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#i was able to stand with my cane but was having back pain and it's always way easier and more comfortable for me to just be in
blackpearlblast · 5 months
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PSA: if you have a counter that is low enough that a wheelchair user would be able to use it (already rare) DON'T cover the front of the counter with hangers for cute little keychains. I can't pull my wheelchair up to the counter without impaling my legs. thank you.
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bunn-iiii · 1 year
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i kinda don't want to go back to camp but some of my stuff is still there
#so basically i have to go home every weekend (go home Friday after lunch go back sunday after lunch)#which means i have to go back tomorrow#and all i want to do is talk to the silly people on my phone and not be extremely misgendered and unable to correct people#cause telling campers my pronouns isn't camp appropriate.#sometimes this camp makes me want to die a little#but i already paid for the three weeks and i don't want to just waste that money#and i have some fun#but it kinda sucks to be there without my phone and it's hot out and i get misgendered and asked why i have a cane and told to get over my#meltdowns by another C.I.T amd there's never ang silemce except when I'm sleeping and the food isn't great and my schedule has to completely#change for it and i have to go to bed early and i have to stand the sun to lead songs and I'm almost always moving or standing and everyone#is loud all the time and singing during meal times is hell cause the lodge echoes so it's just really loud and i cried 4 times last week and#had about 2-3 meltdowns in five days#and I'm exhausted from it and i can't do what i used to love doing at that camp because it causes me so much pain#and no other person at the camp has mobility issues besides the 70 uear old CIT director that very obviously doesn't fully believe i need my#cane or to sit down frequently or take breaks#so yeah I'm a bit overwhelmed#not to mention i don't even know if i want to be a counselor at that camp anymore because of the whole pronouns thing#the media director said i might be able to join the media team they want to put together#and i really love this camp cause I've been going to it for so fuckin long and I've wanted to be a counselor here since my first week as a#camper#but it's all a lot#and i don't know if i should take a stand and be like “nope I'm not gonna let you treat me like this you just lost a future employee” or#just suck it up?#i hate breaking promises i made to myself in the past#and i told myself i was gonna be a counselor here no matter what#but i just dont know if i can take all that bs all summer every summer#ugh#tw vent
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nope-body · 1 year
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#I hate how I don’t trust my parents to be okay with my chronic pain to the extent where instead of texting them to ask them to grab me an#ice pack I waited until I stopped uncontrollably shaking enough that I could limp to the kitchen and back using my cane and the walls#and while they probably would have gotten me an ice pack that would have been it#it would have been here’s the ice pack. maybe can I do anything else to which the answer is no and then they would have just left#if I texted them right when I was able to I would have been on the floor shaking and crying from pain.#their reaction would have been to walk away once they did what I asked#and I’m not saying this based on nothing. I’m saying this because that is exactly what has happened every other time I have been stuck on#the floor in pain and needed a hot water bottle or ice pack or medicine or whatever#I would get it and then they’d leave again and tell me to ask them if I need anything else#there’s never any compassion or trying to make me more comfortable or just being with me so I’m not stuck on the bathroom floor for who#knows how long alone and in pain and miserable. there was never any comfort or compassion#and it hurts so much more than the physical pain I’m in right now#and I don’t want to deal with that again#so I chose to go get the ice pack myself despite not being able to use one of my legs because the alternative is worse.#being actively left to suffer alone is worse than choosing to be alone and in more pain#and that sucks. realizing that sucks#and I’m out of water and I was already lightheaded and now I’m crying and I need to get more water but I can’t stand#for so many different reasons and I just want to live with someone I can trust. someone who will care
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peachesofteal · 10 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Your apartment floods. Inspired by and for @liliumbosniacum
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"I need to take leave."
Simon's phone is pressed against his face, one hand holding the device, the other with a canvas bag in his hand, it's contents overflowing: blankets, baby clothes, your pillow.
"Everything alright?" Price sounds suspicious, but more curious than anything, and Simon sighs.
"Neighbor's flat flooded. She's got nowhere else to go so I'm letting 'em stay with me for a while." Price, thank fucking god, doesn't push it any further, disconnecting with a rumble about checking in with him next week, wishing him a happy holiday, and a parting good luck.
When he hangs up, you're standing hesitantly in his doorway, pile of clothes in your arms.
"That the last of it?" He asks, and you nod.
"Are y-you sure this is okay?" You're still upset, shaken, and he doesn't blame you. You were terrified when you woke up to bone chilling, ankle deep water, frantically shouting about a burst pipe into the phone over Emmaline's shrieks.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I've got plenty of room." He does. His flat is larger than yours, and though they're both two bedroom floor plans, his bedrooms are bigger, and he has two bathrooms, compared to your one. "I got the crib reassembled in the guest room." He motions to the door that's half opened, a few bags of Emmaline's stuff collected on the floor.
"Thank you." you murmur, and then step forward, burying your face in his chest. He holds you there, rubbing your back, working his thumb into the knot that sits at the base of your neck. “At least we saved the tree,” you laugh, wet and sad, and he hums, bowing to press his lips to your forehead.
“I’m sorry love.”
“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Nothing I could control.” You’ve got a point there, and he appreciates the approach, marvels at your ability to not be angry or frustrated with your neighbor, even though it wasn’t really their fault as well. He’s irritated for both of you, anxious over visualizing what would have happened if the chunk of the ceiling that fell was misplaced and landed on you, or Emma.
You pull away, face twisted up into something that looks painful, tears on your lash line, and he frowns. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart, c’mon. It’s alright.”
“I know.” You cry, clamping your hand over the bridge of your nose and trying to turn away. “It’s just all her gifts we-were in my room and now they’re ruined, and-“
“Okay, so we’ll get more. We still have plenty of time.” He reassures, rubbing his palms up and down your arms until you come back to him, letting him fold you back into his embrace. “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
“We will?” You sniffle, and he nods.
“I’m on leave, until after the holiday, so I’ll be around, we can go shopping and replace everything. It’s going to be alright. I promise.” That word slips out of him again, promise. I promise, just like he told you this morning when you were frantic and he said it was okay that you stayed with him, I promise, just like he assured last night when you apologized for Emmaline crying for most the evening. “Okay?” His chin rests on the top of your head, and he turns to kiss you, the touch as soft as he can manage. You hum, and then sigh into him.
“Okay Simon.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No.” His refusal is immediate, and you look at him in near exasperation.
“Simon I can’t kick you out of your bed! You’re too big for the couch, anyway, and I don’t mind, I’ve slept on a couch plenty. Plus I’ll be able to hear better, when Emmaline wakes-“
“Sweetheart.” You’re in the living room, bouncing Emmaline in your arms, walking back and forth in front of the fireplace. She’s wearing a red and white striped onesie, like a candy cane, and Simon chuckles when she makes grabby hands at him as he approaches. You sigh, and he tucks his hands under her, lifting her away and into his arms, pleased at how you instantly relax and stretch your back and shoulders in response. “Think you’re getting too big for mama, baby girl.” You roll your eyes, playfully knocking your elbow into his side, and he grunts. “You’re not kicking me out of my own bed.”
“No?” You turn with a hand on your hip, other one holding a half full bottle.
“No, well. I mean-“ he falters, suddenly losing his confidence. “I’m happy to let you have it, or…” He can’t get the words right, can’t communicate what it is he wants to tell you, too worried about scaring you off or being too forward, pushing you too far.
“Or?” You look so pretty, standing in his flat, your belongings, Emma’s, strewn about, just your presence alone making this place feel more like a home than it ever has before. He feels dizzy, overflowing with emotion when Emma lays her head down on his chest, and you smile at her, looking back up at him, delicate, sweet smile on your lips. He bends, tilting your face upwards to meet his, lips ghosting against one another as Emma coos from his arms.
“Or… we can share it.”
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ms-demeanor · 7 months
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fully understand and agree about reiki and prayer and herbs and the rest of that bullshit, but i'm a little confused as to how chiropractic care got lumped in with those
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Chiropractors are quacks, full stop.
There is nothing that a chiropractor can do for you that a physical therapist couldn't do better or that a massage therapist wouldn't be able to assist with.
There are specific conditions that can cause joint subluxation, but unless you have one of them, your joints are probably perfectly fine where they are and if they are not that is something that would be better (and more safely) assessed by someone who is actually qualified to provide some variety of medical care (which chiropractors are not, they are licensed to provide chiropractic care, which is pseudoscience on your spine, which is a bad place to do pseudoscience). And if you do have those conditions you shouldn't let a chiropractor touch you with a ten foot pole because you are at even *more* risk of harm from spinal manipulation than the general population is.
When I was in college and didn't have health insurance and was working at a coffee shop I couldn't afford $150 out of pocket to go see a doctor, but I could afford $45 to see a chiropractor.
What the chiropractor didn't know - because she wasn't a doctor and didn't have the diagnostic tools for this kind of thing - was that I didn't have back pain because my spine was out of place, I had back pain because I had a bone tumor in my spine, and her adjustment fractured one of my lumbar vertebrae.
