voice seeped with weariness comes through the speaker, "What can I do for you officer?"

In the back seat of her cruiser, Eddie immediately perks up and cries out, "Buck! She arrested me and I don't like it and I swear those tiny humans put her up to it! But I didn't do it! I swear!"

4+1 Buck is too nice: Eddie is actually contemplating stealing Bobby's nice knife set away from the firehouse. Stolen knives for Eddie's stolen boyfriend. Seems fair. Sort of.

When in reality Eddie more than understands. Athena is working, Bobby is covering for Captain Royce, and trying to get any sort of non-familiar (free) transportation from LAX was a disservice to May.

Kidnapped Mpreg Buck: Eddie grips his tiny newborn daughter tight to his chest. Its too quiet. Buck is silent, no longer screaming in agony. Their baby has gone quiet after her first cries. Doug will never make a sound again, lying dead by the fireplace. He can barely hear Hen muttering under her breath, pumping her fist hard over Buck's chest. Chimney hasn't said a word since announcing the loss of Buck's heart beat, frantically working to try and stop the omega from bleeding out. And Maddie...is slumped against the wall near the bed where her brother lays dying, covered in blood from Doug, herself, and Buck. Catatonic. Quiet. Too quiet.

Parental Chimney w/ Teen Buddie: Chimney does a double take when he see's Eddie standing just a step inside the bay doors. The older teen is wringing his hands together, looking nervous and very lost.

Tapping Hen on the shoulder, he motions towards the kid and Hen nods in understanding. "Yell if you need back-up." She jokes somewhat serious.

Chimney rolls his eyes, "Doubt he's here to cause harm."

Hen shrugs, "Your new to this parenting thing, and so am I, so asking for help won't hurt." She glances over to Eddie, "Just don't be too hard on him. From my understanding, kids been through enough and losing Buck must feel like rock bottom."

Return of sperm donor kid: “Carson, Connor is your dad, okay?  I just-well-um” Buck was floundering to find the right way to explain to a beginning 5th grader how sperm donation works. 

“He’s not my dad! I heard my mom say so!” Connor shouted, anger and frustration starting to take over.

Buck raised his hands up in gentle defense, “Okay. Okay.  Let’s just,” He sighs in frustration, looking upwards.  Buck didn’t really pray, but he did believe in the universe and Eddie would be his entire paycheck that he was cursing it right now. “I’m calling your parents.”

Carson opened his mouth to object, but Buck immediately cut him off, “I am calling your parents, and that includes your dad, the same man who has fed you, clothed you, LOVED you since the day you were born. I am calling them and then we are all going to sit down and talk. Understand?”

Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @bekkachaos @prosperdemeter2 @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @elvensorceress @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @devirnis @eddiebabygirldiaz @loserdiaz @spaceprincessem @thekristen999 @lizzybizzyzzz @homerforsure @sibylsleaves @spagheddiediaz @try-set-me-on-fire @monsterrae1 @lover-of-mine @rogerzsteven @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @911onabc @911-on-abc @cowboydiazes @vampbuckley @brokenribsdiaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @arthursdent @glorious-spoon @buddierights @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @gayhoediaz @gayedmundodiaz

[thewolvesof1998]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @spotsandsocks @alyxmastershipper @wildlife4life @wikiangela @loserdiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @mangacat201

Here's part 3 of my heatwave fic, Part 1, Part 2 (by the way this is seven sentences 😂 I might need to work on sentence length)

His jaw doesn’t drop in shock but it’s a close thing, “What?” “I feel like we’ve been dancing around each other for months, if not years, and tell me if I’m reading this wrong, but I really want you to touch me and I think you want to touch me too,” Buck’s rambling now, like he does when he gets nervous, “I mean, I want to kiss you too, like a lot but, gods Eddie I can’t stop think about your hands, I just need you to touch me.” Eddie's hand is on Buck before he can really think it through, he’s pretty sure he aimed for his usual shoulder squeeze but his brain short circuit between deciding to move and reaching Buck and now his hand is on his peck and by god it takes everything in him not to squeeze.  Eddie can’t look away from his hand, lines of black ink peaking in between splayed fingers, heat is radiating off of Buck, his skin slick with sweat, mixing with coarse chest hair to create sensations that Eddie’s never experienced before, something he never knew he wanted to experience before Buck. His hand slides down until his fingers brush against Buck’s pink nipple, his breath catches, and Eddie’s gaze flickers up to Buck’s face, he’s biting his bottom lip so hard that he’s surely going to draw blood.  “Should I tell you how much I’ve wanted to touch you, how much I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you?” Buck moans, “Eds please.”

No pressure tagging: @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @buddierights @forthewolves @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @eddiediaztho @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @fortheloveofbuddie @sammy-souffle @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherluciferr @cowboy-buddie @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg

[chronic-gastro-illness-culture]

Dealing with Chronic Gastro Pain

Explaining Pain Levels

The pain scale actually has standard explanations which divides pain into three categories ranging from mild for lower numbers, moderate to cover the middle numbers, and severe for numbers above seven. Even this isn’t very clear, however, because as previously stated mild or moderate pain means different things to different people. Most of us need a way to break down those categories a little further:

⚠️ Mild Pain. On the pain scale, this level of pain ranges between numbers one and three, and can be categorized as nagging or annoying. You are aware that it’s there, but it doesn’t necessarily interfere with life on a daily basis and you are able to carry on with most of the activities you enjoy. Pain at the level of 1 is barely noticeable, at level 2 it’s a little stronger and can be annoying, Level 3 pain can be distracting but you can adapt and manage despite it.

✴️ Moderate Pain. At this level, pain starts to interfere with daily life. At level 4, it’s distracting but you can ignore it when you are very interested in something else. At level 5, it’s hard to ignore and takes a lot of effort to work or mix socially with friends. With level 6 pains, you have difficulty concentrating and it stops you getting on with normal daily activities.

🚨 Severe Pain. Severe pain is that which is disabling, preventing you from performing normal activities during the day or night. At level 7, pain stops you sleeping. Either you can’t get to sleep at all or it will wake you during the night, and keeping up with social relationships is very difficult. When it intensifies to level 8, pain makes even holding a conversation extremely difficult and your physical activity is severely impaired. Pain is said to be at level 9 when it is excruciating, prevents you speaking and may even make you moan or cry out. Level 10 pain is unbearable. You will be bedridden and possibly even delirious.

[ SOURCE: https://ercare24.com/understanding-pain-levels/?amp=1 ]

When To Use The Emergency Room

🚨 Signs Of An Emergency

How quickly do you need care? If a person or unborn baby could die or be permanently disabled, it is an emergency.

Call 911 or the local emergency number to have the emergency team come to you right away if you cannot wait, such as for:

Choking

Stopped breathing

Head injury with passing out, fainting, or confusion

Injury to neck or spine, particularly if there is loss of feeling or inability to move

Electric shock or lightning strike

Severe burn

Severe chest pain or pressure

Seizure that lasted more than 1 minute or from which the person does not rapidly awaken

Go to an emergency department or call 911 or the local emergency number for help for problems such as:

Trouble breathing

Passing out, fainting

Pain in the arm or jaw

Unusual or bad headache, particularly if it started suddenly

Suddenly not able to speak, see, walk, or move

Suddenly weak or drooping on one side of the body

Dizziness or weakness that does not go away

Inhaled smoke or poisonous fumes

Sudden confusion

Heavy bleeding

Possible broken bone, loss of movement, particularly if the bone is pushing through the skin

Deep wound

Serious burn

Coughing or throwing up blood

Severe pain anywhere on the body

Severe allergic reaction with trouble breathing, swelling, hives

High fever with headache and stiff neck

High fever that does not get better with medicine

Throwing up or loose stools that does not stop

Poisoning or overdose of drug or alcohol

Seizures

If you are thinking about hurting yourself or others, call or text 988 or chat 988lifeline.org. You can also call 1-800-273-8255 (1-800-273-TALK). The 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline provides free and confidential support 24/7, anytime day or night.

You can also call 911 or the local emergency number or go to the hospital emergency room. DO NOT delay.

If someone you know has attempted suicide, call 911 or the local emergency number right away. DO NOT leave the person alone, even after you have called for help.

✴️ When To Go To An Urgent Care Clinic

When you have a problem, do not wait too long to get medical care. If your problem is not life threatening or risking disability, but you are concerned and you cannot see your provider soon enough, go to an urgent care clinic.

The kinds of problems an urgent care clinic can deal with include:

Common mild illnesses, such as colds, the flu, earaches, sore throats, migraines, low-grade fevers, and limited rashes

Minor injuries, such as sprains, back pain, minor cuts and burns, minor broken bones, or minor eye injuries

⚠️ If You Are Not Sure, Talk To Someone

If you are not sure what to do, and you don't have one of the serious conditions listed above, call your provider. If the office is not open, your phone call may be forwarded to someone. Describe your symptoms to the provider who answers your call, and find out what you should do.

Your provider or health insurance company may also offer a nurse telephone advice hotline. Call this number and tell the nurse your symptoms for advice on what to do.

✅ Prepare Now

Before you have a medical problem, learn what your choices are. Check the website of your health insurance company. Put these telephone numbers in the memory of your phone:

Your provider

The closest emergency department

Nurse telephone advice line

Urgent care clinic

Walk-in clinic

[ SOURCE: https://medlineplus.gov/ency/patientinstructions/000593.htm ]

Visiting the ER for Chronic Pain

How to reduce stress and suspicion when seeking chronic pain medications.

1. Make sure that you have a regular physician who treats your chronic pain.

That’s a relationship that all chronic pain patients should establish before they ever set foot in an emergency room, Blumstein says. But many people don’t have a doctor, he says, “and it looks really bad from a doctor’s point of view when a patient comes in and says, ‘Oh, I have this terrible chronic pain,’ and the doctor says, ‘Who’s taking care of this terrible chronic pain?’ and the patient says, ‘Oh, I don’t have a doctor.’”

