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strangersmunsons · 6 months

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you're not feeling your best. Eddie gives you some much needed comfort. eddie munson x fem!reader, ~800 words

“Hey, Eddie?”

Your soft voice breaks the comfortable silence hanging over the bedroom, where you and Eddie have been curled up in each other’s arms since you finished making love some time ago.

“What’s up, baby?” He strokes a calloused hand up and down your back, tracing gentle patterns into the skin with his fingers in a way that makes you shiver. You press your body even closer to his.

He smells musky with sweat and drugstore cologne, and the faint whiff of tobacco that lingers from his post-sex cigarette. He tilts his head down to press a sweet kiss to your shoulder, and then another, and then another.

You hesitate, unsure if you want to break this spell of gentleness by voicing your insecurities. But then Eddie traces the furrow between your brows with a delicate finger, smoothing out the small crinkle. His face is expectant. Waiting.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He gives you a dopey half-smile, the really sleepy one that you love the most. “You just did, didn’t you?”

You try to grin back, but it comes out more like a grimace.

His smile fades, face lining with concern as he takes in your expression. You've apparently hidden your unease from him well tonight; he doesn't like it. He brings a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek in his palm. “Of course you can,” he says soothingly, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

You sigh at his touch. “Don’t laugh,” you whisper, throat tightening.

“I would never, sweetheart,” he whispers back.

You stare up at him, eyes welling with tears. You shift uncomfortably in his arms, overwhelmed by the urge to suddenly run from the room.

“Hey.” Eddie gently pats your cheek, growing alarmed at how upset you look, but nonetheless staying calm for your sake. “Talk to me, angel.” He sits upright in bed, pulling you with him, so your tangled limbs are all gathered into his lap. He rocks you ever so slightly side to side, and curls one hand around the back of your neck so he can bring your forehead to his. “What’s got you all worked up?”

You don't want to tell him anymore, but you’re unable to hide from him like this. Your lip quivers uncontrollably. “Do you…do you think I’m pretty?” The words are wispy, barely there.

You might as well have taken a knife to Eddie’s heart. Shock flickers across his face before sinking into unbelievable sadness. He crushes you to him. “Of course I do. I think you’re so pretty, baby. I think you’re beautiful.” The words become muffled as he buries his face in the crook between your shoulder and neck. “Most beautiful girl in the world.”

That does it.

Fat tears spill over your bottom lashes, and you hug him back as hard as you can.

Eddie caresses and kisses every part of you he can reach. “Why’d you ask me that, huh? Did I do something to make you feel like you aren’t?” Every part of him aches at the thought of making you feel undesirable, accident or not.

You can only snuffle in reply at this point, too caught up in your tears to answer him coherently.

“Shhh,” he hushes you gently, rubbing your back. “Take a deep breath, baby. Try and relax for me, okay?”

He continues to coo sweet nothings in your ear while you let it all out, until you eventually come down from the crying jag. You slump against him, exhausted, waiting for the last few rogue sobs to finish wracking your body.

Eddie holds you all the while, and then tucks you away under his chin.

His voice is soft like velvet. “What happened to my girl today?” He resumes the gentle swaying from before, hoping the motion will soothe you. “What’s making you feel like this?”

“O-overheard…s-some people t-today…” you manage to stutter out.

Eddie’s jaw sets. Would you and he never escape the cruel judgment of others?

“They’re wrong,” he says firmly. “Don’t listen to them. Just listen to me, yeah?”

He jostles you lightly in his lap when you don’t answer. “I said, yeah?”

“Y-yes, Eddie.”

He softens again. “Good girl.” He dots a few more kisses onto your head. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart. I thought you were the second I saw you. And then you turned out to be beautiful on the inside, too. Lucky me, huh?” Another kiss. “My beautiful girl. You’re my angel.”

Your voice is still watery, almost inaudible. “Thank you.”

He gives you a tight squeeze, still speaking in dulcet tones. “I’m happy to tell you that, because it’s true. I’ll tell you all the time now.” Kiss. “I think you need some sleep, sweetheart. I promise you’ll feel better in the morning.”

