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#i’m not actually going through it
cath-lic · 27 days
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*gritting my teeth* god’s love is transformative, god’s love is transformative, god’s love is transformative
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
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It’s been done in every which way but Eddie being in an accident of some kind that leaves him paralyzed, but his doctors believe he could walk again with intense physical therapy
He’s stubborn and absolutely hasn’t dealt with any of the trauma of the accident and takes it out on his physical therapist, Steve, who is used to patients being pretty angry about their situation
He always meets Eddie where he is though, tries to keep a smile on his face and joke when appropriate and even shares his cookies from his lunchbox with him
Eventually, Eddie starts making some progress, but instead of being happy about it, he panics and cancels all his PT appointments for the week
Steve tries calling, texting, emailing, doing everything he can to encourage him to keep going, but it all goes unanswered until Gareth, one of Eddie’s closest friends, calls him on Eddie’s phone
He’s depressed and he won’t get out of bed, he’s given up. He’s tired of being in pain and having to try to so hard just to move his damn legs a little
Steve isn’t usually this personal with clients, and tells Gareth he can’t discuss anything medical with him due to patient confidentiality, but insists he should try to drag him to the office the next day before it opens
And somehow, probably through guilt, Gareth manages to wheel a very sullen and grumpy Eddie into the side door entrance to the office at seven in the morning
Steve tells him to come back in an hour to pick him up and Eddie ignores the goodbye Gareth says to him
And Steve pretends nothing is wrong at all, goes through the usual temperature and blood pressure check, asks how he’s feeling and gets a grunt in response, asks if there’s any pain and gets an eye roll
But Eddie met his match in Steve because Steve then pushes him to the center of the workout room, where a large mat is out and a walker is set to the side
“What’s that?”
“Your walker.”
“I don’t need one seeing as I can’t fucking walk.”
“You are today.”
And Steve knows he’s pushing and he hates being pushy
But he knows what his clients are capable of, and he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Eddie is ready to use the walker for five to ten minute increments. He has the leg strength and the stubbornness, he just needs the belief in himself
“Do you want me to hurt myself worse?”
“Of course not. And if you get tired, the seat on the walker is right there. But you can walk and you will walk.”
“And if I call Gareth to come get me right now?”
“Then I don’t believe my services are of value to you anymore and I’ll wish you the best.”
It pained Steve to say it because he knew he was fucking good at what he did, maybe the best in town. His clients often had to wait for his availability to open for weeks or months at a time because of how many people were referred to him
But he said the right thing because Eddie huffed, groaned, and cursed under his breath before wheeling himself to the edge of the mat to hold onto the walker
He pulled himself up
His legs were shaking from not being used for the last few days more than the bare minimum, but his determination was clear
Steve slowly pulled the chair away as Eddie unlocked the brakes of the walker and glared at Steve as he took one step, then two
Sure, he was relying pretty heavily on the walker, maybe more than Steve would’ve liked to see, but he was moving
He made it across the mat and then locked the brakes, sat down on the pad on the walker, and gave a sarcastic grin to Steve
“Happy?”
“Are you?”
And maybe Eddie wasn’t ready to be asked that because he was suddenly sobbing, covering his face as tears flowed down his cheeks
Steve gave him a few seconds before moving to kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away
“You deserve to have your life back, Eddie. You’ve been lucky to have the chance to walk again. Let’s not waste it, okay?”
Eddie spent the rest of the session walking across the mat and taking breaks every two minutes or so
It was better than Steve even expected, but he reminded Eddie not to do too much at once
Eddie didn’t miss any more appointments with Steve, and every appointment, he seemed to be more charming and flirty, more like “the old Eddie” according to Gareth, who drove him most days
Steve never admitted it out loud, but he knew what he felt for Eddie was different from other clients. It felt more personal, and it felt like it could be more someday
When Eddie graduated to a cane, Steve’s services were officially no longer needed
And Eddie decided that he should probably take Steve out on a date
“Since I can walk and hold your hand now,” he winked.