“Before you get into a situation where there’s an exacerbation of your condition, make sure you have a regular doctor treating you,” he says.

2. Show that you’ve tried to contact your regular doctor before you go to the ER.

If you’ve been in pain for five days and have not alerted your doctor, the ER staff will question how bad your pain really is, Blumstein says. Even if the pain struck just that day, make an effort to contact your regular doctor first, he suggests.

ER staff will be more sympathetic to patients who have called their doctors and been told to go to the emergency room because the doctor was unable to see them, Blumstein says. “At least you’re showing you made an effort. You’re using the emergency room as your treatment of last resort, as opposed to the primary place you go for pain medication.”

3. Bring a letter from your doctor.

“A letter from your physician, with a diagnosis and current treatment regimen, is a reasonable thing to carry with you,” Fraifeld says. “Particularly if you’re on chronic opioids in today’s atmosphere, I would highly recommend that to patients.”

Make sure the letter has your doctor’s name and phone number, Blumstein says. That way, if ER doctors want to contact your physicians, they can. A letter is especially useful if you’re traveling or going to a hospital that you’ve never visited before.

It’s fine to bring medical records, too, Fraifeld says. But don’t overdo it, Blumstein says. “I’ve had patients come in with tons of records -- I mean, you could measure the stack in inches. It just looks like you’re going overboard.”

4. Bring a list of medications.

Bring a list of your medications, instead of relying on memory, Blumstein says.

Fraifeld takes it one step further and suggests that patients bring the drugs. “Take all the pain prescriptions with you -- the actual bottles -- not just the list,” he says. “[Patients], I’m sad to say, highly contribute to their own problems by not even being able to tell physicians exactly what they’re getting and when they got it and whom they got it from.”

5. Work cooperatively with emergency room staff.

“It might not be fair, but if a patient comes in screaming and shouting that they need pain medication right away, the staff isn’t going to like it. It calls negative attention to yourself,” Blumstein says. “And it is unfair, because you might be having agonizing pain, and why shouldn’t you speak up for yourself, right? But a lot of staffs don’t like it and they don’t respond well to it. So rather than demand things, try to work cooperatively with the staff.”

[ SOURCE: https://www.webmd.com/pain-management/guide/whats-causing-my-chest-pain ]

Stomach Pain

For mild abdominal pain, call your doctor first. If the pain is sudden, severe or does not ease within 30 minutes, seek emergency medical care.

Sudden abdominal pain is often an indicator of serious intra-abdominal disease, such as a perforated ulcer or a ruptured abdominal aneurysm, although it could also result from a benign disease, such as gallstones.

Continuous, severe abdominal pain—or abdominal pain accompanied by continuous vomiting—may indicate a serious or life-threatening condition, such as one of the types described below.

Symptoms of appendicitis may include severe pain (usually in the lower right abdomen, but may start anywhere in the abdomen), loss of appetite, nausea, vomiting or fever. Treatment generally requires urgent surgical removal of the appendix. Long delays in treatment can cause serious complications resulting from perforation (rupture) of the appendix, which can lead to a life-threatening infection.

Symptoms of an ectopic pregnancy include severe abdominal pain and vaginal bleeding. In an ectopic pregnancy, a fertilized egg has implanted outside of the normal site in the “womb” or uterus, such as in the fallopian tubes.

Symptoms of acute pancreatitis usually include pain in the middle upper abdomen that may last for a few days. The pain may become severe and constant, or it may be sudden and intense. It may also begin as mild pain that gets worse when food is eaten. Other symptoms include nausea, a swollen and tender abdomen, fever and a rapid pulse.

[ SOURCE: https://www.emergencyphysicians.org/article/know-when-to-go/stomach-pain ]

[satashiiwrites]

wip whenever

Tagged by @rosieposiepuddingnpie for a WIP whenever. Working on this little piece this afternoon and hope to have a chapter yeeted this weekend.

Tagging @monsterrae1 @tkwritesdumbassassins @quietborderline @whimsyswastry @missanniewhimsy @outtoshatter with no pressure and anyone else who wants to play along.

Graphics by me

Title: Separation Anxiety, chapter 2, part of An Endless Knotting series

Fandom: 911

Pairing: Buddie.

Fic summary: Buck returns to work after his heat leave and both of them have some adjusting to do while separated as Eddie prepares to start his new job.  However, reunions are meant to be savored, and Eddie has a surprise for Buck after his trying shift. 

Tags/warnings: first draft. Egregious use of spanish endearments in possibly incorrect ways, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, excessive knotting, mpreg, porn with plot series.

Eddie does his best to keep busy with chores and errands but he has to constantly tell himself not to follow the not-so-subtle tug of the bond that stretches between him and Buck like a rubber band. 

He needs to let Buck work, Eddie tells himself again and again. Not even a trip to help Abuela with her grocery shopping is suitably distracting. 

“You keep sighing like that and I’ll have you audition for a telenovela. I saw a flier for auditions.  You can play pining lovestruck man numero uno.”

“I’m not single,” Eddie laughs, “and I’m not interested in anyone other than Buck.  I just miss him.”

“Your alma gemela. I remember what that was like when I was first bonded to my Edmundo.  I missed him so much and he’d just be outside mowing the yard or running to the grocery store.”

“Buck’s a bit further away,” Eddie says and then internally scolds himself for trying to out-miss his mate with his abuela.  Abuela still missed her husband, Eddie’s namesake grandfather and it’d been a decade and a half since he’d passed. 

“Tcch,” Abuela scolds him, tone playful. “You’re both so young.”

“My knees ache sometimes in the mornings.  I’m not that young.”

That gets a chuckle out of Abuela and Eddie counts at as a win.  She has him shucking corn on the cob for their dinner and saving the husks so they can be dried to make tamales. Christopher is busy on Abuela’s Nintendo discovering the world of Hyrule and saving a princess.”” 

“Your Buck is good for you, good for Christopher,” Abuela idly observes as she stirs the red chili sauce she’s making to go with the pork she slow cooked all day, taking a taste. The rice cooker Eddie bought for her as a birthday present with his first paycheck from the army is keeping the rice warm and ready, the large pot on the stove filled with water to cook the corn ready and bubbling next to the sauce. They’re going to have a feast tonight and Eddie wishes Buck was here to try it all. 

He’ll have to ask if they can take the leftovers home so Buck can have a taste. His omega seems to like trying spicy food, and Eddie would love it if Buck loves the food he’d grown up with so they can share it. They’ve both loved everything they’d shared so far. 

“He asked if I would teach him to cook your favorites,” Abuela says with a sly smile. 

“Buck did?”

“Yes.  He wants you and Christopher to be happy.  I told him I’d teach him the family secrets including my tamale recipe. Something tells me he will be a good student and keep you and Christopher well fed.”

“You’ve never taught mom your recipes,” Eddie says dumbly, proud that Abuela has taken to Buck so well.  She’d… tolerated Shannon and been polite to her face but the family had for years called Shanon la gringa in a not-so-flattering way.  

Abuela has already bestowed multiple endearments upon Buck including guapo, dulzura and Eddito’s amor which indicated Buck had passed some invisible test that Eddie didn’t understand with The LA branch of his family. Even Pepa had been teasing Buck within five minutes of meeting him and calling him Evanito.Pepa doesn’t call anyone not a blood relative by a nickname.  

He’s a bit nervous about introducing Buck to his parents.  His parents historically have disliked everyone Eddie has so much as looked at and had waged a not-so-cold war against Shannon from the day they’d announced her pregnancy with Christopher. 

“Tcccch! Your mother has no patience and cannot handle any heat.  Luckily you have our side of the family to strengthen your stomach!”

“Abuela,” Eddie protests, thinking he should probably defend his mother but it’s sadly true that his mom never has been able to eat anything remotely spicy despite being married to his father for thirty-five years and living in south Texas her entire life.  

[xanadontit]

My aunt (dad’s youngest sister) has had some kind of medical event and was airlifted to a hospital out of town with a faint pulse and put on life support. My dad didn’t have much information beyond that; apparently she was able to call 911 for herself when she didn’t feel right and by the time the ambulance got to her she was unconscious in her home.

My uncle (dad’s older brother) is the closest to her geographically and listed as her emergency contact so he was called and informed of what’s happening. My aunt is widowed with no children and none of the three siblings (there’s another sister in WA) know of any existing medical directive or power of attorney and they’re all kind of like “So… what do we do? What CAN we do?”

And because I am an asshole I (after telling my dad I’m so sorry to hear this) went in on my dad about how this is why I’ve been on his case to get some stuff into place. They have no estate plan at all. Every time I think about it for more than five minutes I feel my blood pressure spike. It’s so irresponsible!

My dad acknowledged it’s well past due and said we should sit down and talk next week and like, sir, you need to find an attorney* and talk to them and then let me know where the documents are or give me a copy (or whoever they want to take charge). You and your wife should discuss what you want and make a list of questions to ask the attorney and just go do it.

Anyway, leave it to my family to wait for a crisis in order to handle a relatively simple errand.

*My dad’s best friend from high school does this for a living oh my GOD why has this been so hard? I also worked for an estate attorney for three years and could have gotten them a sweet deal.

[vizishereig]

Do you have any other WIPs and/or AUs in the works? If you have a snippet to share (no pressure) :3

oh, I do! uhmm, hmmm, lets sift through my documents.

okay, I'll give ya two <3

hiding under cut bc one has mentions of eye trauma and the other is kind of 18+? just a little?

He’s sitting in bed, on his phone, when it happens.

His left eye starts to tear up, out of nowhere. He blinks, confused. Trying to blink the tears away, but they keep coming. Leon blinks again, first the left eye, closing it for a second, then opening, then doing the same with the right.

There are black dots in the vision of his left eye. Something is wrong. He doesn’t know what, but something is wrong.