He doesn’t let go of you for the entire night.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #sorry this is so sappy & gross i'm just in a mood ig #also sorry for using the term 'making love.' it was the only one that felt right #just really craving some soft sweet eddie rn 🥺

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heleizition · 21 days

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this is my naruto oc age 12 and age like 15 lmao she goes through it

#naruto oc #sora #eddy's art #digital art #dont rly wanna tag this too much lmao jst wanted to share it...#i love heeer basically its naruto universe bc i love it but like no naruto characters except like important figures ig #and a war starts jst before she graduates and gets to be put in a team #THIS SPECIFIC concept is . def stolen from still waters by vulpeca_et_anser on ao3 !#amazing sakura centered fic #anyway. going to war at 12 and shes like aw yeah ! i can prove myself ! except that war isnt pretty #jst a big ol hurt no comfort for a while #and then its all about healing once she's like 16 and back and cant do anything else than fight and is put in a shinobi team #i have her two other teammates but not their leader yet...#anyway. green haired girliepop #her name is sora ! her two teammates are masao and kosuke !

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solivagantingrebel · 6 months

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Ghaop.

#ghostsoap #ghoap #call of duty #this quote ruined me ages ago and i hope it does to you too </3 #dog tags make me feel so much you guys dont even understand #musings ; ghoap stuff from my life #ghost soap #angst #all hurt no comfort ig 😭#ghoap angst

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floralstorms · 5 months

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Ummmm human form Prismo design! whee

#my art #Prismo #prismo the wishmaster #human prismo #scarab #the scarab #scarab the god auditor #If this doesn’t look like something he’d wear or something then Idk but Ig #do be aware that my main consumption of his character is through fanfiction art and Fionna and #Cake (because I actually watched it) and video compilations of Prismo so Idk lol but this design has been sitting in my doodles so I decide #to draw it digitally as well #Idk but this was fun #Also. Whee his scarf is a constellation arm with hands at each end. Just a (fun in my opinion Idk) detail.#plus time cube earrings & glasses #Fionna and cake spoilers #Fionna and cake #prohibitedwish #prohibited wish #Vaguelyy…..?#Idk but they’re having fun with their hurt/comfort fanfiction with carefully constructed lore from Scarab #The Characters……. Hmhmhmhmjmhmmhdybdjygcufdiie #the colors were so fun to use here! :D #id in alt text

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skyyworker · 2 years

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when ahsoka leaves the temple and anakin runs after her, you can see obi-wan starting to follow them as well but he's stopped by master plo's hand on his shoulder.

here's this: anakin finding his way back to his quarters in the temple, tears welling in his eyes, he can barely walk straight, but once he gets there he finds obi-wan already waiting for him. and they've never been too open about physical contact with one another but obi-wan opens his arms and all anakin can do is choke out his master's name and throw himself into his arms, sobbing and finally letting his emotions flow out into the force, but especially into their bond

#our padawan #obi-wan is heartbroken #ahsoka was anakin's padawan but obi-wan had gotten used to referring to her as #he also loved ahsoka so very much and seeing her go like that #because the council had failed her #it hurt. a lot #he's holding anakin close but in that hold he's not only reassuring anakin but himself too #god knows he needs it #also obi-wan peppering little kisses in anakin's hair when it gets harder and harder to breathe? crying does that to a mf #anakin skywalker #star wars #darth vader #obi-wan kenobi #tcw #the clone wars #ahsoka tano #obikin #ig?#and wouldn't it be lovely if obi-wan somehow managed to sneak padmé in to comfort anakin together?#anakin being a devastated crying mess with obi-wan holding him from one side and padmé from the other #the way they all loved ahsoka and were the only ones who believed her? (apart from master plo)#tcw spoilers

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 9 months

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A very Babbit monologue, ft. Sundrop in distress and a self insert trying to comfort him

In which Sun is shaken up and disturbed by some sudden shocking tragedy and asks Babbit (a self insert of me lol sorry) about the confusing feelings he can’t seem to get rid of. Babbit, in an attempt to comfort him, does what they do best,,,,,,,, ramble incoherently <3

(aka just a bunch of stuff I would say to someone confused and distressed by the way life-altering tragedies can just happen for no real reason or smthn idk I just work here lol bye)

(transcription of dialogue below the cut !)

.page1.

“What’s the matter? You good?”

"Well, it's... I still feel that- that shaky feeling." "The sad and anxious one?" "Yes, that!"

"When does that stop??"