Steve should say no, but he doesn’t
Because holding Eddie’s hand feels even more right as his boyfriend than it did as his physical therapist
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ricky-mortis · 4 months
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Holloweane… save me…
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yeonzzzn · 21 days
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I need fucking oxygen
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teehee-vibes · 1 month
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Hello fnc nation,,, I come bearing offerings
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This — this gif is literally sterek. You can’t convince me otherwise. This is how Derek grabs and touches stiles. So no one, for even a second think that stiles isn’t his.
Someone is talking to stiles this is how Derek pulls/drags him to rest on his body. He doesn’t move the hand but just stares the other person down.
Stiles loves it, he absolutely loves being manhandled by Derek.
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rose-colored-tarot · 6 months
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I hate to admit this, but casting a circle is proving to make things more effective
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shima-draws · 4 months
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THAT right there, ladies and gentlemen, is a LOVE CONFESSION
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turtleblogatlast · 2 months
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The fact that Leo can go literally anywhere on earth to be alone with his thoughts at a single moment’s notice is something that shakes around in my head all the time. Like, portals and teleportation are amazing and convenient abilities both in and out of battle, but they could also so easily be used to run away as well.
I don’t think Leo ever would, at least not most of the time. He loves his family too much, and is too dependent on their love and attention to cut himself off so suddenly like that, but it’s a very real possibility nonetheless.
It’s a good thing Leo’s overall temper is more on the mild side and he prefers going to his room or something to complete solitude, because it really is dangerous for a kid to have the ability to isolate themselves like that at their fingertips.
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zeb-z · 5 months
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I know it’s played as a bit at first, but Chip struggling to wield Destiny’s Blade in Gillion’s absence is so important, because that’s just it, isn’t it. The weight of his destiny is something so great, so heavy of a burden, but there hasn’t really been insight into that until recently, and now both Chip and Jay are getting a look into just how hard it is to carry such a destiny. To raise the sword that Gillion does seemingly with ease.
But despite its weight, Chip keeps it close. He uses it when he’s out of ideas, when he needs options. He holds it tight to summon water, so Pretzel will have something in her bowl. He lifts it up to summon a shield when he needs protecting from a thousand different blades that would otherwise kill him. And there’s something too about how it’s Gillian’s blade, left behind without it’s wielder, protecting his friends despite his absence. How the manifestation of this magic is an imitation of Gillian’s - the shield protecting Chip as a swirling sphere of water, the shape water spell a Gillion classic of course. Even when he’s gone, his influence, what he’s left behind in both possessions and memory, are protecting Jay and Chip.
Maybe there’s something there about how whatever destiny Gillion has felt the weight of, it will always include protecting his friends - his family. Or about how their destinies are now forever intertwined, because Chip is using this Destiny’s Blade to find Gillion and it’s now his burden to bear. And it’s hard, and it hurts, and he feels the weight of his own actions now more than ever - but Jay promises he won’t bear it alone. And even while he’s lost, and unable to protect himself - Gillion still has a hand in protecting them.
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habken · 9 months
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Yo just so you guys know, cause some people are getting too familiar in my inbox, I don’t enjoy being called pet names or bestie or anything like that. It feels very patronizing and crosses a boundary. I don’t know you guys, especially if you’re anonymous, and honestly you don’t really know me either.
If you ask me a question and you call me something like that, I just won’t answer. I’m fine joking around but I’m not a fan of the weird overly familiar or intimate nicknames.
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thehappiestgolucky · 10 months
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Quick comfort doodles because brains being weirdly mean for some reason
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grimaom · 2 months
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celebrating 25 years of farscape
day 5: what makes farscape truly special?
↳one thing i love about farscape is how it embraces its weirdness, making it a very unique show and watching experience.