A small spark of panic is growing, but he pushes it away. He gets up (and he’s still in his night clothes, hasn’t even left his room all day) walking over to look in the mirror. He gets close, trying to see the problem. He catches a glimpse of his left eye, the spots in his vision making it hard for him to understand what he’s seeing.

The panic spreads. Something is wrong.

His phone is in his hand, and he thinks about calling 911, but hospitals have always been a huge fucking no.

He calls Luis instead.

---

"I'm not a dog, asshole," he spits out, the pain in his head knocking words loose. The tug on his hair is entirely expected, but he still winces at the sudden yanking, hazy blue eyes forced to meet Krauser's.

"You know, you say that, but you still follow orders so well. Even now, on you're wild goose chase to save that girl. You can't help it, huh?" The hand in his hair tightens it's grip as Krauser continues, "You were made for this. And I think you know it, deep down. You are nothing if you aren't listening to someone."

The words hit too close to home, but all Leon does is glare, struggling to move away, blood tracing the curve of his face. Krauser barks out another laugh, using already bloodied fingers to catch the drop and bringing it to his mouth. His rage is blinding as his own blood is smeared over his lips.

He wants to bite him. He doesn't.

"Here's how it's going to go, boy scout," The hand on his hair loosens just a bit, but he's distracted by the gentle shh of a knife being unsheathed. The tip comes to rest against his chin, digging into his skin. He tries to pull away, but the hand in his hair doesn't let him.

"Ah, ah, ah. Listen closely. You're going to open up," he pauses, knife moving up to gently trace over his lips, "and you're going to suck me off. Just like old times, right?"

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Just A Trick

It’s a fucking joke. A trick. Loki’s at it again.

He’s going to snap out of this any second now, whole and well, definitely not impaled on six inches of rebar right through his back.

Dean palpates his chest, puzzled that it looks fully intact. He must be imagining the pain inside, that eerie feeling of metal grinding against bone, of cartilage and flesh shredded and bleeding.

This cannot be happening.

“AHHH!” he barks, furious, and Sam in front of him flinches.

His little brother looks frozen in shock. Dean told him not to move him, that the stupid piece of rebar that cannot be real is holding him together right now. Sam seems at a loss what to do, and Dean knows he has to take charge.

“Call 911, Sam,” Dean tells him through gritted teeth. “Now.”

At the command, Sam snaps out of his stupor.

“On it.” His fingers fly over the display of his phone.

“Tell- tell them to bring rescue equipment,” Dean rasps through the burning in his chest. There’s a mounting pressure behind his breastbone, and breathing is becoming more difficult. “They’ll have to- to cut me loose.”

Sam nods, and when the operator picks up, Dean hears Sam rattle down the five w’s in quick and coordinated order, emphasizing the fact that Dean is fucking impaled on a fucking metal rod and that there is no time to waste. Thank God the woman on the other end knows her job: In the next few minutes she does her best to keep Sam calm and Dean alive while ensuring them that help will arrive in a matter of minutes.

Hopefully, that’ll be fast enough. Dean’s lungs feel like they’re filling up with sand (although it’s probably blood), and the pain from his injury radiates through his torso in bright-hot rays.

“…him awake,” Dean catches the 911 woman’s voice through the speaker. (Did he zone out for a moment?) “And keep him still.”

Dean almost has to laugh. Keeping still won’t be a problem, pinned as he is, like a fucking butterfly in a glass case. The staying awake part, though, may become a little too much to ask. He’s tired, so very tired, and, really, who wants to be lucid with a metal rod rammed through their insides?!

He feels Sam pet his cheek and hears the urgency in his voice when he tells him to “open your eyes, Dean, stay with me, stay awake, come on, eyes open!”

Nevertheless, he feels his eyelids droop. But as his gaze wanders down, earthbound, he catches sight of one of the bodies strewn on the floor, and-

“Sam!” His consciousness snaps back to red alert. “Shit, Sammy, the- the bodies!”

His brother, eyes wide and fixed on him, shakes his head. “I don’t care, Dean. I don’t care what they’ll think. We’ll figure it out. Doesn’t matter now.”

It’s Dean’s turn to shake his head. Fuck, even that hurts. “Sam!” he urges. “You’ve got to hide- put them into the-“ He tilts his head to indicate the boarded-up stall in the corner of the barn, where the vamps had hidden the children.

Sam looks but doesn’t want to listen.

“No, Dean, it’s no use. And I’m not leaving you.”

Only now does Dean realize that Sam has gripped him under the elbows, supporting him as best as he can. Not that it’s doing much, and it doesn’t have to; the rebar is keeping him upright well enough, and Dean can still feel his legs underneath him, stubbornly holding his weight.

“No, please, you-“ Dean quickly squeezes his eyes shut against a stab of pain. “I’m not surviving this to rot in prison,” he croaks, his fingers digging into Sam’s forearms. “I can’t do it, Sammy. You can’t.”

“But-“

“We’ve gotta try, Sammy!” Dean is desperate, so desperate a stupid joke bubbles up in him. “You look like crap in orange.”

Miraculously, that works. Maybe Sam believes that it’s not as bad as it really is because Dean’s still cracking jokes. In any case, he lets go of Dean’s arms and drags the bodies, cut-off heads and all, into the stall one after the other, and he padlocks it. Then he quickly spreads straw over what little blood there is on the floor - their luck that vampires don’t bleed much, what with not having a heartbeat.

“Okay. Okay.”

A little out of breath and sweating, Sam’s back in front of Dean, back supporting him, and Dean vaguely wonders when his little brother became so strong and fast.

Everything is becoming kind of vague and cottony in his head. Flashes of panic, flashes of pain - it all bounces off a veneer that seems to lay itself between him and the world. He’s running out of time, and it’s a scary thought, and shouldn’t the ambulance be here by now?

“I’m fading- I’m fading pretty quick,” Dean manages to articulate.

Sam’s eyes flare with fear, but dammit if he isn’t trying to be brave about it.

“You’re not,” Sam says stubbornly, his grip on Dean intensifying. “You are not dying on me, you hear me? You are Dean fucking Winchester, you’ve been through worse, and you’re going to make it out of here alive! And when you’re out of the hospital, you’ll hang out in the bunker for a few weeks and watch soap operas while Miracle sheds all over your goddamn sheets, and I’ll be pissed at you for drinking beer in bed. You’re going to pull yourself together now and stay awake, or I’ll have to slap you in the face!”

Dean wants to grin but isn’t sure if it shows on his face. Everything is growing a little numb.

“Easy, tiger,” he says, and it’s barely a whisper, his throat scratchy and tight. “Take it easy on your old-” He has to cough and, Jesus Christ on a stick, it hurts like fucking hell. His ribcage clenches around the rebar, his heart hurtling into a frenzy as the pain starbursts through him. He hasn’t lit up in agony like this since his days in Hell.

Choking helpless coughs, Dean squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ride it out.

“Dean! Breathe! Come on, just breathe!”

Dean latches on to Sam’s voice until his ravaged lungs can pull in enough air again to at least keep him conscious. When the fit is over and reality returns, Dean’s cheeks are wet, and his mouth tastes like copper. Sam’s face is his anchor, his hazel-brown-green-blue eyes searching and holding Dean’s gaze as if he could tie him to this world with the love and the iron will Dean recognizes in them.

“There you go. That’s it,” Sam says firmly. “You’ve got this.”

He’s not got this. “I- hnnngh”

Dean’s legs give out, and pain tears through his chest when the rebar takes his weight like a meat hook. God no, Dean thinks, not this again. Memories of Hell flood him, red-hot and blinding.

“Dean! Hang on!”

Sam is there, ducking under his right arm and pulling it across his shoulders, his other hand on Dean’s belt. It hurts, pulling on everything that’s torn in him, and through his own choked noises of agony he hears Sam’s “I’m sorry, Dean, I’m sorry”, but at least Sam’s manoeuver keeps him from being cut in half.

I’m not going to make it, Dean thinks. And: Cas. Please. Help me!

It doesn’t make sense. Cas is gone, absorbed by the Empty. The angel cannot swoop in to save him this time. Dean’s heart stutters at the memory of his loss, of Cas’ sacrifice. Of Cas’ love for Dean. That stupid, stupid, soft son of a bitch.

“Come on, Dean, stay with me! They’re almost here!”

And Dean hears it: The wail of an approaching ambulance - no, more than one? A cacophony of sirens closes in on them.

“Hey, hey! Dean! Stay with me!”

And somehow, Dean does. He’s wheezing, and his vision is a narrowing tunnel. Blood pools in his mouth and dribbles down his chin. His heart is a piece of burning coal, his whole chest on fire. His legs don’t belong to him anymore.

But he can’t do this to Sam. He won’t do this to Cas. The angel gave his life for him. He’s not going to die like this - a stupid, senseless, idiotic death. It’s not going to happen.

The barn’s bathed in light now, and Dean distantly wonders if Cas has come after all, but then there are voices and uniforms and gloved hands on him. Sam’s warmth leaves his side, and Dean finally loses consciousness to a chorus of questions and medical lingo washing over him.

xxx

It’s not the first time he’s woken up choking on a breathing tube, but it never gets any easier. At least he knows the drill - alarms blaring and people rushing in while he gags and bucks and panics. They put him under again, and the next time he comes to, the wretched tube is out, and he’s left with a nasal cannula and the feeling of a cut-up throat. They’ve draped him on his side, propped up by pillows, and he doesn’t even want to know where all the tubes and wires lead that disappear under his hospital gown. It burns here and itches there, and his chest and back feel like hamburger meat held together by duct tape.

“Dean? Hey…”

Sam untangles his long limbs from where he’s folded himself into a chair by the bed, a blanket slipping to the floor.

“Hey, you’re awake!”

“S- … S’my”

It’s a pathetic attempt at pronouncing his little brother’s name; he sounds like a rusty door hinge. But it seems to be good enough for Sam whose eyes - Jesus, when was the last time he slept - light up in his tired, scruffy face.