When I did get insurance I finally figured out what was wrong (after using a cane and dealing with excruciating back pain from my cracked spine I had to quit my job at the coffee shop because I couldn't reliable stand on shift) when I got an MRI. The pain was treated with muscle relaxants, oral steroids, and physical therapy, none of which would have broken my fucking back.
Chiropractic, even when practiced "competently" by an expert with the most modern and most rigorous scientific training available, is still more dangerous and less effective than other interventions. All of which is aside from the fact that there are a shitload of chiropractors out there who will claim to treat asthma and autism, which they can't do and are shitty for claiming to be able to do.
Top to bottom, all through its history, chiropractic is a scam that hurts more people than it helps and because of our fucked up medical care in the US specifically has been largely predatory on people who can't afford real treatment for their illnesses and injuries.
Also, if you are ever going to see a chiropractor - though i wish you wouldn't - never, ever, ever, EVER let them manipulate your neck. Chiropractic spinal manipulation of the neck can lead to severing the arteries in your neck, causing a stroke. This HAS killed people, and as long as chiropractors keep doing it, it will kill more people.
Fuck - and I cannot emphasize this enough - chiropractic.
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pumpkinspicedmochi · 8 months
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I feel like people really need to accept and realize that old people do not have the monopoly (?) on disability , mobility aid usage and chronic illnesses . They expect that since you're young you should be able to do things that abled people can do, whats wild is that I've had that response even from abled people who know I'm physically disabled like my mom going "you're young , you have a young back so you can do -insert random thing here- " or people telling me that walking and standing long is "good for you , you're young its not going to hurt you" bruh I have chronic pain , standing and walking long does in fact hurt me ..shit even just existing hurts because my pain is all the time . Young disabled people aren't just "lazy" or "exaggerating" 😅 , its kind of like when you look up mobility aids in general or anything even related to them at all really you mostly just see pictures of old people with canes, crutches etc and I in my mind go "young people can be disabled too.." .
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butchtheworld · 9 months
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crip tips
i'm an experienced disabled person (EDS, CFS, POTS, chronic pain). here are some of the things that help me get by as a college student (note: i use a wheelchair and a cane most days. i also am fortunate enough to have decent medical care, meds, and my aforementioned mobility aids)
shower chair. i can't stand for long enough to shower, and especially not if it's a hot shower. i got a cheap one off of amazon that has three legs and a plastic seat. that plastic seat makes it super easy to keep clean. i know there's a weird sort of embarrassment about sitting in the shower, but PLEASE, it is so much better than sitting on the floor in the shower or falling. in my dorms, there are two (2) showers with fold-down seats. i put a small towel down on the seat so i'm not bare-ass on this dorm bathroom surface, then i wash it down after.
normal wheelchair gloves are fingerless, which suck for winter. BUT, winter cycling gloves have the same cushioning on the palms and grip material and fingers. they're not super warm, but throw on a pair of thin gloves underneath (or, if you're like me, propelling keeps your hands super hot anyways).
an ice pack on the back of your neck can help with migraines and dizziness. i keep a small one in my freezer at all times. i tuck it into a hairband so it can be hands-free.
PLEASE adjust your cane/crutch/crutches to the right height. it helps so much with shoulder/elbow pain and balance. if it doesn't feel right, it probably isn't. the handle of my cane hits around the height of my wrist if my arm is just hanging down.
if you have hyper mobility, try high-rise shoes. i wear only high-rise converse and doc martens, which i can lace tightly around my ankles to keep them from rolling or sliding out of place.
(MENTIONS FOOD AND CALORIES) keep an easy, high-in-calorie food around. for me, eating on high pain days is essentially impossible. so, i need something that i can get myself to eat (like ice cream or canned soup or chips) that won't take any effort. ice cream is a great one for me, since it's sweet and cold and dense. even if it's not healthy, nothing is more unhealthy than not eating.
please, please, please find a community of disabled people. most of my close friends are able-bodied and, as much as i love them, they just can't understand it like other disabled people do. i found two great communities on my college campus, but i've also heard that support groups are a great way to meet people within the community
if you have any other tips, reblog with them. i remember the beginning days of my illness and how daunting all of this was. this is how we support our community.
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kittenlittle24 · 4 months
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A/n:
Recently started watching House MD and instantly fell deep into the fandom. Please forgive any mistakes, might be ooc, I didn’t write anything in a very very long time! As well as this is my first time writing a Gregory House imagine! Not good at writing summaries!
Summery: Reader and House used to date, and like a little boy now that someone else has his toy he wants it back.
Masterlist
The door to her office slammed open, she didn’t bother raising her eyes, “Yes Gregory?”
Frowning, “You know I don’t appreciate being called like that.”
She smiled, lowered the file she was reading onto her desk, and placed her hands on it, “Ah. Just like you know I don’t appreciate people barging into my office like that.”
He pulled out the chair opposite of her and sat down, he put his legs on her desk and started to play with his cane.
“Nice bling.”
She sighed and lightly smacked his feet, not wanting to hurt him but signaling to take them off.
“Are congratulations in order?”
She stayed silent for another moment, he wasn’t done, she figured.
“Though I really don’t understand why you would do something so idioti-“ he didn’t disappoint.
“House. Say why you are wasting my time or get out.”
Putting his legs down, he sat up, “5-year-old girl, fever, loss of appetite, irritability, and shortness of breath.”
“Did you run an EKG?”
Hitting himself in the head with a fake gasp, “Why didn’t I think about that?”
She got up and walked around the desk to open the door for him.
“You don’t need my consult, you know what it is. I don’t know what the hell it is you want from me, but I want you to leave.” She told him before returning to her desk and resuming her paperwork.
She heard him get up and limp to the door, only looking up when she heard it close, but just to see he was still there, her door closed once again and he was leaning heavily on his cane and looked deep in thought, eyebrows scrunched together and knuckles almost white from his grip on his cane.
“So expect me to watch you walk down the aisle, wearing all white and what?”
She leaned back in her chair and quietly replied, “I’m not sure why you think you’re invited.”
His mouth opened slightly and his eyebrows raised to a shocked expression.
“My fiancé doesn’t want me to invite an ex to our wedding.”
“Who cares what he thinks?” He yelled.
Getting up and walking to stand in front of him, “I do! And frankly, I understand him. House, you want to be miserable, fine, have at it. But please, leave me out of it! I’m done with whatever this is!” She answered with her hands moving between them.
“I don’t think you can be more done with me than not even inviting me.”
“You broke up with me! Don’t you get it? How could I marry another man when you’re sitting right there? I’m marrying him and then I’m leaving the hospital.”
“Leaving me,” he added defeatedly.
She nodded and looked down. Not able to look at his blue eyes.
“Marry me instead.”
Her eyes shot up to him, shocked and so each speechless.
“You don’t want to leave the hospital, you love me, I love you, I’m an asshole and you could tell me that everyday for the rest of my miserable life. Please, be miserable with me.” He asked in a low voice, half jokingly.
Against her better judgment, as if forgetting the pain he put her through when he broke up with her because she got too close and he was too afraid of intimacy and letting anyone break his walls down, she took his scruffy cheeks in her soft palms, raised his head to lock their gazes and whispered, “I guess I am an idiot.” Before she placed her lips on his, kissing him passionately, feeling his salt and pepper beard scratch her chin in the best way possible.
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janeyseymour · 7 months
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A story where R is really self conscious about their mobility aid (a cane if possible). Maybe one of the middle schoolers says something rude. And mostly a lot of comfort from Mel
i hope this is good enough because i wrote it in between teaching a bunch of first graders and babysitting two little gremlins
Lean On Me
WC: ~2.5k
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You had finally decided to bite the bullet and get your knee replaced after months of agonizing pain with a little nudge from your wonderful wife. You had hoped it would be replaced and healed by the time the school year started up again, but unfortunately that was not the case. You weren’t able to get it replaced until the end of July, and with class being back in session at the end of August, you’re still using the cane and you’re under pretty strict restrictions.
“Maybe I should just take a month’s leave until I can walk without this damned thing,” you mutter to yourself as you’re sitting in Melissa’s classroom while she finishes prepping her room for this year’s upcoming little eagles. “I don’t want the kids to see me with this.” You lazily gesture to the cane that’s next to you.
“That’s up to you, my love,” Melissa tells you as she passes you by to hang a new Eagles sign. “But I do think that you’ll be incredibly bored while you’re recovering and no one is around.”
She’s right. You’ll be bored out of your mind if you decide to take off for a month- especially without her to keep you entertained. And you know that you hate having subs; if the principal would even be able to find a substitute for you this late into the game. So you decide that you’ll just have to tough it out despite the fact that you’re incredibly self-conscious of having to use the mobility aid at such a young age. You get stares while you’re just in the grocery store and hobbling around with your wife (she tries to insist that you stay home and rest, but you tell her that you like spending the time with her and that you need to stay at least somewhat active).