“HOW do you go back to normal?? When you know things like THAT could happen at any time?”

“Just thinking about it... How does anyone ever FORGET that??”

.page2.

"Well,, you don't. Not really."

"At first it feels like it's all... too much to handle. Like it's suffocating you, knowing."

"For a while, the world will feel like a ticking bomb and you're the only ones who knows. Sometimes it's too much, and you can't move. Sometimes you're just mad."

"But you figure out how to carry on, one day at a time."

.page3.

"You realize one day that just because it CAN happen, most of the time, you walk past those potential bad things completely untouched, none the wiser."

"You learn that life is unpredictable, but... to dread every second means you miss the good bits, and maybe that's the worst thing you can do."

"And then one day, you wake up and realize you can breathe."

.page4.

"Ok well w- what I mean is,, You don't go back to 'normal,' but the bad feelings don't last forever. You'll get happiness back, and the perspective to appreciate it, I guess?"

"..."

"I- I don't know if that helps, actually,, haha,,, sorry for rambling lol,,"

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brainr0t-landfill · 3 months

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📋Compartment Syndrome

gn! reader x Captain Price

"...I had to kill it to keep it, framed it afterwards, above my bed so I could see it each morning."

-???

(tw: unhealthy relationship, phisical violence, mentions of drugs, minor mention of reader 'being the other woman')

You served John divorce paper today.

He's sat at the kitchen table blunt nails drumming against mahagoney as he look at you, then the documents, less surprised or heartbroken more expectant.

And it baffles you how a man so big can look so small, how a man that fills up doorways and commands the air around him like second nature can slump his shoulders, hide his tears with coughs.

İt was a few years in the making and even then you feel bad, this is the man you love, loved; you used to stay up at night waiting for his footsteps on the front lawn. You have to remind yourself that was over five years ago, back when he actually bothered with you and the home, the love he had vowed to build with you, left high and dry like an abonded building spiderwebs in the corners and illegible graffiti on the walls, suffocating dust clouds merging with ominous shadows.

You used to hotbox in buildings like that, you and what few friends you had back in the days he wouldn't even look your way.

"And-"

He lifts the first paper pretends to take a look at the one below that and pushes them away from him, a muscle feathers in his jaw.

"-your reasoning for this? I'd like to think you wouldn't ruin us over something petty luv."

He knows and you know that he knows, you've argued about it often, you wanted him to be home more, you wanted him to be safe, you wanted him to at least bother interacting with you beyond sex, dinner and whenever he couldn't find the remote.

It wasn't even about his job at this point the day you had married that bright eyed, headstrong young man you knew you'd always be the other woman to his job you just desperately want his shadow out of your home at this point.

You clear your voice ,eyes on your weathered house slippers.

"Look I don't want to offend you, I don't even wanna cut you off completely! I just think-"

"Straight to the point, sweetheart."

He emphasis the word sweetheart, today of all days, knowing how it makes you feel.

"Neglect."

You answer, his eyes widden ,nose flaring.

"Neglect? Oh please we've been over this honey, I don't neglect you I'm not home kissing your feet all the damn time because I have a fucking job to do! I'm the one who keeps a roof over your head and defends this country while you sit at home and twiddle your thumbs! God you're fuckin infuriating, this is why you can't find a damn job, you braindead homebody-"

"I started working at the new school, the one that opened last year, you didn't get my messages?"

He falters, runs a hand over his overgrown beard.

"You did? That's- luv that's amazing! How's the pay? Are your colleagues-"

"Let's- let's just stay on subject, please."

You tell him doing your best to keep your voice even and cold.

He deflates, leaning back in his chair as he sighs. He looks awfull, unshaven, hair greasy, shirt dotted with blood and one of his arms in a sling you'd said that it was important that you couldn't wait for him to change or shower, less you chikcen out like the first five times it used to feel impossible to leave him once, he was bigger than life with each little bastardized segment leading up to him in some capacity.

"Luv, listen I know you're frazzled I've been gone for a month and I was barely home for a week before that, I understand ya wanna pick at me and get ya anger out but I've had a long ass month, okay? I just want a shower, your cooking then I want to cuddle up to the love of my life, yeah? Give an old man a break and for fucks sake get rid of these."

He gets up with a groan and pushes the papers towards you it always suprises you, how quickly he can dismiss arguments you've spent hours thinking through, how small he can make you feel.