“Man, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

Sam reaches for Dean’s hand, carefully, as if he were made of something breakable. But his grip is warm and firm, and Dean doesn’t shrug him off.

“How’re you feeling? If you’re in pain I can call the nurse and she can give you more of the…” He waves at one of Dean’s numerous IVs.

“Peach-... peachy,” Dean croaks, forcing one corner of his mouth into a smirk.

“That can’t be true,” a different voice says from the door, a deeper voice, and Dean almost stops breathing at the sight of the hallucination that walks into his line of vision. It must be a hallucination; it can’t be Castiel, Angel of the Lord, in his rumpled trench coat, tie loose, beardy, with a paper cup of coffee in his hand.

“You’re recovering from complex cardio-thoracic surgery. They had to crack your chest and resuscitate you - twice. You’ve been on a ventilator for eight days. I don’t believe “peachy” is an accurate term to describe your physical condition .”

Dean stares at the angel, uncomprehending. His heart throws a drumroll, for everyone to hear as it beep-beep-beeps in agitated spikes.

“Cas?” His voice cracks.

Castiel hands the coffee to Sam and steps closer until he’s right by the bed, standing there in typical Cas-fashion - a little slouched, arms at his sides, head slightly canted, blue gaze intense and ethereal.

“Hello Dean.”

There’s no saliva in Dean’s mouth. Something twists in his chest, both painfully and warm. His head is swimming with half-bred thoughts, clouded by too many fucking drugs. He doesn’t know what to feel, how to deal with this sudden, bright blue shock of elation.

“How…?” is all he manages.

Sam has risen to his feet, smiling through the exhaustion etched into his features.

“He showed up while you were in surgery. When your heart stopped. We don’t know exactly how, or why. If Jack was involved. We think that maybe it was you who brought him back.”

Dean licks dry lips. “Me?”

“I heard your prayer,” Castiel elaborates. “I wanted to come. But I was stuck. The Empty - it had me pinned down. I couldn’t even move. But when your heart stopped, I felt it, and something - something happened. It shook me loose. I felt a surge of power. And then…” He gestures around the room. “Then I was here. Human. I think you pulled me out.”

It’s all a little too much for Dean. His body is a mess, and his brain is bubble-wrapped. Words want to surface from where Dean tucked them away, rehearsed over and over, certain he’d never get to say them. His throat hurts, his chest tightens, and he is not going to fucking cry.

“I’ll give the two of you a minute,” Sam says, running a hand through his too-long hair. “And I’ll go get your doctor. She’ll be happy to see you awake.”

His brother leaves, and Dean is left with a staring angel and blinking tears away.

He lifts a shaking hand to wipe at his eyes, but the movement is pulling on tubes, and he’s weak as a kitten, so he lets his arm sink again.

“There’s so much-” he starts and stops, sandpaper for vocal chords. He can’t look at Cas anymore; he wants to look at nothing else for the rest of his life. He’s been such a damn fool.

The angel reaches out a hand and gently lays it on Dean’s left shoulder, where it’s always belonged.

“It’s okay, Dean,” he rumbles softly. “We will figure this out when you feel better. You need to rest now. I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s the permission Dean needed. Exhausted and overwhelmed, he closes his eyes.

Tomorrow, he thinks, Cas’ hand still warm and safe on his shoulder, tomorrow I’m gonna say it back.

[nescaveckwriter]

Hurting Angel - Chapter Two 🐞🥹

Crowley x Reader

A/N: Hey my bugsies, for some kind of reason I just love writing about Crowley, I hope you all enjoy it just as much 🐞🥰

Side Note: Thanks for all the love and support 🐞🥰🩷🧡❤️

Warnings: Violence, mentions of blood and medical equipment, some light swearing, punching, mentions of weapons if anything else let me know.🥰🐞

''What was that noise?'' he demanded

As the man walks closer towards his bodyguards, he sees the car, with the woman inside, her face on the steering wheel, blood streaming down her side, lifting a brow ''well are you two just going to stand there, or remove the woman from the car?''

''Sorry boss!'' he mumbled, the two remove the woman gently from the vehicle, thinking the injuries she sustained, is from the car crash, they drag her onto the grass. 

Glancing at the woman's body, kneeling down to check for a pulse, she's breathing, but barely, scanning over her body, her skin color is pale, some open gashes on her face, her body covered in what looks like a comforter, the left side is drenched in blood, his fingers slowly unravels the comforter from her, exposing the sowed up gash, blood coming from the wound, let's him know its, not older than a few hours maybe.

Removing his black tailored suit jacket, applying pressure, his voice bitter, ''You minion'' showing towards the shorter bodyguard ''get Doctor Pierce, on the phone, tell him its urgent'' cocking his head towards the taller guy, ''You clear the dining room table''

''But Sir, shouldn't we call 911'' he stutters

''I said now, fool!'' he sneered

He cradle's the woman in his arms gently, carrying her towards the dining room table, placing her down softly, still applying pressure, he feels her body moving underneath his hands, he's voice low ''lay still love'' hearing her whine and whimper, ''I know your in pain, help is coming soon'' observing her face, the color around her plum lips, turning slight bluish, her eyes, half way open, but tired, trying to soothe the pain she must be in, he thumbs away the stray tear running down her cheek. 

The rising and falling off her chest is getting slower and slower, till there's no movement in sight anymore. ''Where the hell is the doctor'' he shouts, ordering one of the men to hold pressure on the wound as he starts chest compressions, he does not stop despite the sound off her ribs cracking underneath his hands.

Not taking sight of the older man entering his house, finding his way towards the dining room table, the things that man has seen, the wounds he healed, the bullets he removed, the men he couldn't save, always on stand by for the devil, of course he'll complain about it, but in all honesty this man, everyone believes to be so evil, gave him purpose again. Walking towards in he surely didn't expect a woman laying on the table and Crowley administering CPR. Jumping right into action, ordering the men to unpack everything, all while scolding them, for not explaining the whole situation on the phone.

What seems like hours, he finally stabilized the woman, after doing a life blood transfusion from Crowley to the woman, luckily he's blood group is 'O' which makes him a universal blood donor. Removing the gloves from his hands, shaking his head, ''The fact that there's people in this world that will purposely butcher people to make money, sickens me'' his voice revealing the frustration. 

''Hey Doc, how is she,?'' his voice tight

''Truly only time will tell, I can't simply give you a straight answer, there's a chance that the wound might get infected and she'll need to take immunosuppressant's for quite a while, hoping it works well, she'll live a normal life with just one kidney, but there can be complications.'' he sighs

Mumbling underneath his breath ''when I get ahold off these animals I will unleash all hell on them'' his eyes darker than normal.

A half-smile on the doctors face ''I will get the required medication she needs tomorrow''

''Thanks Doc, you will will be well reimbursed for everything'' he confirmed

''The only payment I need is for her to get well again,'' he announced

The two men sat at her bedside, not really saying anything, just keeping an eye on the fragile human being, hoping she pulls through. Every now and then the Crime Boss gets up and walks around making calls arranging that the car she came with, will be destroyed, as well as phoning all his contacts, so that he can figure out what organization or syndicate is into organ trafficking, its his streets and there are damn rules the people around him needs to stick too. No human or organ trafficking is allowed.     

Opening her eyes, turning her head to the sunrays, pushing threw the opening in the thick dark blue curtains, the windows is gigantic, her head is spinning, not fully comprehending where she's at, glancing down, her body is tugged underneath a thick blanket, removing her arms slowly, something pulls at her skin, focusing on her hand now, inspecting the needle that's inserted into a vein, that's attached to a tube-like cable, going up the way to a drip, with her free hand she removes the blanket exposing her body in an oversized buttoned up shirt, there's cables that's sticking to her chest, glaring over to the side off the bed, there's monitors, with readings of heart beats per minute, what looks like blood pressure and something else. 

Still a little hazy, she tries to remember what happened, and like waves it come crashing to her, the bar, the bathtub with ice, the open gash on her side, the car she stole, the crash, and then the men with guns, by now, the alarms on the monitors are alerting everyone that her blood pressure is skyrocketing, her stomach is turning, her breathing rapid, she pulls at the chords, removing it, from her chest,  then tugs at the needle in her hand, quickly sliding out of the queen size bed, the oversized shirt, hanging loosely over her thighs, tiptoeing through the room, until she comes in front of the wooden door, she hears fast paced footsteps coming closer, searching in the room for something, to her left she sees a vase, grabbing ahold of it, she stands against the wall, as soon as the door opens, she hits the back of a grey man's head.

Not wasting anymore time, she starts running, the adrenaline too much, to think about the pain, she needs to get away, not a single clue of where to go, she runs down the stairs, hoping to find the way out, to find safety. Her feet brushes the last step, tilting her head to the right , there's what seems like to be a dining room and then towards her left, there it is, the big entry way, double wooden doors, she takes off towards the door, but all of the sudden she feels strong arms grabbing ahold off her from the back, a British accent that leaves her cold.

''Where do you think your going?'' he questioned

Her voice throaty ''Let me go you freak''

''Calm the hell down, and I just might'' he expressed

A muscle in her jaw tightened as she gritted her teeth. ''Fine''

He let her down easy, afraid to hurt her. She turns around taking in the man, his hair dark, his eyes even darker, and without any warning she balls a fist, punching him in the jaw. He doesn't even stumble backwards, instead he smiles, as he licks off the drop off blood that formed on his lips, shocked she balls her fists again, before she could punch him again, he grabs ahold off her wrists, his voice, husky, ''Is this the thanks I get for saving your life love''

Her eyes wide, her breath shaky. ''For all I know you have some hero complex, first you butcher me, then save me, and then you keep me alive as part of a sick game.''