Development days come and go, most of your staff and team doing everything they can to make life easy for you- Ava even going as far as spray painting your parking spot in the front so that she knows not to rent out the space during the Eagles barbecue that she holds every year (both you and Melissa thank her for that). Janine and Jacob help you to set up your classroom while Gregory finds different workouts that are supposed to help it heal faster on top of the rigorous physical therapy that you’ve been attending. And Barbara is there to make sure that both you and your wife were well-rested and eating- offering moral support in any way she possible can.
And so, the first day of school is upon you. The redhead insists on carrying your things to your room, and she sets a chair outside of the door for you to be able to greet your students when they come in. As your old students run past you to get to their new teachers, they give you the biggest and warmest hugs, telling you that they hope you feel better. You see Melissa standing outside of her door, greeting her new students with the same gusto that she always does, and then she looks over to you. She gives you a questioning look, and you nod and smile in her direction- quietly raising your mug filled with coffee in a toast. She reciprocates your action and blows you a kiss subtly.
You hobble your way back into the classroom and take a seat at your desk while the kids settle in and do the morning work that is on their desk. After morning announcements, you have them all gather on the carpet and explain to them how this year is going to work. One of them raises a shy hand.
“What’s up, hun?” you ask one of the girls.
She asks you hesitantly, “Why do you have a cane? I thought only old people have a cane.”
You smile at her gently. “Thank you for asking, sweetheart. Mrs. Schemmenti had a knee surgery over the summer, and I’m still recovering. I’ll only need it for another month, maybe a little longer. But while I have it, everybody needs to be careful and gentle. I can’t walk around much either, so I’ll be teaching from my desk for the time being.”
Your class is overwhelmingly supportive of this, and they are so sweet about asking if you ever need anything or if they can help pass out papers for the entirety of the morning. This group is a bunch of love bugs who make you get well cards when you give them a bit of free time while you’re waiting to be called down to the gymnasium for the beginning of the year assembly.
You’re incredibly thankful that Ava calls your grade first so that you can make your way down slowly and find a seat before anybody else can swoop in- the last thing you need is to have to stand in the back because all of the chairs are taken. You’re pretty sure if that happened, your wife would riot for you, but that isn’t necessary.
You have your kids take a seat, Melissa slides in next to you and takes your cane to prop it up against the wall, and then you settle in for whatever ridiculous first day of school assembly will present itself this year.
Because you were the first ones in, you’re also the last ones out. It gives you time to get yourself and your kids ready to head back to the classroom for the small break they have before they head to lunch.
But when lunchtime comes, you get swept up in the sheer chaos of trying to get your students to the cafeteria in time so that you have your full lunch break. There are the little ones who are walking through the halls with their eyes wide and full of wonder, your kids who are walking at a fast pace that you’re having a hard time keeping up with, and then there are the older ones who couldn’t care less that you’re attempting to make your way through the halls without bumping into anyone. It doesn’t help that half of the middle schoolers now tower over you.
In a rush, one of them knocks the cane out of your hand with their lunch bag and snorts with laughter. “I thought canes were for old heads!”
Another one of them shouts that you’ve really let yourself go, and maybe it’s time for you to go into early retirement if you can’t walk around without the help of your mobility aid.
You stumble without the crutch there to lean on, and you nearly fall until Melissa has looped an arm around your waist and is helping to hold you up. You lean against her heavily as you try to steady yourself again. She turns to shout at the two who were making fun of you, but they’re already swept up in the sea of children that are all wearing the same uniform. She doesn’t know who to yell at, so she quickly turns back to you.
The student that is standing next to you looks absolutely appalled and picks up your cane immediately. She hands it to you gently. “Are you okay?”
You nod and gesture for her to continue walking. Your students do as they keep their eyes trained on you to make sure that you’re okay.
Once all of your kids are in the cafeteria and you see that they are all seated and eating or in line to get a school lunch, you turn. Melissa is still right at your side, her arm still looped around you.
“Go enjoy your lunch, babe,” you tell her gently as you take her hand away. “I’m just gonna sit in my room for lunch if you wouldn’t mind bringing my kids back down with you when the period is over?”
“You don’t want to have lunch with us?” the redhead asks you quietly.
“I don’t know if I can make it down to the staffroom, and then the lunchroom, and back today,” you admit softly. “My knee is really hurting from physical therapy yesterday.”
“I’ll be down with your lunch,” Melissa promises. She squeezes your hand gently before turning on her heel.
You settle at your desk, and despite yourself willing the tears not to spring to your eyes they do. You wipe at them furiously. The comments from the older kids really shouldn’t be affecting you the way that they are. And you really would rather not have your wife see you shedding tears over their idiotic comments- you know she’ll be roping Ava into a manhunt to see who it was anyway, and it’ll only be that much worse for the students if she catches you crying.
Your wife comes in with both of your lunches and an icepack for you- not that you requested one. You quickly wipe your tears as you hear her heels hitting the tile underneath of her, but she still sees it.
“Hun, does it hurt that bad?”
You turn to her with a sad smile. “No. I’m fine,” you lie through your teeth, but your voice betrays you and it cracks ever so slightly.
She sets your lunch in front of you and pulls up two chairs. She gestures for you to set your leg up on the second chair as she sits int he one next to you.
“Mel, you really can go enjoy lunch with he crew,” you tell her gently. “I’ll be okay by myself.”
“Ice,” is all she says as she takes a bite of lunch. She sets the pack on your knee, and you flinch slightly as the cool sensation ripples through your body, sending a shiver down your back.
You sit there, and she watches worriedly as you don’t make a move for your lunch at all. 
“Babe, you have to eat,” she says softly.
You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself. “I’m not that hungry.”
“My girl? Not hungry?” the redhead teases you. “C’mon.”
You don’t know what happens, but something within you snaps. “When I’m not burning nearly as many calories as I used to because of this fucking knee, I don’t get as hungry!” You burst into tears again. “God, I never should’ve gotten it done, and then I wouldn’t need this damn cane!” You throw it across the room in anger before curling in on yourself.
Your wife is up and retrieving it in seconds, only for you to throw it past her again.
“Babe,” she warns as she picks it up again.
“I don’t fucking want it! I’m sick of everyone staring at the young woman who has to depend on a god damn cane to walk!” you cry.
“Is this because of-” she starts to ask you, but you cut her off. 
“I’m sick of being stared at in the grocery store, or when we decided to go to Hershey and I had to use one of the wheelchairs! I don’t want the kids to go home and tell their parents that I’m some poor, crippled woman who can’t teach standing up!” you choke out. “I- I just want to be normal again!”
“So help those kids who pushed past you,” she grumbles before taking her seat back and wrapping her arms around you. She kisses you gently. “It’s all part of the healing process. You’ll be back to running around in no time, and you aren’t going to be in as much pain.”
“It’s going to be at least another month before I can walk without the cane,” you yell, frustrated tears falling down your cheeks.
“And you know I’ll always be here to lean on, your kids will clearly do everything they can to help you, and you know the staff here has your back,” she tries to comfort you.
“I couldn’t even properly take my kids to lunch,” you sigh, and you hate how whiny you sound.
“So I’ll take them and bring them back for you with my kids,” your wife tells you. “That way all you have to worry about is getting to and from the staffroom.”
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “You already do so much for me.”
“And I will continue to do everything I can for you for the rest of my life,” she tells you with confidence. “When I said for better or for worse, I was serious.”
“I love you,” you whisper as the first genuine smile appears on your lips since the lunch incident.
“I love you too,” she mumbles as she leans in to kiss you. Then she pulls away and pushes your lunch towards you. “Now eat. I know you’re hungry.”
You pick up the fork and shovel some food in your mouth. So maybe you lied to Melissa when you said you weren’t hungry.
Come the end of the day, your wonderful wife picks up your kids and takes them out for dismissal while you ice your knee again. You see the kids off with a wave and a smile as they tell you that they hope you feel better soon. You’re given quite a few hugs, and a few drawings of you with the students are mixed in.
When you expect her to come back in once the kids are gone though, she doesn’t. And you can’t really leave without her because you can’t carry everything and navigate the halls with your cane just yet. You shoot her a text.
Did you forget about your crippled wife?
I’ll be down in a few, she responds quickly. Just chatting with Ava.
She’s telling the truth because the next thing you know, she’s in your room and grabbing your bags along with all of hers, and you’re heading out for the night.
“Why were you chatting with Ava?”
“Just had a few questions for her about this school year,” is all the redhead says. “Now let’s get going- you have physical therapy at 4:30, and then it’s an early night for the Schemmentis. I am wiped.”
The next morning, you and your wife are sitting and standing outside your classrooms getting ready to greet your students when two of the older kids come up to you. They hand you apology notes and hazard a glance at Melissa- they look terrified of her. She just folds her arms over her chest and smirks.
“Mel,” you sigh once they walk away. “I appreciate you defending my honor, but do not make two middle school boys look about ready to sh… their pants on the second day of school.”
“Nobody makes fun of my wife,” she shrugs. “Especially when it’s about something she’s already insecure about.”
