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#he deserves hurt/comfort
arriathedragon · 7 months
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Ok. Fine. I see you Adventure Time fandom. So its gonna be like that huh? There's more LEMONGRAB fics than FINN fics.
I must fix this injusice. (And if you have an good Finn-cenric fics I will take anything at this point I cant even find 1 that isn't.... gross.
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sp0o0kylights · 2 months
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Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4
Part Three: link
First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link
The kid was madder than a wet hen.
Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 
Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 
He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 
The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.
Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  
Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.
They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.
Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.
Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.
Unfortunately, so did Eds. 
Still.
 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best
Gave space.
Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.
Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 
One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 
Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 
‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 
Nope. 
‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 
Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 
‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’
That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 
Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 
Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 
They did not.
He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 
Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  
The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.
Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 
Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 
(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 
They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 
Steve too.)
“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 
Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.
An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 
“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  
Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 
“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 
Likely a lot of things. 
It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 
“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”
 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 
“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 
Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 
Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 
And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 
“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 
“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 
Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.
(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 
“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 
Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 
Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 
“He did.”
“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 
“I did.” 
He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 
Wayne took advantage. 
“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”
Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 
“‘Bout trust.” 
Eddie blinked at that. 
“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 
“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 
“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”
Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 
Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 
“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 
Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 
He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 
“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 
Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 
Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 
“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 
After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.
“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 
That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 
“How long is he staying here?”
Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 
Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 
“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 
Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 
Wayne sat with him as he processed. 
Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 
Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 
“What if he finds out?”  
This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 
It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 
The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 
This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 
Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 
Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.
‘Shit.’ 
“He won’t.” Wayne said. 
Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 
Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 
“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 
Hoped that in the future, it would be.
Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.
(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.
Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)
xXx
Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.
He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.
A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.
He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 
Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.
The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.
(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)
Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.
The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 
Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 
Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 
Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.
‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.
Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 
He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 
Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 
Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.
Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 
Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.
Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.
The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  
Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.
It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 
The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 
Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.
Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 
Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.
Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 
At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 
(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 
That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.
Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.
‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 
It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 
Wayne rolled his eyes. 
“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 
Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 
“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 
It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.
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imfinereallyy · 1 year
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Steve Harrington hadn’t talked to his dad in a year.
The last thing the two of them had talked had been after the earthquakes, across the room in the den; his dad barely stepped through the front entryway, and Steve’s back pressed against the back door. The house was messy but still standing, unlike Steve, who was broken and barely keeping himself upright. The only thing Richard Harrington had said to Steve was,
“I think it’s time to move on.” Which was his way of telling Steve they were selling the house and he should figure out his own arrangements. Steve hadn’t cared, though. Didn’t even look at him as he spoke. Instead, he stared at the cracks in the ceiling and wondered if it was some kind of metaphor.
He tried not to think too deeply about it.
It had been a year since then. There had been time to move on, as his dad said. There was no more Upside Down. There was no more worrying about the next move. Max and Eddie were healed. Everyone was back in Hawkins. Robin and Steve lived in a little house on Fifth while Robin took community courses. Eddie practically lived there, too, with the strange friendship bond that had grown between the three of them.
Eddie had argued once it was because their couch was comfier than his bed, but Steve liked to think it was because Eddie wanted to be close to them. To be close to him. Sometimes Steve thought about letting him stay in his bed together.
Time had not moved to that yet.
Everything seemed good. Despite Steve’s resentment towards Richard, and his reluctance to admit the man was right, sometimes it was good to let things go, break apart and move on. Though Steve was sure, this wasn’t exactly what Harrington Sr. meant.
Steve hadn’t talked to his father in over a year. And he didn’t really miss him. Sure, there were moments that passed when Steve would yearn for the small happy moments between them. Secret smiles at baseball games, lunch at his office, and him cheering Steve on at the one swim championship he managed to show up to.
But it always got mixed in with bigger, badder moments. Being left alone for months on end. The belittling. The missed graduation. The yelling. The slurs when he grew his hair out too long. The cold way he said to Steve,
“I think it’s time to move on.”
Like he had been breaking up with a high school sweetheart before leaving for college.
So Steve didn’t miss the man, not really. But in moments like these, in the back of the Byers-Hopper’s backyard at the Father’s Day BBQ, where all party members and parents alike gathered, Steve couldn’t help but ache.
Steve ached for something better than Richard Harrington.