A giggle escapes his lips, ''Aren't you a clever one'' 

''Let me go, and I won't call the cops, I have people looking for me, so it'd be better for you if you let me go'' she demanded

''Oh love, lets face it, no-one is looking for you, you've been here for four days, and there's no missing person reports, of anyone matching your description.'' he hissed

Her eyes wells up with tears, ''W...what do you mean four days?''

''The doctor can explain why, but yes four days'' his voice low

Tears running down her face, ''You need to let me go, my daughter s...she's probably thinks I abandoned her, please just let me go, I won't report it.''

The sadness and fear in her eyes, gives him a sharp pain in his chest, his voice, soft and low ''Let the doctor check you out first please, then we can go get your daughter'' he lets go of her wrists.

''No, I'm not coming back here, and I'm definitely not bringing my daughter here.'' she exclaimed

''Listen I understand why you might feel I'm the bad guy, but I'm not, not entirely anyway'' he smirked

Before she could say anything else, she feels a pinch of a needle in her neck, making her limbs go numb. Before she crashes to the ground, the British man with his dark eyes catches her. The last thing she heard was the man letting out laugher as he said, ''she's got you good Doc'' before everything went dark.

Chapter One Here 🐞

Chapter Two Here 🐞

Chapter Three Here 🐞

Chapter Four Here

[reyesstrand]

20 questions for fic writers

thank you for the tags @welcometololaland @strandnreyes & @alrightbuckaroo <33 this was a much needed distraction tonight!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

86

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

335,298

3. what fandoms do you write for?

predominantly 911 lone star. the only other thing i’ve dabbled in recently was the old guard

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos? (i’m going to exclude prompt collections here!)

like a bright new dream (first i love you)

wanna be still with you (2x08 coda)

lit the spark (that set a fire) (firefighter!carlos au)

take me back to the light (1x08 coda)

to be reborn (3x04 coda)

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i do!! even if it takes a few days (where i’m likely just staring at nice words in my inbox and using them as fuel to brighten my mood) i love having that connection, and seeing maybe what stood out to someone who read my silly little story

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

any of my codas that i wrote immediately after an episode aired—my 3x02 spec fic some and now none of you, or my 3x07 coda/3x08 spec fic not a victory march—simply because we didn’t know the outcome for these storylines yet, and i let myself get angsty.

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i think 95% of my fics have happy endings but to shout one out in particular….hm. i’d say got real love maybe—truly just. fluff. and the boys coming home to each other and making that official. i also think the proposal bliss in (not afraid of) living on a fault line has got to be up there as well

8. do you get hate on fics?

nothing major

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i’ve always stuck to very implied levels of smut in my fics….idk i always worry i won’t be able to make it sound good when there’s people out there who do it brilliantly. however i’m challenging myself with food fic which does have some smut (with feelings. oh the feelings)

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

crossovers aren’t really my thing!!

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

nope, would be honoured though!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

love helping with brainstorming bits, but have never actually co-written anything

14. what’s your all time favourite ship?

tarlos brainrot always and forever

15. what’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i have tons of ideas that i never commit to, which sucks. off the top of my head…the andrea & tk fic that i just never got into a flow with

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think i’m strongest when it comes to setting a scene; when exploring what that character is feeling. i like to think i can kind of evoke a mood through imagery? i’m most comfortable when it comes to introspection and exposition and general narrative

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i tell myself i’m getting better, but i’d say dialogue is the constant thing that throws me off. i also worry i over-write sometimes

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i like it, if it’s being done with good intentions and suits the character. i’d imagine for heavier dialogue it would make sense to ask for someone who speaks the language to read it over to make sure it’s accurate

19. first fandom you wrote for?

i think the get down, back in like 2017

20. favourite fic you’ve written?

i can’t choose, so i present to you two wildly different honeymoons. first, dream this night away—almost 8.5k words after a seven month gap between posting when my writer’s block was at an ultimate high. then of course, to which there is no reply—i’ve been growing happier and happier with my writing especially with these last few fics of mine, and this one is something i’m just super proud of, and the support on it definitely brought me to tears a bit ajdnskdn

no pressure tagging @carlos-in-glasses @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm @tailoredshirt @theghostofashton @inflarescent @birdclowns @liminalmemories21 @rmd-writes @heartstringsduet @freneticfloetry @orchidscript @tellmegoodbye @safeashousespdf and leaving an open tag as well!! <333

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

THE IDOL 1x03: Quotes

“- You see that young lady over there? (Tedros) - Yeah (Assistant).  - Got anything in the store as beautiful as she is?” (Tedros)

“- It’s good champagne, what is this? (Tedros) - Uh, it’s a Valentino exclusive. (Assistant)”

“- Where are you? Wait, are you at the house? (Leia) - Of course, I’m at the fucking house. You say, “911″, I come to the house, Leia. (Chaim) - Yo, I told you. This bitch is fuckin’ brain-dead. (Destiny) - Chaim, I’m really scared. This guy, Tedros, has just, like... taken over the fucking house. (Leia) - Gun. Gun. (Chaim) - Oh. (Destiny) - What does that mean, “He’s taken over the house”, Leia?” (Chaim)

“- They’re both gastrointestinal doctors, so. (Andrés) - My friend’s a gynecologist. You don’t see me stickin’ my finger in everybody, do you? (Tedros) - There’s nothing okay about what this creep just fuckin’ did. (Tedros) - It’s been a real pleasure working with you. I wish you, like, all the best. (Jocelyn) - That translates to “get the fuck outta here”, Andrés.” (Tedros)

“- Chaim, are you trying to kill me? (Finkelstein) - Not today. No, why? (Chaim) - Do you want my children to grow up without a father? Is that what this is?  (Finkelstein) - Fink, why, why would I wish that on anybody? (Chaim) - Well, then let’s cancel the tour. ((Finkelstein) - The tour’s gonna make millions of dollars. What happened? (Chaim) - Millions of doll... Right now, she’s making me have IBS. I’m fuckin’ shitting more blood than a kid at Epstein’s island. (Finkelstein) - Turn up the car radio very loud. Really Loud. (Chaim) - Okay, Okay. (Destiny) - Fink, I’m sorry it’s hard to hear. We’re at the studio. (Chaim) - Whoa, whoa, whoa.” (Finkelstein)

“- How the fuck did you get here? (Chaim) - Oh, I’m, I’m from here. (Tedros) - You’re from LA? (Chaim) - Right. (Tedros) - Which part? (Chaim) - Uh, Hollywood. (Tedros) - You grew up in Hollywood? (Destiny) - Yeah. (Tedros) - Wow. Me too. (Destiny) - No shit. (Tedros) - Yes. Born and raised. (Destiny) (...) - Why are you tryin’ to, like, make him feel bad about getting kicked out of school?” (Jocelyn) (...) - Three songs in two weeks. Yeah? Hits. (Chaim) - Not songs, hits. (Tedros) - Hits. Undeniable. (Chaim) - Undeniable. (Tedros) - Nothing less. (Chaim) - Nothing less. (Tedros) (...) - No, no, no. She has to know the truth. You gotta know what the stakes are. (Chaim) - Okay, but you don’t have to freak her out like that. (Destiny) - Yeah, no. (Chaim) - It’s too much pressure. (Destiny) - Join the freak-out club, okay? I’m freaked out, she’s freaked out. If you had any sense, you would be fuckin’ freaked out because it’s do or die, all right? (Chaim) - It is. He’s not lying. (Destiny) - No fucking room to fail here. I mean, use it as motivation, but... that’s what’s happening. Well, then what the fuck you wasting time talking to me? Get to work. Three massive hits. I’ll deal with Nikki. Just try not to end my fuckin’ career, okay? (Chaim) - I will do my very best. (Jocelyn) - I think our girl’s in trouble. (Chaim) - My grandmother said you never trust a dude with a rat tail.” (Destiny)

“- I feel like the more you let people in, the more reason they have not to...want you anymore... you know? (Jocelyn) - Yeah. (Chloé) - But I’ve never really sung about anything, like, truthful. (Jocelyn) - Yeah. (Chloé) - Or anything that, like, really means anything to me. (Jocelyn) - Hm. Maybe just a lyric every once in a while. Like a secret. Nobody has to know. (Chloé) - Yeah, you’re right. Nobody has to know. (Jocelyn) - Was it really hard when she... when she died? (Chloé) - She was really sick for a long time, and... I was holding her hand when she... closed her eyes. (Jocelyn) - I’m sorry. (Chloé) - But I feel like she’s still here. It’s weird. It’s like she’s still in this house, like she’s in all the walls, and... all the windows... and all the mirrors. I just can feel her like she’s still...watching me.” (Jocelyn)

“- Look, Xander, I brought you up here to tell you that creative direction fuckin’ sucks with Jocelyn. (Tedros) - I don’t disagree. (Xander) - You don’t disagree? You’re the fuckin’ creative director. (Tedros) - I know. (Xander) - What is it with this fuckin’ industry? Everybody hats what they fuckin’ do. (Tedros) - Welcome to the music business, yeah. (Xander) - How do you put out something you hate? (Tedros) - I’m fuckin’ forced to. (Xander) - What do you mean “forced to”? (Tedros) - I could have... the greatest fucking idea in the world, and often, I fucking do. And at the end of the day, it’s whatever the fucking laver and Jocelyn wants. (Xander) - What do you think about “I’m a Freak”? (Tedros) - The song? (Xander) - Yeah. (Tedros) - Fine? It’s fucking middle of the road, not enough of a re-invention, fucking... manufactured bad girl. (Xander) - Hm. (Tedros) - When was the last truly fucking nasty, nasty, bad pop girl? (Xander) - All right, let’s say you had carte blanche, right? What would you do? (Tedros) - I would take that photo with the fucking cum on her face... and I’d make it her album cover. I fuckin’ would. (Xander) - Wow, that’s a great idea. You’re fuckin’ smart. You wanna do some coke? (Tedros) - No. All the coke in LA has fentanyl in it. (Xander) - Not mine.” (Tedros)