“Is that why you were with Ava? You were looking at the security footage?”
Again, she shrugs. “Let’s just say, we’re having a school wide assembly next week about how we shouldn’t make fun of people who have mobility issues or any other sort of disabilities.”
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itsabouttimex2 · 5 months
Note
Ok, ok, HEAR ME OUT-
How about lmk Monkeifam and Bullfam with a Y/N who isn't afraid to throw hands —
Like i mean in a response to trauma or manipulation, becouse i fell it isn't explore enough in this situation -
Sure, your loved that you belived was a friend trapped /kidnapped/gaslight you is heartbreaking and of course you are gonna be sad and more incline to behave butttt-
There is always the other way of absolute rage that comes in once you realized you have been trapped/kidnapped /gaslight ecc- like i don't care anymore, i wanna throw hands, those people are death to me.(even thought this isn't the smarter choice considering the strenght of some of the people here) like them breaking Y/N down so they can comfort them to manipulate them, but then unsurprisingly the get the biggest smack/punch of their life . Just- wow the audacity.
Throwing Hands
Bullfam & Monkiefam
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“…is this some sort of pathetic attempt at ‘rebellion’, Y/N? I am not impressed.”
Your hands straight bounce. Like punching a bag of wet cement, the Demon Bull King’s skin just shifts around under your fists, never breaking or bruising. You only shatter yourself against it, leaving you worn and looking foolish.
He might not even punish you, given that it’s likely that you break a wrist on impact.
“Now, look what you’ve done to yourself, foolish child. Did you truly think your mortal flesh could stand a demon king’s might? Well, now you know better.”
You lost your temper and struck him. Immediately, you learn better than to do that ever again, and he considers it lesson enough.
Surprisingly merciful, all things considered. (Partially because he finds it somewhat funny.)
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I once said in my yandere alphabet that: “Red Son doesn’t want to waste his time doing something like caning or whipping you”. And though I think that viewpoint is usually true…
This changes that. It’s maybe the only situation where he would actively engage in any form of normalized torture “corporal punishment”.
Being physically attacked switches Red from ‘mildly reasonable, if a bit hair-trigger’ to ‘vicious and cruel’. Through brute force alone does he wrestle you into submission, binding your arms behind your back with a pair of metal cuffs.
He tosses you onto the nearest bed and couch before burning the lower half of your clothing off. He then takes up a thin metal rod to utilize in “disciplining” you, sharply lashing it down against your now unprotected skin. He’ll leave puffy, bleeding welts from the top of your rear to the bottom of your thighs, ensuring that you won’t even be able to think about walking for at least a week.
Problem is that not only does it not solve the problem of you being scared and angry, it also just… makes him feel bad afterwards. It breaks him, seeing you weep brokenly over his bed. Blood sluggishly trickles from the skin he’s lashed open, and you scream your lungs out into the sheets as you try to adjust to the pain.
And then he “has to” (wants to, in truth) settle in for some awkward form of aftercare, offering lotion and bandages. When you don’t accept, he forces you to drink a cup of honeyed tea loaded with sedatives because you won’t stop shrieking.
Antiseptic while you’re asleep, a few stitches here and there, then the lotion and bandages he tried earlier. And then a few cautious back rubs, trying to calm your fitful slumber.
“Gods, Y/N… what have I done to you? I… I was just… I was… no, I… I’m sorry.”
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An outright dodge. Princess Iron Fan has no time for your nonsense. For trying, she’ll lock you into whatever room has been set aside for you, barring the door with powerful magic.
One shallowly-filled bowl of food every two days, adding just a little bit more to it each day. One ceramic cup of room temperature water every four hours. A change of clothes every three days. Instead of brute force, Iron Fan teaches you through deprivation.
After a month of this, she might see fit you allow you back out of your room, letting you mingle with the family you have been forced to adopt.
After writing her a letter of apology, of course. Two pages. Pray you have the mind to keep your pencil steady.
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So very many tears to deal with, probably on both ends. MK knows that he’s doing isn’t all that great, sure… but it’s because he loves you!
Can’t you love him back, please? Ok, he’s been manipulating you! Maybe he’s been driving some friends away! Maybe he’s sent a few clones to tail you around the city! But, please, please- you can’t stop loving him! He just can’t risk having you hurt!
“Please, Y/N! You don’t understand! I’m just trying to keep you safe! You can hit me again, hit me as many times as you want! Just- please, Y/N… I need you. Please…”
His last resort is stuffing you in Shuilian Cave, given that you can’t escape with his or Sun Wukong’s help. Maybe a few ropes to keep you in place. He’ll cry with each knot tied, begging you not to hate him.
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Sun Wukong tanks your punch and gives your head a little pat, frowning at the display. “Sorry, bud. Trust me, I know I’m not exactly the good guy here. Go ahead and let it out. I… kinda deserve it, huh?”
The Great Sage knows you have every reason to be upset. Really, you do. All there’s only so much waylaying of emotions to be done, unfortunately. You were going to crack eventually.
He stands firmly in place, one hand rubbing your back while you break your fists against his body, watching you scream and cry. The man is just… unsurprised? He’s starting to realize that he messes up a lot of things.. So just letting you whale on him seems fair, gently trying to shush your angry tears while your skin grinds to bloody pulp against his shredded abdomen.
“How about I make us some tea,” he offers afterwards, surveying your destroyed hands. “And I’ll patch you up. Then… I think you’ve earned yourself an early bedtime for the rest of the week, bud.”
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“Oh, kiddo. Do you know what “screwing up” is? After this, they’re gonna put your picture in the dictionary as an example.”
Macaque does not tolerate having hands laid on him. Not by friends, not by enemies. And certainly not by his little student, who is supposed to be wide-eyed and placid, in awe of his every move and strike.
You are supposed to be sweet and respectful. You are supposed to be kind and loving.
And he’s sure that with a little bit of “training”, he’ll get you back to that disposition.
He’ll snap his fingers with an angry snarl, shadows springing all around you like cold wires. You are gagged with a cold ebon muzzle, both your hands locked inside a cuff of swirling black and purple. You want to act like an animal? Macaque will chain you to the wall by your new muzzle and treat you like an animal.
Maybe a few days spent so on a chain so short you can’t lay down will teach you better than to raise a hand against “the only person who even loves you, Y/N!” ever again.
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katz-rambles · 2 months
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Hi! I saw your requests are open and I’m wondering if I can get a little Viktor xFem!Reader fic? 🥹
Maybe some angsty/dead dove themes, and lots of fluff? Maybe the Reader is taking care of Viktor while he’s in pain and they end up cuddling? Anything you want is fine! 💖
TIA if you decide to write this!!
Awww, yess! This sounds so cute. Viktors, my personal favorite, so I had a lot of fun writing this!
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(fluff, angst(?) w/ comfort, gn!reader, this is it?)
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰
Your footsteps echo throughout the empty hallway as you try and get to your lovely boyfriend as fast as you can. You haven't been able to see him all day. he and Jayce have been cooped up in the lab all day long.
It's well past midnight at this point, and Viktor still isn't home. Usually, you'd just let him do his thing, but not tonight, not when it's getting closer and closer to one in the morning, and there's still no sign of him. All signs in your mind point to the worst. Maybe he had a fit today and is in the infirmary, or maybe he just got caught up in whatever he was doing. You pray it's the latter.
The door to the lab is unlocked, so he hasn't left yet. He'd never forget to lock it. Unless there was an emergency. Your thoughts are swarming with what might have happened, none of them good. You have to brace yourself for what you think you may see when you get inside the lab.
It's quiet when you first enter, you could hear a pin drop. You look around, desperately searching for Viktor, and there he is, on the ground. "Viktor!" You quickly rush to his side, kneeling to try and figure out what's happening. He's sitting on the floor, his head resting against one of the legs of the desk behind him. His hands are gripping his leg as he lets out a low groan. He looks up at you, tears pricking the sides of his pretty eyes, and his brows are furrowed as he leans his head back and groans again.
"Okay. I'm gonna get you up, and we're going to go.. somewhere." You brush a few stray strands of hair off his face, internally panicking as you try and think of where to go. "Not the infirmary," he sighs, looking at you once again, "I've already been there." His words just make you panic even more.
You wrap one of your arms around his back and slowly help him stand up. He clings to you as you both get on your feet. His legs are wobbly, and if you weren't there, you're sure he would have fallen by now. You both take smaller steps. There's a comfort in the sound of the footsteps that are echoed by the thumping of a cane. It helps you remind yourself that he's right beside you and that he's not going anywhere anytime soon.
You silently thank whoever is listening that your shared dorm is on the same floor as the lab. It's not a far walk either, but the walk feels like it's taking forever. Every time you start to move a bit too fast, you hear Viktor groan, and it has your heart hurting for him. You know how much he hates it.