"Price, look-"

"What the fock did ya just call me?"

"-I know it's painful to think about but this relationship obviously isn't serving either of us anymore, you're too busy for it and I don't think I ca-"

He has you against the wall before you can even react, shoulders and chest crushing you against the smooth, pearly white surface as his humid breath warms your cheek, your arm twisted across your back in the grip of his good hand; pain like coke sparking cruel stars in your visom.

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

He growls in your ear mashing his nose against your cheekbone.

"There is no reason for us to be together, just listen to me for a second-"

You hiss in pain as he twists your arm further, your ring finger -adorned by his mother's heavy, heirloom ring- brushing against your shoulder blade.

"I love you and you love me, that's plenty reason to stay together. Isn't it?"

It's marvellous how much conviction he can put into that excuse when you're pretty sure it's his hundredth time saying it, slightly different context, same words. You almost miss the times you'd jump through hoops for a smile from him when he was indifferent to you because he had no reason to treat you any way else.

"Isn't it?"

You nod, cheek rubbing against the wall as your eyes water.

He relaxes his grip on your arm, presses firm, moist kisses against your face.

"That's my baby, I know you're upset, I know and I'll make it up to you, I promised 'n I always keep my promises don't I?"

Your face is sour with all the promises he broke, all the times he let you down, left you alone as you nod.

"Use your words luv."

You take a deep breath, trying to find your words through the pain of your twisted muscles, your straining elbow, your back straight and stiff as a cutting board that your arm is pinned on.

"Yes, John."

He clicks his tounge, sharp sigh brushing against the side of your face.

"I just got injured ya ought to be a little bit sweeter."

"Yes,-"

You take as deep a breath as his crushing body allows.

"Yes, honey."

He smiles, letting go of you and stepping back allowing you- granting you space to breath, to turn around and rub at your burning arm something too close to guilt for comfort in his eyes. You stay like that for a few moments, feeling his eyes across your skin; slow and heavy like his hands like something you have to work to keep on you.

"One last thing?"

You look up, his eyes are wet. He hands you the divorce papers. Your lawyer will be so disappointed.

"Rip them and think about what you're doing next time, how your actions affect me."

You take them, the pristine paper shaking in your hands as your rip them, barely seeing through your tears you walk over to the bin.

He looms over you, broad shadow blanketing, eclipsing yours, swallowing it. He wraps his good arm around your waist when you're done, presses his barrel chest against you stil-stiff back and flutters kisses from the base of your neck up to your jawline.

"Y'know I love you."

#call of duty x reader #captain john price x reader #cod x gn!reader #angst #tw codependency #tw marital abuse #tw neglect #captain price x reader #captain price x you #hurt/angst #hurt/comfort #ig?

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a-little-unsteddie · 1 year

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Admiring the Ocean

I promise this is fluffier than the last thing I posted. Kinda. It gets there, in the end. Enjoy!

———

Eddie was never what anyone would consider a ‘quiet kid’. He did everything so loudly — so himself — and without reservation. It’s one of the things that Wayne insisted he loved most about him. He didn’t hold back, ever, and Wayne thought that kind of being, that kind of loving, was beautiful.

Unfortunately, the world would not agree with Wayne Munson, because Eddie was only eight when he first started getting into Dungeons and Dragons. Someone at school had lent him a guidebook, and he had taken it home to read. Occasionally, when he read something particularly intriguing, he would turn to his dad and repeat exactly what he learned. At first, he got patient smiles and nods. Then his dad would roll his eyes before turning to listen. Eventually, he would audibly scoff as Eddie required his attention. This would lead to his dad eventually growling out, “For god’s sake boy, shut the fuck up before I make you.”

That would be the first time that Eddie learned that sometimes he was too loud.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

Eddie was ten when he came home to tell his dad about his crush. He was ten when he learned that he should be quiet about that part of himself. He was ten when he was almost killed for loving a boy. He was ten when he left to live with his Uncle Wayne. He was ten when he decided he wouldn’t talk anymore. He was too loud.

It didn’t last, however. It lasted about as long as his uncle found out he decided to stop talking. It lasted maybe two hours. And then his uncle was telling him that there was nothing wrong with him. That the way he loved was magnificent, so completely and irrevocably perfect. It would take longer for Eddie to believe it. To embrace it.