“- If Tedros heard you say that, you’d be in huge trouble. (Izaak) - Yeah, you trippin’. (Jocelyn) - Yeah, you’re not allowed to say no. (Chloé) - You’re not allowed to say no? (Jocelyn) - Yeah. (Izaak) - Why? (Jocelyn) - Because by saying no, you’re denying yourself an experience. (Izaak) - Yeah, but not all experiences are good. (Jocelyn) - Debatable. That’s a really simple way of looking at things, Joss. (Izaak) - What do you mean? (Jocelyn) - Some of the most terrible experiences in life... can be the most valuable, like artistically. (Chloé) - I don’t know. I guess, like, to a degree. (Jocelyn) - Mm... Okay, Robert Plant had a son who died when he was five years old, and he wrote “All My Love” after that, and it’s one of the most beautiful songs ever written. (Chloé) - Yeah, but I think if Robert Plant had a say in it, he would’ve chosen his son’s life. (Jocelyn) - And that’d be a pretty big loss for the world. (Izaak) - You really believe that? (Jocelyn) - Yes. (Izaak) - That’s really fucked up. That’s, like, actually fucked up. (Jocelyn) - How often do people come up to you and tell you that your music saved their lives? (Izaak) - A lot. (Jocelyn) - A lot. And do you believe them when they say it? (Izaak) - Yes... I do. (Jocelyn) - Okay. Now imagine if you were Robert Plant. Or imagine if you had lost someone that you loved and you’d written one of the greatest love songs of all time. Then what? (Izaak) - So, you think that by losing his son, he was able to write something that saved a lot of people’s lives. (Jocelyn) - Yes. (Izaak) - And because of that, you’ll say yes to anything anyone asks you to do? (Jocelyn) - Yes. (Izaak) - Literally, anything? (Jocelyn) - Anything. (Izaak) - Interesting. Izaak, get up and kiss Ramsey. (Jocelyn) - See? (Ramsey) - Would you have done that if Leia was in the room? (Jocelyn) - Yes, that wouldn’t change anything, Jocelyn. (Izaak) - Even if it really hurt her feelings? (Jocelyn) - Yes. (Izaak) - Feelings can shift. What you make and what you put out into the world, that’s the shit that lasts forever. Not Leia’s fuckin’ feelings. (Head) - Would you kiss me? (Jocelyn) - Would I kiss you. Uh, that’s not a good idea. (Izaak) - Yeah. Why? (Jocelyn) - You know Tedros would fuckin’ kill me.” (Izaak)

“- And Tedros... thank you for teaching me how to have fun again. (Jocelyn) - To finding your family. (Tedros) (...) - If you lovely label is so fucking obsessed with making you a bad girl... (Tedros) - We should take the photo with the cum on your face.... (Xander) - Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. (Jocelyn) - ... and we should, um, make it your album cover. They’ve all definitely seen the photo, actually. (Xander) - Yeah, okay, but it’s different if you, like, embrace it. (Leia) - So, what? It’s only okay if the internet, like, uses it against me? (Jocelyn) - Preach.  - No. The internet is on your side. (Leia) - No. Literally, every outlet. (Jocelyn) - But... They all wrote beautiful pieces defending you and your right to grow up and have a sex life. (Leia) - There is no difference between the people making fun of me and the people supporting me. They’re all capitalizing off of it, and they’re just driving more people to look it up. (Jocelyn) - That’s exactly why you should make it your album cover. (Xander) - I mean...we could make the caption like, “New music coming soon.” I feel like that had its moment. I’m not sure I want... (Jocelyn)  - Who gives a fuck? (Tedros) - Because it’s actually humiliating and, like, makes me feel really bad about myself. (Jocelyn) - Why? (Tedros) - Because, like, it just, I wanna be... It just sucks. It actually sucks. It does. (Jocelyn) - No, what were you, what were you about to say just now? (Tedros) - I was gonna say, you know, I... wanna be taken seriously. (Jocelyn) - Why? (Tedros) - Because I do. (Jocelyn) - But why? (Tedros) - Because I wanna have a career that lasts, and is meaningful, and isn’t like a fucking joke. (Jocelyn) - And you will, Joss. You will. Trust me. (Leia) - No, not if she doesn’t take risks. (Tedros) - I mean, that’s easy to say if you’re not the one taking the risks. (Xander) - Yeah, but, Joss, this is, like, the right risk at the right time. (Leia) - You’ve got great people... (Xander) - There’s no such thing, as “the right risk at the right time”. If it’s risky, it’s risky for a reason. (Tedros) - No, but if it’s the right risk then you, like, basically, know how it’s gonna play out. (Jocelyn) - No, that’s the exact opposite of a risk. That’s playing it safe. That’s what everyone else does. Is that what you do? (Tedros) - Why are you talking to me like I’m, like, new to the music industry? I’m not. You are. (Jocelyn) - True. (Leia) - Don’t be rude. (Tedros) - I’m not being rude. It’s just, like, I’ve been doing this for over a decade, so... (Jocelyn) - And you’re stuck. (Tedros) - Yeah, I’m stuck. I’m stuck at the moment. (Jocelyn) - At the moment? What was the last song you wrote, Jocelyn? (Tedros) - “Daybreak”. (Jocelyn) - “Daybreak” on your second album. Okay, what was that, like a year ago? Year and a half? (Tedros) - I mean, I don’t think that’s, like, a big deal. Like, I think it’s gotta be the right song. (Jocelyn) - You mean the right risk. (Tedros) - Yeah, I mean the right risk. (Jocelyn) - And what I’m saying is, I think, maybe that’s why you can’t write a song. Yeah, ‘cause she’s fucking overthinking everything. (Tedros) - Exactly. (Xander) - You of all people should know it’s a bit more fucking complicated than that. (Jocelyn) - I mean... it is and it isn’t. I think that what Tedros is saying makes a lot of sense. I think you care... way too fucking much about what people think. (Xander) - I think if I didn’t care what people thought, I wouldn’t have a career. (Jocelyn) - I think if you care too much, you won’t have a career. (Tedros) - How can you complain about making superficial music all the time, about not being able to write anything honest, when all you think about is what people are gonna fucking say? You make superficial music because you think about superficial things. (Tedros) - I’m sorry. I don’t think it’s superficial to wanna make music that connects with people. (Jocelyn) - Why don’t you just be yourself, Jocelyn? (Tedros) - Because there’s nothing about me that’s relatable. (Jocelyn) - You sure about that? (Tedros) - Okay, what do you think is relatable about me? (Jocelyn) - I don’t know. All the dark shit you’ve been through in your life. (Tedros) - I think the dark shit I’ve been through is pretty fucking unique, too. (Jocelyn) - Yeah, I would agree. Her Mom was like a... rare breed. (Xander) - How so? (Tedros) - Um... I don’t really feel like talking about it in front of everyone. (Jocelyn) - Too late. (Tedros) - Tedros... please... not now. (Jocelyn) - Jocelyn, I don’t keep secrets from anyone at this table. (Tedros) - Well, that’s, that’s your prerogative. (Jocelyn) - I’m not gonna let you keep secrets either. (Tedros) - I think that’s a little easier to say when you don’t actually know the details. (Jocelyn) - Baby... There’s nothing that you’re gonna reveal to me right now that’s gonna make me love you any less. I think I speak for everyone at the table when I say that. You’re safe here... I promise. (Tedros) - She did a lot of things. A lot of things. Um, her... her favorite was probably... hitting me with a hairbrush. (Jocelyn) - Hitting you where? (Tedros) - My but, my... thighs, my stomach, my back. Like, just anywhere people wouldn’t notice. (Jocelyn) - Why’d she do that? (Tedros) - To focus. She did it as, like, a form of, uh, motivation, I guess. Kinda like a dog. She’d do it to help me remember my lines, to remember dance moves, to finish songs. She’d do it to keep me from falling asleep... to help me wake up on time. She’d do it is she caught me.. smoking, or drinking, or, flirting with someone she didn’t approve of. She’d do it if I overate, if I didn’t exercise, or... if she ever caught me,... smiling to myself. (Jocelyn) - How long did this go on for? (Tedros) - Until the chemo made her so weak she couldn’t lift up a hairbrush anymore. (Jocelyn) - You didn’t fight back? (Tedros) - No. (Jocelyn) - Why not? (Tedros)  - Because there’s just some battles you’re never gonna win. (Jocelyn) - That’s so sad. (Chloé) - And no one said anything? (Tedros) - Nope. (Jocelyn) - What about you? (Tedros) - I don’t know what we could’ve done. (Xander) - You sure about that? (Tedros) - I did the best that I could at the time. (Xander) - Really? (Tedros) - Yeah. (Xander) - How hard did she hit you, Jocelyn? (Tedros) - Hard enough to break skin. (Jocelyn) - Jesus Christ. And you felt like Xander was there for you? (Tedros) - In a lot of ways, yeah. (Jocelyn) - So, I’m guessing no one said anything because you’re getting paid? (Tedros) - Okay, that fucking wasn’t it. (Xander) - No? (Tedros) - No. (Xander) - What do you think? (Tedros) - I think it was just such a horrible, fucked-up situation that no one really knew what the right thing to do was. (Jocelyn) - Is there a part of you that wonders if the reason you’re stuck is because you’re mother’s not around? (Tedros) - Yeah, absolutely. (Jocelyn) - So, you... you miss it? (Tedros) - Getting hit? (Jocelyn) - The motivation it gave you. (Tedros) - Sometimes. (Jocelyn) - It you loved the music you were making... would you have felt like it was worth it? (Tedros) - Yeah. (Jocelyn) - Hey... all that trauma... you’re gonna turn into inspiration. You’re gonna tap into it. You’re gonna feel it. You’re gonna face it. You’re gonna remember it. And you’re gonna let it wash all over. You still got that hairbrush? (Tedros) - Yeah. (Jocelyn) - Go get it. (Tedros) - Okay. (Jocelyn) (...) - This is really gonna hurt. But if you push through the pain, it’ll be beautiful. (Tedros) (...) - Thank you for taking care of me. (Jocelyn)