It wasn’t because of parents who stuck around that made Steve’s stomach churn in jealousy, but the ones who decided to show up. It was the way Wayne threw his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and the cheers their beers to something probably ridiculous. The way Steve knew that man would crawl to the ends of the earth for someone who wasn’t technically his, but was nothing short of a son.
It was the way El and Hop manned the grill together. Him laughing at something El said, probably something ridiculous, and her smile back that could light up the sun. The way Steve knew that El wasn’t a replacement for the things Hop had lost, but instead an addition to his life he would choose over and over again.
Steve ached to be loved and care for because someone wanted to. Not because of obligation or by accident. Steve wanted to loved deliberately.
Steve sipped his beer instead of bringing down the celebration with his thoughts. Eddie caught Steve’s eye across the yard and gave him a megawatt smile. Steve couldn’t help but smile shyly back.
“Hey, Steve.” A shy voice said beside him, startling him out of his thoughts. Steve turned to find Dustin standing beside him, nearly up to his nose now with his recent growth spurt. Steve couldn’t help but miss when he was small and could throw him over his shoulder.
Steve was a little surprised to find him there. Dustin wasn’t one to speak small or shy. He liked to make his presence known (much like the lovable metal head he was staring down earlier).
“Hey bud, what’s up?”
Dustin looked around the two of them before answering. Everyone else was with their dads, or talking to one of the party members. Even Robin managed to wrangle her dad and Mr. Sinclair into a conversation about WWII. Dustin looked a little relieved everyone was doing their own thing.
“Okay so you know how like, everyone is celebrating their dad today? And mine isn’t here?”
Steve felt his stomach drop. Somehow in the midst of his self-pitying, he had forgotten that Dustin’s dad wasn’t around either. Didn’t even stick around long enough for his first words. “Yea, dude, I’m sorry this must suck for you.”
Dustin looked nervous. He shifted on his feet back and forth, as if he was trying to find a rhythm to calm himself down. “Yea, so that’s what I actually came over to talk to you about.”
“Yea, Dustin. Im here if you need to talk.”
Dustin seemed to finally be at ease and rolled his eyes at Steve. “No, asshole, I don’t need to talk. I haven’t thought about the dick in years, if I’m honest. I just, it’s something else. And you don’t get to be weird about it.”
“I’m confused.”
“That sounds about right.”
“Hey!” Steve laughed despite his protest. A year ago, stuff like that hurt Steve’s feelings. But now Steve knew it was all in good fun, that Dustin was kind of dick to everyone. And he knew that the joke wasn’t about his intelligence. It hadn’t been a long time, since Steve threatened to push him out of a moving vehicle last time. Steve was pretty sure it had to do with a particular conversation involving his feelings for more than women.
Only Dustin and Robin knew. She was overly supportive, and Dustin instantly made a joke. Both made Steve supported and safe.
The dumbasses.
“Not my fault this happens to you often.”
“Is there a point being made or are you here to just be a dick?” Steve questioned, laughing behind the lip of his beer.
Dustin fidgeted again before pulling something out his back pocket. “Just—promise not to laugh.”
Steve crossed his heart with a giggle before he took a folded white piece of paper out of Dustin’s hands.
Suddenly, Steve’s face got serious as he saw what was on the front.
A poorly drawn Steve with a nail baseball bat, with the title “Happy Father’s Day”.
Steve swallowed thickly before placing his beer on the ground and opening the card. There in Dustin’s chicken scratch, was a message.
Dear Steve,
Don’t be weird about this. Okay here it goes.
My dad wasn’t around a lot, big whoop. Big surprise. I honestly don’t care anymore. Don’t give me a look.
I honestly didn’t think I would really care about any of the dad stuff, didn’t feel like I was really missing out. My mom and her annoying love for cats has always been more than enough. But as time went by sometimes I thought maybe I would be better, I would be different if I had a dad. I see it with the rest of the party, how willingly or unwillingly they all reflect their dads. And how I don’t.
Sometimes I don’t feel like my whole self because if it. Thought maybe I would never really be a whole me because of it. That maybe the world was better off anyway because I know I am a lot.
But then I met you asshole.
I didn’t think I would like you, and more importantly I didn’t think you would like me. But suddenly we are battling worlds together, and you’re hanging out with me even outside the end of days, and I have a new best friend.