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found this book and this card was inside; needless to say i was crying in half price books
cards reads:
dear jamie, i’m sitting here at paradise cafe watching people and eating my cookie (love,love,love) thinking back when i was your age and all the boy problems. it’s one of those times when you wonder if you will ever find someone normal or thinks like you think. it was a time of growing and learning about yourself and what you want out of life. remember i moved 800 miles away from the (a family name and boys)(heehee) you really grow during these times. someday when you least expect it you will meet someone that you think he’s different >:) . but you need to be happy with you and your wonderful self. you have everything going for you and right now you are wonderful being you. so i don’t want you to think that something is wrong because this is all part of growing up and we all go through it. and in the long run it will make you well-rounded, and for sure to know what you want out of life, relationships, etc. i love you so much, mom
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obsessedwithstarwars · 5 months
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Still Alive (But Barely Breathing)
If someone had told Red Hood that he was going to climb through the wrong window at one of his many safe houses, he’d have laughed and flipped them off. Not just because it probably would have been the Demon Brat saying it and disregarding the little fucker would certainly get under his skin. And piss off Bruce. No. Jason was definitely too careful to make a mistake like that.
Well, until tonight.
To be fair, he had been shot. Twice. A through and through in his side, hopefully not damaging anything important, and once in the arm. But that might’ve been a graze. Going by pain, it hurt less than his side. Somewhere between “I need a bandaid” and “stepping on an infinite number of Legos with sharp teeth” on the pain scale. Honestly, he didn’t even want to look until he was safe. It’s not a problem if I can’t see it. And he was currently not safe judging by the sword the resident of this apartment held at his throat.
The first thing he noted was that she wasn’t afraid. In fact, she seemed hella pissed. Her beautiful blue eyes flashed in the moonlight. Most people, when they saw the helmet, along with his stature (Dickface said he was built like a tank) and intimidating presence, well, they got a little scared. This woman stood resolute, calm and determined in the face of danger. She had the presence of an Amazonian warrior. Now, Jason wasn’t much of a betting man, but he’d have put money down on her winning this fight.
Too many voices were vying for dominance in his mind. A part of him thought that if he could get the sword away from his throat, he stood a fighting chance of getting away. Another part considered his injuries. He was lightheaded already which was not a good sign. He needed to get out of here and get help fast. Another part geeked out over the sword. It was exquisite. This woman really had taste. The ornate filigree handle looked like a Swiss rapier, circa late 1600s. But the blade was not fragile like a rapier. In fact, it looked more like a sturdy longsword. Like she had taken pieces of history and meshed them together to create a sword that was beautiful but deadly. Another very small voice thought she was beautiful. He tried to ignore the last one it definitely wouldn’t help him here and hatch a plan to escape. She stepped further into the moonlight and all thoughts flew out of his head. He could have sworn her eyes were ice blue. Now they were a familiar bright green; practically glowing. Where had he seen that color before?
Trying to think made his head all fuzzy. Oh well. Time for some introductions. He felt like a seasoned warrior out to meet a new friend or foe. Attempting to speak felt like an impossible task.
“Hi.” He choked out, his voice gravelly and menacing with the helmet on.
“Hi Mister Red Hood!” A boy’s voice rang out from behind the woman. Oh shit. There was a kid. How did he not see a kid? Why was there a kid here?! He glanced around and noticed the sparse furniture along with a few moving boxes stacked in the corner. He… did he have the wrong apartment? This was his safe house in the Narrows. As far as he knew, no one lived on his floor or in the apartments above or below his. That’s what made this safe house perfect. It was convenient. It was safe.
The woman whispered something to the boy. He couldn’t tell if the words she spoke in a foreign yet all too familiar language were what made his blood run cold. Or the rapid blood loss was getting to him. Right. He needed help. Now. That forced him back into focus. He could feel his thoughts slowly slipping away. He grabbed onto the edge of the windowsill he’d just climbed through, grunting in pain at the sudden gush of blood coming from his side.
The woman tentatively lowered her sword, concern etched on her face. Good. This was good. He was… what was he doing? A wave of dizziness washed over him and he fell backward onto the floor. Black started forming around the edges of his vision. The woman rushed to his side and leaned over him. Her touch was light as she quickly assessed his wounds. Her hair enveloped his vision, so all he could see was her beautiful face. She was talking to him, face to face, er well, helmet, but he couldn’t hear her. Her voice distorted and muffled.
His last thought was, “Damn she’s pretty.” Before succumbing to sleep.
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corpsentry · 7 months
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eulogy
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