[nelfs]

im so excited to move away from my roommate :( I am so tired of peeing in bottles when she takes her 2 hour shower time and I’ve had to take a 15 min walk to use the bathroom at the grocery store so many times because she just parks her ass in there with her phone forever. she kicks the front door open HARD when she comes home and I can hear her swearing about how the door doesn’t work (it does, she’s just stupid) and my blood pressure is just thru the roof. she was short and pissy with me when I asked her to pay me for bills yesterday and she’s just like a wholly unpleasant person to live with. the whole apartment lobby stinks like her perfume and it’s like she just took over the entire apartment. I pay $100 more than her because my room is a lot bigger but the porch is attached to her room and she’s always out there smoking weed so I just never use it anymore. and the front room used to be a place where I could chill w friends and it’s just her storage room now, the only thing I own in there is my bike. it’s just hell being here and she had that whole mental health episode where I had to call 911 and figure out where she was and go to the ER and bring her stuff and explain who she was and then the landlord blamed me for her stealing other tenants’ packages. and she always has some new male “friend” over so I can’t chill in my own space. i have got to get the hell out of here lol

[set-phasers-to-whump]

can't make an omelette without breaking a few legs

prompt: fracture

whumpee: eddie diaz

fandom: 911

hi! this fic is super duper pre ship and despite the title does not feature any broken legs lmao...hope you enjoy!!

He steps onto the roof, slightly crouched to lower his center of gravity. “Hi, Kevin!” he calls out to the boy who is sitting near the roof’s peak. “I’m Eddie. I’m gonna get you down, okay?”

Kevin nods. He’s sitting there curled into a ball, dripping wet and looking equal parts afraid and embarrassed. Apparently he’d managed to climb up onto the roof but had found himself unable to get back down when it had started raining. 

“Do you think you can come down towards me?” 

Kevin shakes his head. “I don’t wanna move!”

“Okay, all good,” Eddie reassures him. “I’ll come to you.”

The roof isn’t too steep, and it takes him only a few seconds to reach the kid. Eddie sits down beside him. 

“We’re gonna scoot towards the edge of the roof, okay?”

Kevin looks at him, eyes wide, but nods. “O-Okay.”

Using their feet, they slowly scoot down the roof towards the spot where the ladder is resting. They make it without incident, and Buck is there to grab onto Kevin and help him onto the ladder. They start climbing down, and Eddie’s about to follow them when Kevin cries, “my phone!”

“I’ve got it,” Eddie says immediately. If he squints he can see it, back near the top of the roof. He hopes it’s in a waterproof case. 

“Be careful, Eddie,” Buck calls after him, as he and Kevin descend the ladder. 

Eddie carefully makes his way back up to the top of the roof. He almost loses his footing once but stops himself from sliding anywhere. He gets his hands on the phone, tests the power button - it still works, luckily - and then tucks it into his pocket. 

He turns around to descend the roof and his left foot slips out from under him. For a second he stumbles and nearly regains his footing, but then it’s gone and before he has time to really even think about what’s happening, he’s falling off of the roof. 

He shouts, but barely hears himself over the whistling of air in his ears. The two-story fall takes forever and at the same time it takes no time at all. 

He hits the ground flat on his stomach, the air completely knocked out of him. Everything hurts, all the way down his body. He groans and then just lies there, not willing to move. 

“Eddie!” 

His team is here. He makes a vague noise to assure them that he’s alive and feels Hen and Chim’s hands on him. They take his pulse and check his blood pressure and feel his neck and he knows they’re just doing their jobs but he really doesn’t like it. 

“‘M fine,” he mumbles, face pressed into the wet grass. 

“Wanna try that again?” Hen asks. 

“You fell two stories, Eddie,” Chim adds. 

Everything hurts too much to think up a suitable reply. He settles for a sort of sigh, which makes the pain in his chest spike. He takes a deep breath and feels much the same thing. 

So he’s broken a few ribs. Great. 

“We’re gonna flip you over now, okay?” 

Eddie gives Chim a thumbs-up, and then he’s being rolled onto his back and everything hurts just a little bit more, except for his chest, which feels like it’s been lit on fire. 

“Think…I broke a couple ribs,” he manages to get out, after a few seconds.

Hen pulls up his shirt and then presses a hand to his left side. He has to fight to keep from screaming. He digs his fingers into the dirt beneath him and tries to breathe but of course that doesn’t make the pain any better. She repeats the process on the right and he almost passes out. He isn’t sure if the wetness on his face is from the rain or from tears. It hurts so bad. 

Hen makes a sympathetic noise. “Almost definitely broken,” she reports. “They’ll confirm at the hospital.”

“And you’re going to the hospital.” This is Buck. Eddie can’t quite see his whole body - he’s off to the side, to let Hen and Chim work - but he can picture the look on his face. Worry. He doesn’t like that. 

“Okay,” he agrees, easily. He doesn’t like the hospital, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he has to admit that some strong painkillers wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world right now. 

--

Forty five minutes later, he’s sitting on an examination table waiting for a doctor to come back with news on his x-rays. He’s lost his shirt - they’d cut it off to examine him, since he hadn’t been able to move his arms enough to get it off himself. He wishes they’d given him something else to put on. He’s kind of chilly, and more to the point, he really doesn’t like having to see his horribly bruised chest.

He doesn’t like having Buck see it, either, but he knows there’s no chance of getting him to leave. Not that he can blame him too much - he sure wouldn’t want to, if their places were reversed - but the attention is a little overwhelming. Buck keeps looking at him and Eddie wants to reassure him and say it’s not that bad but he doesn’t think it’ll do any good. 

“Hey,” the thought strikes him out of nowhere. “I don’t have the phone. Did you get it back to the kid?”

Buck blinks at him. “The phone?”

“Yeah. He get it?”

“It fell out of your pocket when… Yeah. He has it. Screen’s shattered, though.”

“That’s good. That he has it.”

Buck shakes his head. “If he hadn’t left that stupid phone…”

“Buck.”

“Look at yourself, Eddie! Your whole chest is purple. What if…”

“I’m okay, Buck. I’ll heal.”

Buck sighs. “I know you will. I just…”

“I know.” It’s not like Eddie’s never been on the other side of this kind of conversation before. Not like he’s never felt the same way he imagines Buck’s feeling now. 

A knock at the door interrupts them. The doctor steps in, and Eddie and Buck both look at her expectantly.

“You’ve broken your first, third, and fourth ribs on the left side, and the first and second on the right,” she says. “They haven’t punctured anything, fortunately, and you’ve managed to escape any other injuries.”

She hands him a pamphlet with the title Caring For Your Fractured Ribs. “Here’s a pamphlet on at-home treatment - there’s really not a lot we can do beyond prescribing medication for the pain, unfortunately. Your ribs will heal on their own in about six weeks.”

Eddie nods. The doctor explains the basics of what he can and can’t do for the foreseeable future and tells him she’ll call in a prescription for pain meds, which he can pick up in a few hours. 

“In the meantime, your partner here can take you home. Just try to rest and make sure you take a deep breath and cough every hour, okay? Other than that, you’re free to go. Please call us if you have any questions or if the pain gets worse.”

And then she leaves, just like that, before Eddie even opens his mouth to say he’s not my partner, not like that, we’re coworkers, we’re friends. He looks at Buck, expecting…something, but Buck just shrugs and asks, “ready to go?”

 “You don’t have to take me home,” Eddie says, immediately. 

“Remind me again which one of us drove over here in our own car and which one of us arrived by ambulance?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Besides, I’d take you home anyway. No way you’re driving like this.”

Buck does have a point, he has to admit. The idea of driving sounds about as appealing as that whole breathe-and-cough thing the doctor had instructed him to do. 

“Thanks.”

“Anything for my partner,” Buck says with a grin. “But seriously, Eddie, don’t mention it.”

Eddie nods distractedly. Anything for my partner. He knows Buck’s only joking, but. He kind of doesn’t want him to be.

Shit.

thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed :)

[megslovesbooks]

Fuck it Friday

Thanks for the tags @onward--upward, @elvensorceress, @messyhairdiaz, and @spotsandsocks!!!

I really am sorry about this…it’s genuinely the only thing I’ve been working on that I haven’t already posted. Lol. More Piano Eddie AU that probably won’t see the light of day. 😬😬😬

It’s a lot of blood, too much. He can feel it sluicing hot and thick down his back, smearing across the wallpaper as he slides to the floor. There are voices, pounding footsteps, but he can’t wrap his head around any of it. It’s not like last time, then there had been too much sound and pain and fear, sand and smoke and the taste of blood in his mouth. Now it’s empty. This time there’s no pain, just the feeling of hot pressure in his chest, the buzz of static in his ears and behind his eyes.

Something presses hard against his shoulder, and a sound he’s not entirely in control of slips from between his lips.

“Sorry.” Someone murmurs, “God Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

He blinks and Buck is crouched before him, pale and shaking. He’s stripped out of his outer shirt so he can use it to try and stop the blood pouring out of Eddie’s shoulder and his white undershirt is splashed red. Is that his blood? Eddie can't tell. Panic rips through him, the adrenaline of it sharpening his senses.

“Buck.” He wheezes, the word tastes like metal on his tongue. “Buck.”

“I’m here sweetheart.” Bucks face is pinched in the garish hallway light, “I’m right here. Stay with me.” There’s a smudge of blood on the side of his throat, right over the place Eddie loves to press his lips in gentle kisses. That’s all wrong. Buck shouldn’t be bleeding, not again, Eddie can’t let that happen. He tries to move, wants to put his hands on Buck, make sure he’s whole and unharmed, but his body is so heavy, even speaking feels impossible. He does it anyway.