If I’m being honest I do see you more as a brother. Someone I look up to. But the more I think about it (again don’t be weird), I do see you as a dad some days. Although the hands on hips do scream mother hen, you’ve been a dad to me in the ways the asswipe who made someone as amazing as me hasn’t been.
You are brave, and funny and despite popular belief you are kind. One of the kindest people I know. You make me feel safe and loved, and give me rides despite me never giving you gas money. Some days I look in the mirror and see parts of you in me, and I feel proud.
Some days I look at you and hope that I can see the braveness and kindness in myself too. I don’t yet, but you make it feel possible.
I don’t need a sperm donor (thank you Robin for that one), I have the world’s okayest dad right here.
Love you brother, friend, dad.
Happy Father’s Day, from your fellow nerd,
Dustin <3
Steve was crying. He knew that. He knew he promised not to make it weird, but Steve couldn’t help it. The little shit got him right in the heart.
He couldn’t be blamed for scooping up Dustin in a hug. “I love you too, Dusty Buns.”
Dustin squeezed Steve tight, “You don’t get to call me that.” He grumbled, but Steve could feel his tshirt getting wet.
“As your father it is my right to get to call you embarrassing nick names.” Steve squeezed Dustin even tighter.
Dustin just laughed and pushed him away jokingly. They both wiped their eyes, but the smiles on their faces remained.
Steve thought about Richard at that moment again, about how he ached for someone to care. And maybe Steve would never get it, but he could be that someone for someone else. He could give that care, Dustin.
The little shit.
“Thank you Dustin.”
Dustin shook his head, his crooked smile remained. “Nah man, thank you.”
They both just stared at each other in comfortable silence before they were interrupted by a barking force.
“What are you two saps talking about?” Eddie slung his arms around the both of them, mouth spread wide in a grin. But then he noticed the tear tracks, and suddenly his face dropped.
Eddie took Steve’s face in his hands, “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Steve shook his head fondly, “Nothing—“ He started, preparing to wave it off. But then Steve realized he couldn’t lie to Eddie. “—nothing bad. Happy tears. I promise.”
Eddie looked at Steve for a moment before nodding, giving his face a tight squeeze, and then dropping his hands. “Okay, Stevie, as long as their happy tears.”
“What am I? Chopped liver?” Dusting grumbled.
“Aweee Dusty, I could never forget you!!” Eddie threw himself at Dustin in a horrible attempt at a hug.
Dustin just pushed him off before rolling his eyes. Steve swore they were gonna get stuck one day.
“Whatever, man. Just make sure that you treat my dad right, or I’m going to have to make some tough calls.” Dustin stared down Eddie seriously before laughing evilly and walking away.
Steve wanted to freeze at Dustin’s implication, but Eddie looked adorably confused, so Steve didn’t feel too bad.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Is this new? Him just getting protective about this without explaining?” Eddie asked Steve.
“Don’t worry about it.” Steve looked down at the card again wistfully, before glancing back up at Eddie. Steve took one of Eddie’s hands and started to play with his rings. A blush bloomed across Eddie’s cheeks; Steve wanted to kiss him. Instead, he just said,
“Just think he’s trying to be a little like his dad.”
***
Dad’s are complicated, and family isn’t always blood. I hope you enjoyed my little Father’s Day contribution. I do headcannon Hopper as Steve’s father figure/replacement, and usually write it that way but this seemed like a fun opportunity to show how Steve is his own father figure for others.
He is a good egg.
Now with Father’s Day over, my birthday is in two weeks which is making me feel all sorts of things. So I’m distracting myself with steddie. Either way expect a lot of writing and updates soon.
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clownsuu · 1 year
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Small detour of what I usually post, but I absolutely wish (other) clown the best of luck during these confusing and almost hopeless times- nobody knows how to deal with such amount of attention in such short amount of time- a blessing and a curse to behold
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signanothername · 1 year
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Working on a fic for my “Dadueso adopts future Leo” au (which imma name “in case I make it,” btw)
And this is basically the entire plot of the fic in a nutshell
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chaos-potat · 4 months
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You chose friendship reassurance
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Next
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creativesplat · 10 months
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Stealing/ Affection: Link steals some time with Mipha after his death, and before his spirit rejoins his body in the shrine of resurrection.