You embarrassingly fumble with the keys for a few seconds before you can actually find the right one. "It's okay, dear, I'm right here." Viktor mumbles, taking one of your hands in his. You nod and take a deep breath, finally grabbing the right key and opening the door. You help him get in the bed and leave the room to let him get changed into more comfortable wear.
He opens the door, and you immediately go inside, crawling onto the bed to lay beside him. You rest your head on his chest, and you can feel his slim fingers curl around your shoulder, pulling you closer. From this position, you can hear his heartbeat. Each beat is a tell tale sign that he's still with you. His hand starts to rub your arm, and he kisses your forehead.
He leaves his head on the crown of your head, inhaling your scent. Letting both of you know that you're with each other. "Do you think you'll be able to get better?" Your voice wavers at the last few syllables that leave your lips. You feel the vibrations of Viktor chuckling. "I hope so, my love. I really hope so." He sighs, and you move your position so you can clearly see his face. Your hand is resting on his chest, and your finger starts to trace random shapes into his skin. Moving to outline the marks that adorn him.
"But.. ehh.. don't worry about that. Let's focus on the present." He whispers, his voice barely reaches you. You place a soft kiss on his lips and rest your head back on his chest. For now, all you can do is hope that someone, somewhere, finds a cure. Maybe one day they will.
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cripplecharacters · 2 months
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A character of mine uses elbow crutches (fantasy setting) due to chronic pain from poorly healed injuries on his legs. He used to dance as part of religious/spiritual ceremonies, would it be implausible of him to try and develop a way of dancing that might work for him since it's very important to him? Can people with canes/crutches still ride horses? Would it cause them pain? More fatigue? What other ways might his injuries (he was beaten) affect his overall health and day-to-day life?
Hi!
You can dance with a cane or on crutches! Having him try to invent a dance style that's possible to execute with mobility aids sounds very cool :-)
He could also ride a horse! A lot of para-equestrians use crutches or wheelchairs outside of horse riding. If he can't reliably use his legs to communicate with the horse, he can use voice commands or saddle movements instead.
For the pain, it depends. There are some riders who are always in pain while riding, some that are in pain in specific areas (that can sometimes be accommodated - for example, someone with knee pain can decide to go without stirrups, some people tie their legs, etc.) and some are in less pain than when on the ground because their legs aren't weight-bearing. So it just kinda depends.
I'm not sure, but I'm assuming fatigue would impact him more than an able-bodied rider. I have poor trunk strength and use a cane to help me straighten my back - there wouldn't be anything able to help with that on the back of a horse. Also, horse riding is just tiring in general, so if he uses more energy to compensate while riding, he would be more tired afterward.
The last question is incredibly wide and kinda hard to answer due to that. If his pain is caused by standing, then he might always look for a place to sit, have a shower chair, take breaks to lie down, etc. If it's constant, then he might be unable to sleep (happens a lot) and have the side effects of that. Depending on how "advanced" your setting is medically, he could do physiotherapy and/or take some sort of painkillers.
If you have a more specific question re:last point, feel free to send another ask!
mod Sasza
Hi!
I use crutches for chronic joint and muscle pain and I dance. I don't always use my crutches while dancing since I modify to avoid pain and I find they get in the way, although it's certainly possible to dance while keeping the crutches on! Ways I modify:
I keep my dance schedule pretty light, two hours a week at most, to avoid overexerting myself. I never dance when I am significantly above my baseline pain. If something specific hurts more than usual but I feel mostly okay to dance, I try to adapt to be less "intense" in that area. That includes avoiding putting my full weight on hurting parts and making moves smaller or less energetic to avoid injury.
The exact adaptations that will help your character will greatly depend on the specifics of their injuries, but it's totally possible to dance with mobility aids and with chronic pain.
Mod Rock
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Text
This post is a shout out to all my chronically ill friends ❤️
"If you are in that much pain just go to the emergency room" 🤣🤣🤣 no, just no. The ER does not do what most people think it does. It exists for people who need to be stitched up or suddenly broke a bone. They do NOTHING for pain management and actually will verbally harass patients for going in and wasting their time. I know. I've been one of those patients harassed by the people who are supposed to help me.
"They gave you a referral to a specialist right? Are they going to see you next week then?" - it took 3 months for me to get an appointment with Neurology after getting the referral. Genetics took 2 months, cardiology was a month, and I'm still waiting to hear back from St. Louis about seeing a neurologist there (that referral was put in on August 9th). It takes months to get in to see these doctors, then they spend about 5 minutes (10 if you're lucky!) talking OVER you. Every visit is a fight against the doctors ego to see if you will actually get help this time.
"Maybe you should go to Mayo Clinic or some other place out of state!" - cool, who is going to take me? Who is going to take a few weeks out of their own life to drive me there and stay with me while the doctors do their thing? I can't see so I can't drive myself. I haven't worked since July because of being sick, so I can't afford a ride or place to stay.
"Can't you go a couple days without medication? I know the pharmacy ran out, but it really can't be that big of a deal right?" - I don't even know how to respond to this one. Seriously? The doctor put me on the meds for a reason. Most of them have serious and dangerous side effects when you go through withdrawal. Also depending on how long I'm without them, I have to start back at a lower dose and work back up to the dose I was originally on. Which means TWO prescriptions that I now have to pay for.
"Do you really need to bring your walker/cane with? It's annoying to try and get it in and out of the vehicle. Plus it just slows us down" - do you really need your legs with? It's annoying having to wait for you to put your shoes on. Plus when you wear those specific shoes you walk weird. If you can't stand someone using a mobility aid to help them get around then go find a new group of friends to do things with. I have just as much of a right to be able to go out and enjoy things as anyone else.
There are plenty more things I could add to this post but I'm exhausted.
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stayevildarling · 6 months
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I just found ur account and I wanna say how much I love your stories, especially the Cordelia×Wilhemina×Billie and reader ones ❤️ I wanted to ask if you could write one where both wilhemina and reader have had a bad day, and once they come home to their other girlfriends, wilhemina snaps at reader for something due to the bad day she had and reader snaps back which shocks them all? Maybe abit angsty with fluff at the end 💕
Wilhemina Venable x Cordelia Goode x Billie Dean Howard x Reader- Glimpse of us
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tw: angst, cursing
word count: 3.5k
taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay,@whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson,@isle-of-earle,@paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26
As you finally enter the familiar walls of your shared home, the weight of the day's troubles seems to hang heavy on your shoulders. Despite your best efforts to shake off the stress from work, it clings to you. Billie and Cordelia are quick to notice the tension, you entering the academy first, Wilhemina following behind with an expression that almost would have scared them, if they didn't know the redhead so well by now.
"Hey there, love," Cordelia greets you softly, her voice infused with concern as she invites you to take a seat.
You manage to nod weakly in response, not trusting your voice to betray your frustration. Billie, ever perceptive shoots you a sympathetic glance, before looking over at Wilhemina, hesitating whether to take a seat or leave to the comfort of her own office.
,,Come on, I made dinner, love'' Cordelia tries gently, somehow convincing the redhead to sit down.
The meal feels dreadful, the awkward tension in the air, not only making you and Wilhemina uncomfortable but evenly your two blonde girlfriends. Cordelia tries for a while, to make conversation and include you and Wilhemina, barely coaxing any words out of either of you two, you not daring to look up at your redhead girlfriend after the events from today.
Sighing in frustration, Billie eventually breaks the silence, not being able to stand the silence ,,Okay, what is going on you two?'' she questions, her gaze flickering between you and the redhead. Wilhemina doesn't look up, she simply continues her meal as if nothing happened and it infuriates you. Cordelia notices your tension, placing a gentle hand on your leg in an attempt to comfort you. Billie's eyes meet yours, pleading with you to fill them in, let them help, fix this palpable tension between you, usually filled with so much warmth, love and adoration.
And then Wilhemina's gaze meets yours, unexpectedly and right there you find yourself back in the events from earlier today, her intense gaze clouding your memory with her sharp words,
,,Why are you always breathing down my neck? Can't you see I'm trying to concentrate?'' Wilhemina snapped, the frustration very clear in her features and laced in her voice.
,,I'm sorry, I just wanted to help you, I thought we are supposed to be a team'' you began, trying to defend your actions.
Her gaze lingered on yours, knuckles turning white as she grips onto her cane hard ,,Well maybe if you actually did your share off the work, instead of constantly distracting me, we wouldn't be in this mess'' she snapped, her voice filled with venom.
You scoffed, trying to swallow your frustration and pain ,,Oh so now it's my fault?'' you spat, your emotions getting ahold of you. ,,Typical, you always find a way to blame me for everything''.
She rubs her temples in frustration then, hating for the way this escalated, not expecting your reaction and too stubborn to fix it now. ,,I'm not blaming you for everything but you're not exactly making things easier right now'' she carried on, her features already softening at this point, voice less filled with anger.
And usually, you would have faltered there, simply accepting she was in a mood and leave her to cool off for a bit. You would have never spoke again after that statement but today had triggered your mood in ways it never has and so with one final statement you end the conversation taking place in the redheads office. ,,Fine, I'll just leave you alone then. Maybe you'll appreciate it more when I'm not around to bother you'' you spat, on the verge of tears but doing your best to hide those.