Even then, though. Eddie decided he would love boys quietly. From a distance. He knew it was dangerous for him to love openly. So he didn’t. He made every other part of himself so loud it drowned out anything else. No one noticed the quiet yearning Eddie felt. He hid it from everyone.

Well.

He tried to hide it from everyone.

But Wayne must have known, must have been told, must have somehow seen, because he took Eddie close one day and whispered into his ear gentle reassurances.

“I know. I know, it’s okay. It’s okay to love boys, y’hear me?” Wayne had gruffly spoken, firm but quiet. “I know it’s scary, but it is okay. You are allowed to love boys. I love you. You are mine, y’hear me, boy? My son. And you can love whoever you want.”

Eddie still hid it. He just hid it with Wayne, letting his uncle hear about whoever he liked. He couldn’t help it, really. But other than that, he was quiet. He never showed signs in public. He was still loud, but he used it as a cover. He used it as a shield. Threw himself into being so wholly and unequivocally himself so that he could watch, yearn, admire from afar. Used his speeches at lunch to give himself a chance to look at whatever pretty boy had captured his attention.

Eddie loved pretty boys.

He did so quietly, observing from afar, content to love them from his mind, doing nothing to show for it besides the occasional longing look. He never expected any of them to love him back, how could he? Loving them was never about getting loved in return — no one expected a sunset to watch them back. He was happy doing what he was doing.

And no boy was as pretty as Steve Harrington.

Loving Steve Harrington wasn’t something that Eddie had expected. It had happened suddenly, without a warning. Eddie had been unaware of the fact in one moment, one breath, and in the next one, Eddie knew he would love Steve Harrington until he died, probably. He also knew he would do so silently. The one thing about himself he would ever do quietly. He watched as Steve healed and became more himself, admiring the way that he had been building muscle strength. He watched the gentle happiness return to Steve, how it radiated from inside of him and brightened the entire room. He was breathtaking. Still, Eddie loved without expectation. Without planning to tell anyone. Other than Wayne. Wayne heard it all.

Heard about the way Eddie is certain he could create constellations if he concentrated hard enough on the moles and freckles dotted across his skin. He heard of the way Steve’s laugh brings a smile to anyone who’s around to hear, the noise so gentle and fond it’s impossible to ignore. The way that Eddie is convinced that Steve was art, a sculpture carved from stone, appearing soft and forgiving, but actually sharper than he lets on.

Except.

Eddie got comfortable. When Eddie got comfortable, his self preservation goes down, apparently. Eddie and Steve were hanging out, and Steve was looking at Eddie curiously, searching for something. Eddie wasn’t scared of what he was looking for — at first. Then, the longer Steve looked at him, eyes growing ever fonder, Eddie realized what Steve was looking for. Maybe not what he was looking for, exactly, but what Steve had found. Eddie was terrified of whatever it could be.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asked, looking at Eddie in soft confusion. Not accusatory, just curious. Worried, maybe. It soothed Eddie enough to just start talking.

“I learned from a young age that sometimes I love things too loudly,” Eddie started, unsure where he was going until the words were spilling out, “But I still loved so much. Everything. Dungeons and dragons, art, theatre, math on a good day. I just didn’t know how to be quiet about anything I admired. And well, some people didn’t like that, so they tried to shut me up.” Here, Eddie paused for a second as he contemplated something. “I guess, in a way, they won. Because I stopped loving boys out loud, but god, do I love them. Especially pretty ones, like you. But I learned that just because I can’t be loud about it, doesn’t mean I can’t do it. So I did it from a distance. Never straying too close. It’s a bit like loving the stars, y’know. Or how a sailor loves the sea,” he paused, smiling softly, “in the way photographers love a sunset. With my entire being and no expectations to be admired, to be loved, back. You don’t look at the ocean and expect it to look back at you.” He ended his ramble, trailing off and feeling his cheeks heating up. He said a bit mire than he meant to. Well, he supposed, he was never really meant to love quietly.

Eddie opened his eyes when a hand touched his cheek, not realizing he closed them. His eyes met Steve’s, who was looking back at him so softly, so lovingly, that Eddie was struck with the absurd thought that this is what it must feel like to be admired, to be loved by the ocean in return.