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transingthoseformers · 6 months
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Thinking about Megatron post epilogue going "you know what, no. No. You've sacrificed enough for everyone, I'm bringing you back even if it means bringing Primus, Unicron, and myself offline." and journeying down to the well himself to drag Optimus back, because Optimus deserves to be selfish— even if it's for a mere moment.
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ickyguts · 1 year
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fucked up edgy ass fanart for a concept I have (I want to do a comic for it at some point!)
CW DRUG USE:
 The idea is that on days where Flippy is particularly on edge (losing his grip on fliqpy and afraid he's gunna hurt someone), Flippy resorts to taking a bunch of his sleep aid/painkillers to sedate him.
 Fliqpy sits like this for the next few hours, confused, fucked up, and out of it.
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Raph needs a therapy animal.
Pepperoni is here!
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littlemissfix-itfic · 3 months
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Loving Human!Cas
Thinking about falling in love with Castiel after he loses his divinity. After he’s been kicked out of the bunker, he loses his best friends, his family, his home, and the man he loves, all in one fell swoop. He’s lost his power, his defense, and he’s lost in a world that wasn’t his home, and he has no one to rely on. Not only that, but he’s learning how to do things that he’s never needed to do before. Eating, drinking, sleeping, even holding a job, just as a means of survival. He’s learning what it’s like to actively live in a human body; to take care of it and survive in it, instead of just inhabiting a body like we would clothing or an apartment.
Falling in love with his quirks and social oddities. Getting to watch iconic movies with him, and enjoy his reactions as he sees them for the first time. Loving him as he struggles with this new, human identity and holding him through the times it all becomes too much. Getting to watch as his self-worth gradually begins to sprout, as he realizes he is priceless because of who he is, not because of what he can offer others. Listening to him talk about things that confuse or enamor him about being a human being. Listening to him talk about the things that make him feel, and getting to see his eyes shine as he takes on a task that he enjoys. Getting to be the person who loves him when he doesn’t feel like he deserves it, and loving him even when he struggles with loving himself. Becoming that comforting safety, that only someone you love can offer, for him.
Loving Cas as he navigates being human would have heartbreak and hardship, but sticking with him and loving him through it would offer loyalty and love that is hard to fathom. The heartbreak of hearing his story, and the way that he was treated by the people he loves would be one that haunts you, even when he has long since healed and moved forward from it. The sting of that heartbreak would be the very pain that pushes you into Dean’s path as he tries to reach out to Cas again, and it’s the same thing that makes you rail against each hurtful word and cutting expression that he throws Castiel’s way over the course of the years. That haunting pain that Cas bears in his heart is what makes you fight to stay by his side when he inevitably agrees to return to help the Winchesters, and it makes you protective of him, and his heart, angelic or otherwise.
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crispywizardtale · 10 months
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soleilandpeaches · 1 year
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hello! i have a request if you feel comfortable taking it! maybe something like hawks coming home from a specially dangerous mission and comforting reader?
it's totally okay if you don't feel like writing it either way. you have a lovely blog and much talent 😊
thank you!
HI ANON! Thank you sm you’re just the sweetest! Ofc I will write this for you; I love love this idea! I'm going to add some reader comforting Hawks as well because the caretaker in me needs to be fed too lol.
synopsis: even after he breaks his promises, you still show him unwavering love. He doesn’t understand you, but he’s forever grateful all the same.
warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, bittersweet feelings, feelings of insecurity, emotions emotions emotions
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He senses you before he sees you, he can feel the vibrations of your voice, barely keeping composure and the sound of your footsteps growing in volume as you near his room. Shame runs it’s course inside him; he knew it wasn’t necessarily his fault, still, the idea of making you worry—making you cry—creates a deep and unsheltered wound inside him.
He always promised he’d stay safe, that’d he’d come back to you always. Though times like this prove he can never keep to his promises, no matter how hard he tries.
The creaking of his his hospital door alerts him of your presence, and he takes in your disheveled appearance with a choked sigh. He really doesn’t wish to cause you more anxiety, so he quickly shoots you his best-selling smile as you stand before him, unsure.
“Hey there, Sweet girl…” He says easily, turning his hand over, gesturing for you to take his hand. Your eyes, cheeks, and nose are red from your tears you wasted on him. You bite your lip as you tremble, making your way over to him before delicately taking his hand.