,,Yeah, maybe I will'' she spat in return. You stood frozen in the spot for a moment, knowing this was your fault as you shouldn't have lowered yourself to her mood, shouldn't have talked back but it hurt. Her statement hurt and you missed the way her features softened as she saw tears sparkling in your beautiful eyes. You simply scoffed, turned around and left.
The two of you didn't speak for the remainder of the day, you did your own things in your office, working hard to ignore and forget about the argument with your girlfriend. You had always doubted whether it was a good idea to work with Wilhemina. She suggested it in the end, explaining how a position needed filling, one where she would be close to you and could keep an eye on you. And undeniably, she did just that. Making sure her bosses aren't anywhere too close to you as they couldn't be trusted. You did an immaculate job and the mishap that day definitely wasn't on you but the redhead couldn't keep her frustration in and when you kept asking and asking her what you could do to help, she snapped, assuming you would take it better, not expecting your reaction as she didn't calculate the fact, that maybe, just maybe you haven't had a good day either.
,,Wilhemina, what did you do?'' Billie snaps, her sharp voice bringing you back into the present. You didn't realise that you must have zoned out for a moment, only now realising your cheeks are wet, Cordelia looking at you with so much concern, so much worry.
,,And what makes you think this has anything to do with me?'' Wilhemina spits, meeting the blondes gazes before bringing another fork, full of food to her mouth.
But the medium was having none of her usual antics, unable to see her babydoll hurting. ,,Because usually Wilhemina, you and Y/N return from work giggling, hands and eyes all over each other'' Billie spits. Your eyes find Cordelia, not being able to stand the tension in the room, not wanting to drag them into the argument as well. The supreme notices how uncomfortable you are, quickly stopping the other two.
,,Enough'' she simply states, meeting their eyes with a silent warning and as Billie notices your shivering form, she complies, stopping but her redhead lover is far from stopping.
As Cordelia gently wipes the tears from your cheeks, you hear her voice ring through the air yet again. ,,Yeah that's right, let them coddle you again, poor girl'' she spits, her words causing for both blonde heads to snap into her direction.
Your chair scraps against the wooden floor, standing up, startling both Billie and Cordelia a little but the redhead enjoyed it, igniting your flames. She balances on her cane standing up, waiting for your next move.
,,You know what? fuck you'' you spit, Cordelia's eyes widening and Billie's jaw dropping, this definitely not like you at all.
,,I'm sick of it, you constantly treating me like shit at work, do you have any idea how much your words hurt me earlier? If you don't want me around to bother you fine- I won't'' you snap, your emotions bubbling out of you.
,,Y/N'' Billie exclaims, both in a scolding manner for raising your voice but equally shocked at your sudden outburst.
With a swift motion, Wilhemina steps forward, her expression a mixture of anger, guilt and pain. You aren't looking at her, keeping eye contact with Billie but out of the corner of your eyes, you see Wilhemina's hand move towards you but before she has the chance, you stop her, taking her wrist.
,,Don't you dare'' you spit, now looking into her eyes. The tension is thick, your words lingering in the air as well as the redheads actions.
A second later you let go of her wrist, and turn around, needing to cool off, a lump forming in your throat. ,,Y/N'' Cordelia tries, but you are long gone, banging the bedroom door shut after you made it upstairs.
The three of them remain frozen in their spots, Billie still sitting at the table, her mouth slightly ajar, not able to believe the scene she just witnessed. Cordelia stands frozen by the table, holding onto it for support, before approaching Wilhemina, who stands frozen in the same spot you had left her in, her arm not having moved since you let go of her grasp.
,,Darling'' Cordelia tries as she approaches her girlfriend, the redhead not being able to look into her eyes as her gaze falls to the floor. ,,I- I had no intention of-'' she begins but the supreme is quick to interrupt her, taking her hand into her own. ,,I know my love, I know'' she reassures, rubbing soothing circles on her lovers hand.
,,I wanted to -'' she tries again but the words get caught in her throat. ,,I know darling, you wanted to calm her down'' she finishes the words for her. ,,I know you didn't mean to hit her but she wasn't looking at you, don't go there please'' Cordelia tries.
Wilhemina falters under the blondes gaze, not daring to look at Billie, not wanting any judgement from the medium. ,,I'll be in my office'' she announces before walking off, her cane hitting the floor hard. And as Cordelia and Billie follow her with their eyes, they see how broken and tired their girlfriend looks, ascending the stairs. The weight of the situation very visible in her features and posture.
,,What the hell was that?'' Billie comments, making sure the redhead's office door bang shut before she begins.
Cordelia meets her gaze before her eyes fall to the floor ,,I don't know'' the supreme mumbles, feeling guilty for not having interjected this before it blew up the way it had. ,,She wasn't going to-'' Billie begins, playing with her acrylic nails in a nervous habit. ,,No'' Cordelia quickly interrupts, her features a little stern for Billie even suggesting that she would have hit you.
,,Should we go talk to them?'' Billie tries, walking over to the supreme and stroking her cheeks, in order to make the concern fade from her beautiful features.
,,I think Mina needs to cool off'' she argues, taking a deep breath. ,,Let's try with our babydoll then, hm?'' the medium replies and is met with an empathetic smile, before she nods in agreement.
----
There aren't a lot of times when you wish you could be a witch but right now was certainly one of those times. All you wanted to do was take the entire bedroom apart, smash things, kick and break things, let your anger out that way. But unfortunately you couldn't fix it all again with a flick of your wrist. And so instead you pace, back and forth, fists clenching and muttering angry words to yourself. You barely hear the door knock and you definitely don't acknowledge it, wanting to be left alone, no matter who was behind that door.
As the two blondes enter, they exchange a glance noticing your pacing, Billie actually finding it quite adorable as you rarely got mad or upset like this. But she remained serious of course, not wanting to upset you further.
,,Sweetheart?'' Cordelia begins gently, as she remains lingering by the door, not wanting to overwhelm you with their presence.
Halting your steps, you simply look at them, their worried glances upsetting you even further because the last thing you wanted was drag them into it.
,,Do you think you can talk to us babydoll?'' Billie tries next, taking a few gentle steps towards you. But you retreat, taking some steps away from her and for a moment Billie gets scared, not being able to handle rejection well.
,,No, this is between me and .. Mina'' you mutter out, sounding more moody than you intend to.
,,Darling, I worry that you two may need a little help sorting this out'' Cordelia tries, knowing for sure Wilhemina was stubborn and by your earlier outburst, she for the first time didn't trust you enough to fix this with the redhead without support.
,,Cordelia I don't need you to coddle me all the -'' you quickly stop yourself, forcing your eyes shut and cursing internally as to why you would let it out on the angels in front of you.
,,Delia I'm so sorry'' you quickly start but as you open your eyes, you already find her in front of you with a gentle smile. ,,I know darling, come here'' she invites as she opens her arms and right there you falter, allowing her to hold you, ignoring the thoughts of how Wilhemina was right about them coddling you and allowing it to happen.
After a little while, she scoops you into her arms, taking you over to the bed where you lay in her lap, Billie following and positioning herself next to you. ,,Can you tell us sweetie, hm?'' the medium tries again, her eyes twinkling with love and encouragement.
And then it spills out of, the horrible day you have had at work as Jeff and Mutt provoked you all day, sending you on all sort of errands and even one of them making you incredibly uncomfortable. Delia makes a mental note there, knowing that bit needed to be adressed at another time. How something in the production went wrong and they made you and Mina fix it. But only Mina really had the skills and despite trying your best you couldn't fix it and all you wanted was to help her. The words that followed after and the argument between you two. How you thought she was going to hit you, despite only seeing something out of the corners of your eyes, how you know she would never hurt you and how horrible you feel for making her feel that way.
By the end of your confession you are sobbing into Cordelia's chest, feeling horrible for being so stubborn and angry. Billie and the supreme simply hold you, drying your tears, whispering words of encouragement into your ears. And when you finally calmed down, Billie hooks your chin, wiping all your tears and giving you a soft smile, followed by a kiss on your forehead.
,,Sweetie that is all very understandable and I'm sure neither you nor Mina meant any of it, it sounds like a big misunderstanding'' she tries and your eyes simply wander to her lips, following her every word.
,,I want to talk to her'' you eventually mutter out, looking up at Cordelia, still holding you close. They exchange a glance, figuring you had calmed down enough by now, despite being a little worried about your other girlfriend and whether she felt the same already. ,,Sweetheart, would you like us or one of us to come with you?'' she tries but you shake your head and slowly climb out of her lap.
,,Thank you both'' you smile, a little shy and they simply give you a big proud smile, as they remain on the bed. However as soon as you shut the door, their worried gazes meet, unsure whether this would end well.
As you make your way to Wilhemina's office, assuming that's the only place where she would be, your heart bangs inside your chest, legs trembling a little as well as your hands. You take a deep breath, close your eyes for a minute, before your shaky hands knock on her door, quiet enough not to startle her but loud enough for her to hear you.