“Are you hurt?” Eddie must manage to press the words out in some sort of order because Buck’s face twits into something broken as he glances down at his blood streaked shirt and hands. He’s upset. Eddie doesn't want him to be upset.

“No no, I’m OK Eddie You just hang on….”

He tries to reassure Buck that he’s not going anywhere, but there’s something cold creeping into his chest, something final and heavy. Understanding stabs through him in a flood of icy dread. He knows this feeling. He’s dying. He’s bleeding out here in the middle of a hotel hallway. Its too much blood and he’s going to die. He’s going to leave the people he loves behind and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Chirs.” He tries to say, but his mouth is full of hot and bitter liquid, he can feel it spilling out over his lips.

They say we need to put pressure on the exit wound.” Chim says, and oh thank god he’s ok, “Let’s get him on his back.”

There are hands on him, moving his body in ways he is no longer capable of, warm palms cradle his head with a tenderness that makes him want to cry. Maybe he is, he can’t tell.

“I’ve got towels.” Another voice, Karen this time, says. “Stay with us Eddie.” Eddie blinks, then has to fight to get his eyes back open.

“I’ve got this Buck, keep him talking.”

“Chris.” Eddie tries again–this is important, its the most important thing. Buck must understand him because his face swings back into Eddie’s field of vision.

“He’s safe.” Buck says, “He’s home.” But Eddie knows that, its not what he’s worried about.

“Chris–and you. You…and…him…together…” He’s not saying what he wants…can’t make his mouth form the right words, but he can see as understanding blooms across Buck’s face.

“Yeah.” Buck says, and there are tears streaking down his cheeks now, dripping off the bottom of his jawline. He’s so beautiful Eddie aches with it. “Yeah Eddie. I promise. But you have to fight OK, you’re so strong. You have to fight.”

Is he? He doesn't feel very strong. He never has.

“911 says the ambulance is three minutes out”

“Hear that? They’re so close Eds, I need you to hang on.”

He wants too. God, he wants too. He doesn't want to leave them, any of them, behind. He loves this life they’re building, his beautiful son, his family, Buck, his friends, the music…it saves his life…he’s been given so much and he wants to cling to it for as long as he can. But his vision is going gray and he’s so cold, and he knows the universe is never kind.

It takes every last ounce of energy he has left, but he can’t go without saying it.

“Love you.” The words are thick like syrup, frail like gossamer. The truest thing he knows.

“I love you too.” Buck croaks, he sounds ruined. Eddie is sorry he’s the reason.

Sensation begins to drop away, he has no body, no sight, no speech left in him.

“Stay with me Eddie.” Buck says, his voice a desperate whisper. “Please. Please baby, don’t go.”

Eddie tries. But the darkness takes him anyway.

[satashiiwrites]

wip wednesday

tagging @monsterrae1 @rosieposiepuddingnpie @whimsyswastry @missanniewhimsy @outtoshatter @tkwritesdumbassassins @tiny-reader and anyone else who wants to play along. No pressure as always.

Title: Family, Familia, ‘Ohana: Chapter 14: The Eddie Will Go

Fandom: 911, H50, SWAT

Pairings: Buddie, McDanno, platonic Deacon/Hondo

Fic summary: When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him.

Tags/warnings: first draft. We’re getting close to done with this fic. NavySeal!buck. Long fic. Probably going to have a smattering of sequels.

Waking up wrapped in Buck is the best thing ever.  Limbs sleep heavy, Eddie is only partially awake when Buck shifts in his grip, the room lowly lit by the rising sun.  He wants to luxuriate in the feeling of waking up like this, the bedsheets tight around them until there’s no space, bodies warm from shared heat. By preference, Eddie would sleep until noon on his days off.  

Buck, however, rises with the sun as does Christopher. 

“Cariño,” Eddie protests as Buck stirs, shifting around in bed. “Another hour?”

Buck grunts and settles for a moment before Eddie hears it. 

Knock. Pause.  Knock knock. Pause. Knock. 

“It’s Steve.  We usually go for a swim before now,” Buck whispers, hand rubbing Eddie’s shoulder soothingly but he doesn’t make to leave.  

“Yeah,” Eddie says weakly. Buck’s mentioned that this daily swims work out a lot of his anxiety and the routine has been useful. 

“I can stay,” Buck assures him, the words teasing the hairs on Eddie’s nape from where Buck is using his shoulder as a pillow. “Steve’s just letting me know he’s going.”

“If Steve’s here then Danny can’t be far behind,” Eddie points out, still only half awake. 

Buck shrugs, the move causing their bodies to slide teasingly together but Eddie’s not an exhibitionist and he knows Buck really gets a lot out of his morning swim. 

Letting Buck go for a swim would also let Eddie sleep in another hour or so. 

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

Buck hesitates.  “Kind of.”

“Yeah?” Eddie prompts, waking up a bit more at Buck’s tone. 

“I’ll do better all day if I do,” Buck confesses reluctantly. 

“Then you should go.”

“Eds, I—“

“If you’ll feel better, then you should go.  I’ll be here when you get back.”

Buck shifts just enough so he can see Eddie’s expression, his own conflicted and Eddie can see the urge to go for a swim warring with the desire to stay in bed. “You’re okay with that?”

“I want you to have a good day.  If going for a swim makes you have a better day, we can cuddle later.”

Buck frowns as he thinks, sticking his lower lip out and chewing on it, which Eddie shouldn’t find adorable but does. “But it’s our first morning.”

“Then maybe you should go for your swim and then crawl back into bed with me.  You can wake me up?”

“The water is a bit cold this time of day,” Buck teases.  “You could warm me up after?”

“I’d love to warm you up after,” Eddie agrees. “Go before Steve leaves you.”

Grinning, Buck gives him a peck on the lips that makes Eddie regret being so understanding and then moves off of him.  The tingle of blood flow returning to his limbs that have gone numb from Buck’s weight slows Eddie enough that all he can do is appreciate his lover’s movement as he bends over and retrieves a pair of board shorts from the lowest dresser drawer and shimmy into them.  

“I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“An hour.”  Eddie will be counting down the minutes.  He needs to get his hands back on those sinful hips that have way too much skin on display with the board shorts that only cover Buck to above the knee but hang low on his hip bones.

Eddie left marks on those hips and the primitive caveman part of him wants to purr in satisfaction at having marked Buck up.  

Read the currently published chapters on AO3

[helpisawareness-bamiamcolo]

For Parents: Advice about Fentanyl

Fentanyl is a powerful synthetic opioid that can cause fatal overdoses in very small doses. It is often mixed with other drugs or sold as counterfeit pills, making it hard to detect and avoid. Fentanyl is especially dangerous for teens and young adults, who may not be aware of the risks or how to prevent them. Here are some questions and answers about fentanyl and how to protect yourself and your loved ones from its deadly effects.

What is fentanyl and why is it so dangerous?

Fentanyl is a synthetic opioid that is up to 50 times stronger than heroin and 100 times stronger than morphine. It is a prescription drug used to treat severe pain, but it is also illegally made and sold on the streets. Fentanyl can be found in different forms, such as powder, liquid, nasal spray, eye drops, or pills. Some street names for fentanyl are Apache, Dance Fever, Friend, Goodfellas, Jackpot, Murder 8, Tango & Cash.

Fentanyl is so dangerous because it can cause an overdose very quickly and easily. Even a tiny amount of fentanyl can be lethal, especially for someone who has not used opioids before or has a low tolerance. Fentanyl can also be mixed with other drugs like heroin, cocaine, methamphetamine, or marijuana, or made into fake pills that look like prescription opioids. This means that people may not know they are taking fentanyl or how much they are taking. Fentanyl can also interact with other substances, such as alcohol or benzodiazepines, and increase the risk of overdose.

How does fentanyl affect the body and brain?

Fentanyl works by attaching to opioid receptors in the brain and spinal cord, which are involved in pain relief and pleasure. Fentanyl can reduce pain and produce feelings of euphoria, relaxation, and calmness. However, fentanyl can also slow down breathing and heart rate, lower blood pressure, and cause drowsiness, confusion, nausea, vomiting, constipation, and itching. In high doses or when mixed with other drugs, fentanyl can cause respiratory depression, which means that breathing becomes shallow or stops altogether. This can lead to brain damage, coma, or death.

What are the signs of a fentanyl overdose and what should I do if I see one?

Some signs of a fentanyl overdose are:

- Small, constricted "pinpoint pupils"

- Falling asleep or losing consciousness

- Slow, weak, or no breathing

- Choking or gurgling sounds

- Limp body

- Cold and/or clammy skin

- Discolored skin (especially in lips and nails)

If you think someone is overdosing on fentanyl or any other opioid, you should act fast and call 911 immediately. You should also try to keep the person awake and breathing by shaking them gently, rubbing their chest, or giving them rescue breaths if you know how. You should also administer naloxone if you have it available.

What is naloxone and how does it work?                            

Naloxone is a medication that can reverse an opioid overdose by blocking the effects of fentanyl and other opioids on the brain. Naloxone comes in different forms, such as a nasal spray (Narcan), an injection (Evzio), or an auto-injector (Kaleo). Naloxone is safe and easy to use by anyone who has been trained on how to use it. Naloxone can be obtained from pharmacies without a prescription in most states. You can also get naloxone from community organizations that provide overdose prevention services.

If you suspect an opioid overdose, you should follow these steps to use naloxone:

- Call 911 and tell them you are with someone who has overdosed on opioids.

- Check for signs of breathing and a pulse. If there is no breathing or pulse, start CPR if you know how.

- Give naloxone according to the instructions on the package. Spray one dose into one nostril if using Narcan nasal spray; inject one dose into the outer thigh if using Evzio injection; press the device firmly against the outer thigh if using Kaleo auto-injector.

- Continue CPR if needed and wait for naloxone to take effect. It may take 2 to 5 minutes for naloxone to work.

- If there is no response after 2 to 5

Brian D Makowski and  Damien Willburn

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