“I’m sorry-” you begin but get interrupted by a choked sob, he can tell you’re desperately trying to hold back for his sake, but as always, you fail miserably.
“Shhh, baby why? Why are you sorry?” He almost begs. He really doesn’t understand why you’re apologizing to him, he was the one who was reckless, the cause to your pain. He should be the one apologizing! But he lets you collect yourself to finish, gently tracing circles into your hand and playing with your fingers.
“For being upset…” you mumble, keeping your gaze locked onto your joined hands, refusing to meet his eyes in your guilt.
“I would be concerned if you weren’t.” He says gently, chuckling in hopes to lighten your mood—he does. Your lips quiver into a little smile, and you peek up to look at him. He sends you a gentle smile and a delicate squeeze to your hand as if to wordlessly say: “Don’t worry, I’m here.”
“Does it still hurt?” Your voice is still strained, causing him to wince internally. Even though he betrayed his promises to you, your concern is still his well-being, you still hopelessly love him.
He feels like the world’s shittiest boyfriend.
Even though he’s assured you in the beginning of your relationship that these things would happen, he never believed it would guilt him like this. He believed himself to be the “tough” one in your relationship. The one who’s supposed to lead and protect you. But now, he feels insecure, berating himself for being so careless.
“No baby,” he says after a moment. “No, it doesn’t hurt”
Now he’s the one holding back tears and refusing to meet your gaze. He feels your hands gently caress his hair, gliding your nails across his scalp causing him to exhale in relief.
“Look at me? Please?” He answers to your desperate plea with a short glance until he feels your hand tilt his chin upwards, then does he look at you. Your eyes swim with pools of concern, fear, and love.
“I love you.” Not being able to contain them any longer, tears escape and trickle down your puffy, red cheeks and onto the hospital tile. Your chapped lip jutted out and trembling as you wait anxiously for his reply.
He stands, carefully enough not to scare you, before he wraps his arms around your middle and bringing your head forward and into his chest. He wraps you both in his wings, cocooning you from the world as he pets your hair, shushing you as you sob into him.
He whispers your name into the air as he reminds you he’s still here, he’s okay, and he’s never going to leave you. Your wails have subsided into sniffles, indulging in his scent and his reassuring words.
He pulls away ever so slightly to stare fondly into you, his hand coming to rest upon your cheek as his thumb rubs underneath your eye. You lean into his touch, your own hand coming to meet his for another gentle squeeze of his fingers.
His forehead meets yours, heavy eyes searching yours for reassurance before he nudged his lips against yours for a tender—and searing kiss. He pours every emotion into your kiss as much as he can, hoping you can feel his regret, his compassion, and his undying love for you that words can’t express.
You meet his passion with your own, gently urging him back with a loud smooch.
“Let’s get you home, Birdbrain.” Bittersweet and earnest, you place one last kiss to his nose before sending him a small smile.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Yeah, okay.”
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justsunandstars · 7 months
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my take on wriollette soulmate au
bcos why the hell not
Everyone knows that dragons don’t have such thing as the One. They live too long, and there are very few creatures living just as long. Such fate really broke partner limitations for them but also left them alone, forever, without the promise of having someone out there, who’s intended for them from the beginning.
Wriothesley, as many people in Teyvat, knows this legend of course. Being in Duke position he somehow gets the info, that Neuvillette is hydro-dragon. He’s still in doubt, but Iudex visiting fortress and sealing the well leading to Primordial Sea only confirms his thoughts on the matter.
So Wriothesley stops his attempts to find out Neuvillette’s name (there wasn't much hope anyway that unreadable symbols on his chest have any sense at all. It’s neither familiar writing of Fontaine nor it is how other nations of Teyvat write their words). He used to look at his reflection a lot, but he stops eventually, coming to terms with never knowing what is written on his body.
His acceptance is the main reason he doesn’t really notice the look Neuvillette’s giving him, reading his first name on the man's bare chest, right above the heart, written in a language long gone, language used even before the existence of Remuria.
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tremorsmackenzie · 1 year
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sousa saying "we are going home agent johnson" is what sealed the deal on dousy for me. so much natural respect for her, and then he gets her out and stays with her even though it means getting further away from his own time because he wanted to be there for her, cause he cares about her and he knew daisy wasnt going to take care of herself and someone had to.
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nakurumok · 1 year
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