There is no reply and for a second you consider turning around, maybe she isn't ready yet to talk and needs some time to cool off. But then worry lingers on your mind, wanting your Mina to be okay but before you can think it over further you hear a quiet ,,Come in'' and you do instantly.
As you glance around her office, you notice the scattered documents on the floor, her cane on the floor, Mina sitting in her armchair. You assume she threw it across the room, hence the scattered things everywhere. ,,Mina, can we talk please?'' you try gently as you step towards the middle of the room. Before she replies you kneel down in order to pick up some of her things, off the floor, not wanting her to do it in the end and potentially hurt her back.
,,I'm not a child, I don't need you cleaning up my messes'' she snaps, but you ignore her, neatly putting the documents on her desk and reaching for her cane scattered somewhere. As you walk over, you place it next to her, ready to leave her alone again but she suddenly takes your hand. ,,You're bleeding'' she states and as you look at your palm you indeed notice a cut, bleeding down your wrist. ,,It's fine Mina'' you mutter out, realising you must have picked up a piece of glass as you collected the documents, probably from a glass or mug being thrown around.
As you try and withdraw your wrist, she meets your gaze, not letting go. ,,Let me'' she tries and as much as you want to tell her that you aren't a child in return, you simply let her guide you to the bathroom connected to her office. As you lean on the bathtub, inside her bathroom plastered in lilac, you watch as she carefully opens her medicine cabinet, several bottles of different medication neatly placed, before she withdraws the first aid kit. She pulls out a disinfected spray and a bigger bandaid before approaching you.
Her eyes meet yours and you see pain in them, guilt, fear and without thinking about it your non bleeding hand cups her cheek, taking you both by surprise. ,,I'm so sorry'' you whisper as she slightly melts into your touch.
,,This will hurt a bit'' she explains calmly before you extract your hand and watch as she takes care of the cut for you. In awe you watch how gentle her movements are, spraying some disinfectant on the wound, before gently wiping it clean and wrapping it up in a band aid. Her eyes scan your features, looking for any kind of pain or discomfort but there was none. ,,Thank you Mina'' you whisper as she places the first aid kit back into the cabinet.
,,I understand if you don't want to talk to me'' you simply whisper before giving her a thankful smile as you look at your hand. As you step out of the bathroom and towards the door, she stops you. ,,Y/N'' she tries, her features filled with pain, tears beginning to form in her dark brown orbs.
,,I'm so sorry for saying all those things to you'' you apologise, your eyes pleading for her forgiveness.
,,Did you really think I was going to-?'' she begins but you instantly stop her ,,No'' you reassure her, meeting her eyes as you make the statement.
,,I know you would never hurt me Mina and I'm sorry for overreacting'' you begin, explaining how you misread the signs and how you know now that she simply wanted to comfort you.
,,I don't want you to be scared of me'' she whispers, a tear streaming down her cheeks. ,,I'm not Mina'' you quickly reassure as you brush the tear from her perfect features.
A little while later, Cordelia is now the one pacing around the bedroom, Billie's attempts to calm her down failing with each try. ,,I'm sure they are fine'' Billie keeps repeating but the supreme couldn't help but worry. ,,Screw it, I'm going to check'' she states, leaving the room and Billie following after her rushed, her heels clicking on the floor as they walk down the tiled corridor.
As Cordelia opens the door, she finds you curled up in Wilhemina's lap, the two of you sitting in her large purple armchair in the corner. Neither of you are talking, as all the talking had been done, simply enjoying each others company as her fingers take turns from running through your hair and gently caressing the cut on your hand through the bandaid. You listen to her heartbeat, holding onto her for dear life, not wanting to let her go.
The supreme smiles, all the worry leaving her features. ,,Told you Ms Supreme'' Billie teases.
,,Would you like to go to bed, little one?'' Mina whispers gently, tilting her head a little to look at you.
You simply nod and leave her lap, instantly missing to be this close to her. Passing her the cane, she balances before you follow the two blondes to the bedroom. After you get changed, you lay down, Billie and Cordelia to your left and waiting for your Mina.
As she finally approaches the bed, you take in her features, hair down and one of your favourite nightgowns that you had bought for her. ,,Mina?'' you whisper as she comfortably positions herself next to you. ,,Yes my sweet girl?'' she whispers as her gaze meets yours. ,,Can you hold me?'' you ask and the way your question came out, causes for more tears to almost escape. ,,Come here'' she coos as you wrap yourself up in her arms.
,,And little one?'' she whispers softly, still trailing her fingers through your hair. ,,I never want you to leave me alone'' she admits, thinking back to the argument and her earlier statement. ,,I know'' you whisper before holding onto her, again for dear life.
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aurumacadicus · 10 months
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Oh boy (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)
--
Moving back to New York was one of the worst decisions Tony had ever made. He'd do it again in a heartbeat, of course. Supervillainous crimes always seemed to happen there and he wanted to help, so here he was in his tower that he shared with the Avengers, ready for the next call to action.
He just wished supervillains would take the winter off, so he could go someplace warm, like his Malibu house or South America or something. Hell, at this point he'd accept a trip to fucking Arizona. He'd fit right in there, he groused to himself, shaking hands curled around his coffee maker to try and soak up some of the warmth. All those old people.
Early onset arthritis. Tony eased one hand closed into a fist, wincing. He'd been diagnosed a decade ago after a particularly cold winter when he'd thought he'd had mono or something. "It'll get worse," his doctor had warned. Tony had staved off a lot of aches and pains by simply moving somewhere where the weather wouldn't affect his joints, and the pain was manageable with over the counter painkillers.
Here, in New York, with a blizzard blowing outside, Tony felt as if every degree the thermometer dropped was a twist of a knife in each and every joint, but especially his knees and hands. It was unfair. He had a state of the art air system, with his penthouse and workshop set to a perfect seventy-four degrees, but his body somehow knew it was sleeting outside and so was revolting.
He couldn't even pick up his coffee cup this morning. He'd needed to use his fucking cane to get out of bed.
The worst part was he could feel Steve's eyes on him like a physical touch. He'd never thought of the downside of sleeping with a super soldier until this morning, when he'd groaned as he'd forced himself to stand and found, to his horror, that Steve had forgone his early morning run to have a lie in with him. So Steve had seen the cane he'd needed to push himself to his feet, the extra padding on the handle to ease his grip, how Tony had come into the kitchen and grabbed a mug with extra wide handles on each side like a child's cup and then hadn't been able to fill it himself.
He wondered how long it would take Steve to decide his own body was a threat to the team and firmly but politely tell him to stop putting on the suit.
"Are you always in pain?" Steve asked quietly, finally coming over to pick up the coffee pot and pour him a cup.
"Worse in the cold weather," Tony said, trying not to sound too tetchy. There was no point in lying. Steve had watched him wrap both hands around the pot's handle and still not have the willpower to pick it up despite the pain. "Part of the reason I lived in Malibu for so long," he added, a thread of defeat weaving into his voice as Steve opened the fridge to get his creamer for him. He hadn't wanted to be in the cold even for a moment. Steve had obviously been able to tell.
Steve turned to face him, expression impassive. "So it's not just the arc reactor then."
"Quite honestly, I didn't even think about the reactor once this morning," Tony sighed dropping his eyes to his feet. He'd been too focused on the pain in his hands, how insurmountable the task of standing had seemed for a moment. Sure, his chest hurt, but it always hurt. The arthritis was sometimes worse than others. And today had been the first sleety-frozen-cold-to-your-bones day of the season.
Steve took a moment to stir his creamer in (the spoon was too small for him to grip, Tony lamented) before he turned, sliding the mug over to him. He watched Tony cradle the mug's handles in both hands before he carefully lifted it for a sip. "Are you in pain in the suit?" he finally asked.
Tony didn't do him the disservice of lying, instead carefully turning his eyes away as he answered, "My hands always hurt. The suit is one of the only times I don't feel bad, though. It's automated, so most of the movements I make are helped with the machinery. 's why you've seen me doing so much work with the gauntlets on lately." He hunched his shoulders, embarrassed. "It wasn't to protect me from soldering. It was so I could hold the solderer without dropping it."
"I see," Steve said solemnly. He stared at Tony's coffee cup for several long, silent seconds, then turned abruptly and left the room.
Probably to go tell Fury he needed to be removed from the team, Tony figured morosely.
He had just finished washing his cup when he heard the elevator open again. He turned, limping into the living room.
"Your boyfriend broke into the Xavier Institute to try and bribe Storm into changing the weather and Xavier is pissed," Natasha said flatly, Steve's ear held tightly in her hand.
"...Did. Did you run all the way there?" Tony sputtered, confused.
"I was on a mission," Steve grumbled, as if he had not just risked life and limb to ask one of the most powerful mutants in the world to ignore the natural weather patterns just because Tony's arthritis was flaring up. "She said no though. Told me to get you more omega-threes, whatever that means."