#i told you it’d be fluffier at the end #anyway this was fun to write #loving the ocean as a metaphor #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stranger things #st #steve harrington x eddie munson #fluff #hurt/comfort #angst #kinda ig #unsteddie writing

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iwantflyingpigs · 11 months

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i swear i only have three types of ships-

(screaming in agony continues)

"can you guys just communicate so that i can be in peace?!"

(kicking my feet in the air) "sooo when's the wedding?"

also knows as the holy trinity of angst , hurt/comfort and fluff

#love em all tho #very hard to read #that's why gotta stick reading them in smut #:)#it's all quite concerning #how i failed to find more than one ship for fluff #but my mind was full on listing with angst and hurt/comfort #it's all about vibes ig #soukoku #satosugu #akiangel #kokonui #reonagi #sasaki and miyano

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descendinginto-madness · 5 months

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welt except he has a fever and desperately needs sleep

cw: descriptions of illness, high fever, being kinda delirious/out of it, sleep deprivation?, nightmares, headaches, mentions of death

contains spoilers for welt's hi3 lore

also, disclaimer! welt in here is very reluctant to ask for help and feeling bad about it because... well i imagine he'd react like this, BUT! needing help and asking for it is completely normal and valid and okay; please remember that and take care of urself ok!! ily /p

alright, so...

i'm gonna be honest since i found @bugbytez13 's blog welt sickfic ideas don't want to leave my head LMAO except i will write a detailed description of a fic instead of the fic itself. that's it that's the post

tbh this ramble in particular could be made into two separate fanfics (one sickfic and one specifically about the nightmares) but shh

i will forever be self conscious or anxious about things i post that aren't just headcanons or silly little rambles, but also... writing this went surprisingly smoothly so! enjoy the essay or something idk HAHA

======================================

so, about welt...

i just know this man is going to force himself to stay awake. maybe his self-sacrificing issues are less present now, and he doesn't immediately throw himself in danger in every fight ever, but he's still stubborn as hell. so he won't admit something is wrong. he won't admit that maybe getting way too little sleep several days in a row wasn't doing wonders for his immune system and he's now finally feeling the consequences. to be fair, he expected it might end like this, but he didn't want to take breaks - there's still too many things to take care of before they finally head to penacony. and now, he will still insist of taking care of everything, even though his body is basically begging him to go take a nap.

except maybe, he didn't even expect it to get this bad. or thought that he can just power through it. i mean, he's been through much worse, right? this is nothing compared to literally losing his body for some time. but he's sitting in the parlor car, and he's half awake, and unusually cold, and his head is hurting, and keeping up the act is getting harder and harder - but he has to, because the younger members of the crew are here too, even if only march is talking to him.

but they pick up on the fact that something is wrong, of course they do. his eyes are unfocused, he looks like he's about to fall asleep - or pass out - and march had to repeat herself twice for him to even fully process what she was asking him, and so suddenly stelle is next to him, attempting to touch his forehead - and he recoils. "i'm fine," he says, and it's probably a bit too quick and a bit too firm than he'd like it to be, and all of this is stupid, really, because he shouldn't be scared of someone touching him. how hot can it really be anyway if he's feeling so cold, right? but if that wasn't enough dan heng asks an even more dreaded question, "are you sure, mr yang? do you want us to call himeko?" and welt decides it's time to excuse himself, before he makes them even more worried. because even in his present state, he can pick up on the fact they're concerned, but at the same time unsure of what to do, and it makes him feel guilty. of course they're unsure; he's usually their caretaker, and he always knows what to do, and it should never be the other way around. he should've just stayed in his room all day, shouldn't he.

"thank you all for your concern, but i'm alright." he stands up. "now, please excuse me, i still have some work to do." of course that's true, but he's almost certain he won't be able to focus on that- but he just needs an excuse to get out from here and be left alone anyway.

but stelle is right next to him, and looking determined to accompany him to his room, too. "you look like you're about to fall, mr yang," they explain, and he wants to insist that he's okay once again, but realizes he's too tired to do so. it would take him at least a few minutes, and it's a few minutes he doesn't have nearly enough energy for. he just wants to finally lie down. so, he lets stelle essentially escort him into the hallway and to his bedroom, and make sure he doesn't collapse on his way there, and-- it's embarassing, honestly, because it's already so difficult for him to show himeko the slightest hints that something might be wrong, and right now the situation is similar but ten times worse - so it's also ten times harder for him to come to terms with the fact he needs to rely on someone.