"Okay," Tony squeaked.
"I am more concerned with being on the mutants' bad side," Natasha began, scowling.
"Storm just thought I was cute," Steve said morosely, at the same time Tony answered, "Xavier won't come near me because my brain's loud and I bother him. I do that on purpose though."
"Oh my God," Natasha whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose, as Steve started googling foods he could make for Tony.
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skepsiss · 5 months
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Post season 4 steddie fic with Steve helping Eddie recover? Like after hospital and he's technically "healed" but he's having trouble. Learning to walk again, shaky hands, sharp pains, things like that
I love them sm
I love them too, anon. This premise is like so many of my story premises for them, so I will try my best to keep it short cause I can see this getting way out of hand, oops. Lol. **Note, you can send me steddie prompts too! Anyone can** (tumblr keeps messing with this post and putting the read more WAY farther down. Forgive me) The idea behind this is they're not together, and neither of them quite knows that they have feelings for the other. Sort of... the blooming of a crush. Early, early stages of Steddie. -- "I can do it," Eddie said harshly as he attempted to pull himself out of the chair he had been lounging in. Steve stood there, arms hovering around the perimeter of the armchair, as Eddie struggled to stand. Maybe Steve had been a bit too attentive as of late, but Eddie had only been home from the hospital for a little over a week. After the accident, recovery hadn't been easy for Eddie--or Max for that matter, but while Max was still in hospital recovering, Eddie had been discharged back to the care of his uncle. Of course, Wayne was ecstatic to have Eddie back home, but with hospital bills and having to replace half of their trailer, Wayne didn't have a lot of time to spend at home. The Party had been volunteering around the clock to check in and help Eddie, but Steve had noticed that Eddie allowed very few of them to actually help him. Steve was one of those people, and even then, it was a fight. Eddie did not in fact 'do it,' as he tried to support his weight on his arms and stand. Instead, he managed to get up and then promptly collapse to the side, clinging to the armrest to stop himself from hitting the floor.
"Hey, woah--" Steve breathed, hunching to catch Eddie by one of his elbows.
Eddie snatched his arm away, looking frustrated and embarrassed as he kneeled on the ground. "Eddie, just let me help," Steve encouraged, sounding a bit exasperated as he tried to look Eddie in the face. "Don't mother-hen me," Eddie huffed, obviously trying to contain his emotions. He sounded on the verge of yelling, or like he was about to start weeping, but Steve tried to ignore that. He didn't need to embarrass Eddie any further. "Can I at least grab your cane for you?" Steve asked, sighing as he stood back up. Eddie took a moment, and then nodded, breathing out a gruff 'yeah,' without looking up. Steve moved to the door and grabbed the cane that Dustin had brought over a few days ago--one The Party had decorated and glued a dragon's head to the top of to make it 'cool.' Eddie had liked it, but he still didn't seem keen to use it.
Steve handed Eddie his walking stick and he grumbled before attempting to get his feet under himself again. "Just let me help," Steve said quietly, not stepping forward like he had before, but still standing there expectantly. "I need to be able to do it myself--" Eddie grouched, barely managing to get up onto wobbly knees and stand. "No you don't," Steve scolded, "not this early on---Eddie, you were in a hospital bed for over a month, you don't have the strength to do it by yourself." "Elaborate way to call me an uncoordinated nerd," Eddie huffed, obviously trying to inject some levity into the conversation.
"That's not what I'm saying," Steve sighed, keeping close attention to Eddie as he slowly started to pivot. "Just let me---" Eddie started as he tried to take a step forward and wobbled terribly. Steve was at his side instantly, catching Eddie around the waist and arm, stopping him from hitting the ground again. Eddie stilled in Steve's arms before Steve heard a small whine escaping him, that eventually turned into an angry snarl. "Don't---just--" Eddie complained, trying to pull away again, but not having the footing or the strength to break Steve's grip as he jerked back. "Just let me do it--" The threat of tears was evident again as Steve saw the frustration well up in Eddie's eyes. He didn't want to force Eddie, but this was getting ridiculous. "Why is it so important that you do it? I can help, Eddie. That's why I'm here, just let---" "Because you're not always going to be here!" Eddie snapped angrily, cutting Steve off. He looked away again but stopped struggling against Steve's grip, instead standing there with his face turned toward the ground like a dejected child. "What're you..." Steve trailed off, trying to grasp at Eddie's meaning. He didn't like how emotional this was making Eddie, and he didn't like that he wasn't able to help him. Whether that was with walking or feeling better. "You're not always going to be here..." Eddie repeated, his tone much softer as he continued to hold onto Steve, still unable to stand on his own.
"We'll... I'll be here for as long as you need," Steve tried, still not understanding what Eddie meant. "No--you... how long is it going to take for me to be normal again? A month? Five? What if it's never? What if I don't get better? You're not always---I'm not going to make any of you put your lives on hold so I can stand up and go take a fucking piss," Eddie gritted out, his voice getting tight at the end, his emotions obviously raw. Steve quieted as he stood there, understanding what Eddie meant, but not agreeing. He had to imagine that being immobilized by an injury would drive him insane too, and he understood to a degree how deregulating it was not to be able to do everything he demanded of his own body. Recovery was slow, and hard, and Eddie wasn't going to have an easy go of it, but pushing himself wasn't going to help.
"That's stupid," Steve said bluntly, watching as Eddie looked up at him, completely surprised by his words. "You almost died, Eddie. No one other than some action hero from a bad B-movie is going to recover that fast. You're just going to make it worse. You have to rebuild the muscles, man. Learn to walk properly; there isn't a point in doing it if you're going to teach yourself to do it wrong, and then have to correct yourself over and over. You'll probably hurt yourself. It'll be painful, man." Eddie seemed shocked silent by Steve's words, still hanging there as he stared. "Isn't it the same with music? You practice and practice the same string over and over again until you get it right? And then you have to practice the right way or you're never going to do it?" Steve asked, watching Eddie inhale unevenly. "Eddie... none of us are going to abandon you, that's not what we do. I'm not going to make you do this by yourself." Eddie looked away again, a choked-sounding laugh escaping him as he let his hair tumble in front of his face to hide his emotions. Steve didn't stare, instead trying to look across the room to give Eddie a bit of privacy. He knew this wasn't easy, and the emasculation of being unable to do anything by yourself had to suck, so Steve tried to preserve as much of Eddie's dignity as he could manage. "Yeah... like learning a new chord," Eddie swallowed, his voice sounding rough.
He took another beat before trying to stand up on his own again, leaning heavily on his cane, but not letting go of Steve's arm either. "Going to ruin your summer--I don't want to be a burden," Eddie breathed, obviously trying to sound a little jokey, despite his words. "You're not a burden," Steve replied easily, shifting to stand beside Eddie to help him walk toward the hall of the trailer. "What else am I doing with my summer? Swim? Actually, might be good to get you to swim. Low impact, but great muscle strengthening. Probably be good for you to swim." "I can't swim," Eddie laughed, his tone bittersweet and laced with a much deeper emotion. "I'll teach you," Steve offered, not putting too much stock in his own words. "I used to teach kids to swim all the time during the summer back in '83 and '84. It's easy." Eddie went quiet again as he took careful step after careful step down the hall toward the washroom. "Yeah... okay," Eddie mumbled quietly as he leaned on the door handle and breathed hard from the effort of walking just that short distance.
"Okay?" Steve repeated, "Hallelujah, he compromises." Steve said sarcastically as he helped Eddie slide the door aside. "Man, shut up," Eddie grouched, but he sounded charmed by the gentle tease. "What're you going to get mad about now? Not holding my dick while I piss?" "Grow up," Steve retorted, trying to sound friendly. Eddie laughed and Steve helped him as far as the sink before letting go. "Don't fall over, and don't try and stand. Just sit down, you're still recovering, man." "Don't tell me how to use the toilet, Harrington. You're not my nurse-maid," Eddie grouched, able to wobble from the sink edge to brace on the back of the toilet. "You're lucky I'm not, probably would have sedated you by now if that was the case," Steve teased again, getting another small laugh from Eddie before he turned to leave the room. "Holler if you need something." "Harrington..." Eddie mumbled, and Steve paused at the door as he held it open. "Don't... thanks... thank you." "Don't worry about it," Steve smiled, "any time man... really. Any time, I don't mind hanging out with you at all." Eddie glanced over at him, and Steve flashed him another smile before sliding the door shut and walking back down the hall. He leaned there, waiting for Eddie to call him back over when he needed him. None of this was easy, and he didn't blame Eddie for having a hard time with it. He wanted Eddie to get his freedom back as soon as possible, but he truly didn't mind hanging around with Eddie whenever he wanted him there. He liked it, actually. He liked feeling needed and helpful, and Steve liked the idea of teaching Eddie to swim. He owed a lot to Eddie, and he had meant it when he said he wasn't going to abandon him. A month, five, forever... Steve didn't plan on abandoning Eddie for anything.
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