"my... apologies for making you all worry," he says quietly when they reach his room, and he's so thankful that he left the lights off, because the parlor car was way too bright, and though the hallway was a bit better, it still wasn't good.

"it's alright," stelle shakes her head, and stands there in the doorway, even as he heads towards his bed and sits down. "i'll ask himeko to check up on you in a bit?" she asks, and he only nods, though he isn't sure if she can actually see it. he doesn't want to talk anymore, he doesn't want to think because even just that seems to make his headache worse, he just wants stelle to leave, he just wants to sleep-- he isn't even sure if he understood her question correctly, but he also doesn't have the energy to care. he falls asleep the moment the door closes behind her, fully clothed and half covered with a thick blanket, but even then he isn't allowed a peaceful rest.

memories from old battles flash before his eyes, silhouettes of enemies he once fought, those against whom he won - but also of those who severly injured or even killed him, and with that come the memories of the pain

and the fear of losing his body again.

when he finally awakens, sweating, shaky for reasons other than his fever, and still feeling pretty awful, it takes him longer than usual to remember where he is. it takes him longer than usual to remember that he's safe.

but now there's medicine and a thermometer on his nightstand, and a note written in himeko's neat handwriting - though he actually spots and reads it some time later - telling him to rest as much as he needs to, because she'll take care of everything; and only after he does read it and feels a sense of relief come over him, he realizes how much the thought of having to leave all the work in order to take a break actually stressed him out. he still feels bad about it, because of course he does, and of course he's going to apologize to everyone later.

but he's also able to sleep more peacefully now.

#whump #whump writing #welt yang #honkai star rail #hsr #rambles #hsr headcanons #headcanon #stelle #march 7th #dan heng #ig these three are here for a bit!#sickfic #angst?#hurt/comfort #i guess #himeko #dim writing ☁️

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alxarasm · 7 months

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Let’s talk about how Catelyn looked at Ned for 15 years and saw a man she wasn’t supposed to love, but she loved anyway, even though he loved another faceless woman “more fiercely”, with the living, breathing reminder of that every day that she cannot speak of.

Ned looked at Catelyn for 15 years and saw the only woman he ever loved, who he wasn’t supposed to love, but did anyway. Knowing that every day he hurts her with his lies and he can’t say anything, that “she would’ve been happier with Brandon”, that he will not say anything to ease their suffering because he cannot.

Insecurity dug its claws into their relationship from the start, and it’s all because of secrets and lies they had no wish to conceive.

#ned stark #catelyn stark #hurt no comfort ig #nedcat #nedlyn #asoiaf

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fictionalfish · 4 months

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When I Saw Your Face

Falling isn't easy for anyone, luckily the first person Vaggie see's after falling is so willing to help her... or it would be she wasn't racked with guilt about the life she just left, and trying not to catch feelings

#Chaggie #hazbin hotel #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Charlie Morningstar #vaggie hazbin hotel #vivziepop #First meeting #angst (a bit)#hurt/comfort #bita fluff too #the whole package ig #im always scared i tag things wrong

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bloodnbunnies · 7 months

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Bonnie is like…. messy sleeper coded for realll like. Whenever him and Fred cuddle and fall asleep together, Freddy’s either almost falling off the bed, has fallen out the bed and is laying in the ground and wasn’t woken bc he’s a deep af sleeper, or Bonnie’s on top of him and it looks like they’ve been hit by a car or smth with the way Bon’s just contorted on top of the bear

Bun is also a light sleeper. Freddy cannot leave the bed, it’s illegal LMAO….. Bon will eventually wake up, go and find him and then latch onto his waist and just be dragged around by the bear until he decides to go back to bed. Partly bc he just wants Freddy’s warmth and other part bc he’s deathly afraid of being alone… after so much time of being trapped in those wet floor signs with no way to properly communicate or maneuver around very well, it really starts to get to you :[

They work on it ofc, but baby steps,, ya know?

#some sleepy hc’s for u :]#w/ a side of hurt/comfort ig? smth like that GDGDGDG #fnaf #five nights at freddy’s #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #security breach #glamrock freddy #glamrock freddy fazbear #fnaf glamrock freddy #glamrock bonnie #fnaf glamrock bonnie #fronnie #glamrock fronnie #fnaf headcanons #text #text post #bunny yaps

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wiseatom · 1 year

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perhaps Mike has a migraine and Will is comforting him? (I have a migraine today🥲 and I would like to be vicariously comforted through characters dhejdjedi). Thank you!!💕

hi anon!!! thank you for the prompt <3 sorry that this is late, but i hope you are feeling better!!

The apartment is dark when Will gets home.

He frowns as he steps inside; Mike should definitely be home by now. Will usually stays late at the studio on Fridays, trying to create as little work as possible for himself on Saturday so that he can actually have a weekend the next two days, but Mike is usually off early on Friday. He should be here.

He flips the entryway light on and lets his messenger bag fall from his shoulder to one of the dining room chairs as he passes by, peeking his head around the wall that blocks his view into the kitchen. The window above the sink lets in the last of the evening light, illuminating the room in a blueish glow, but there's no Mike in sight.

“Mike?” he calls out, stepping further into the apartment and flipping switches as he goes. Dining room, living room, hallway – but by the time he reaches their bedroom door, he’s pretty sure he’s figured out what’s going on. He cracks open the door to their bedroom as quietly as possible, letting in only enough light to confirm that, yes, the lump under the covers is distinctly boyfriend-shaped.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice nearly a whisper as he slips inside the room. He’s careful with shutting the door behind him, holding onto the knob so that the latch doesn’t click, and then rounds the bed. He approaches the blanket lump and sits gingerly right by where he guesses Mike’s head is, if the tuft of hair poking out from the covers is anything to go by. “Migraine?”

(They’re less common than they used to be, Mike’s migraines, but Will’s been around for nearly all of them. He never used to get them, but that was before the nasty blow to the head that happened sometime during the interdimensional fight for their lives at just sixteen years old. All throughout the rest of high school and most of college, the resulting migraines became a frequent visitor, their visits frequently bad, and Will frequently powerless to do anything but sit by and watch Mike suffer.

It’s been years, but Will doesn’t think he’ll ever be used to it.)

At the question, Mike makes a muffled noise of assent, then pulls the covers back far enough to squint up at Will in the lowlight of the room. Will frowns again, letting out a sympathetic little hum, and threads his fingers into Mike’s hair, nails scratching at his scalp along the way. Mike closes his eyes, clearly pleased, and presses his head into Will’s thigh.

“Did you take anything?” Will asks quietly.

“At school,” Mike answers. His voice is hoarse, tired, and Will’s heart clenches in his chest. “It hit second period, so I popped three ibuprofen and found a sub by fourth. Drive home was brutal.”

Will grimaces, hoping traffic wasn’t as brutal as the afternoon sun. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, running his fingers through Mike’s hair again. “Anything I can do?”

Mike hums. “That,” he says, letting out a content sigh. “‘S almost gone, anyway. Just need more sleep.”

“I’ll stay until you fall back asleep, then,” Will promises. He leans back to check the glow of numbers from the alarm clock on his side of the bed. “If you’re up before eight, I’ll make you dinner.”

The corner of Mike’s mouth twitches, as much of a smile as he can manage. “What time is it now?” he asks.

“Quarter past six,” Will answers, eyes flicking to the numbers again.

“Should be gone by then,” Mike mumbles. “I accept your bargain, Byers.”

Will lets out a little laugh, making sure to keep it quiet. “Sleep,” he commands gently, and it’s a testament to how truly tired Mike is that he doesn’t even attempt to argue it. Instead, he just pulls the blanket back up over his eyes and shifts so that his head is pressing more insistently into Will’s thigh, like the external pressure is helping banish the one happening internally.

“Thank you,” Mike says quietly, voice muffled from under the covers again. “Love you.”

“Always,” Will replies easily. “Love you, too.”

Mike lets out another happy sigh, and Will sits there in the dark with him for another ten minutes, absentmindedly carding his fingers through his hair and waiting for his breaths to even out with sleep. When they finally do, Will carefully extracts himself from his sleeping boyfriend, stilling and wincing at the creak of the mattress, and then letting out a sigh of relief when there’s no movement from Mike afterwards. He makes quick work of stumbling through the dark to find a change of clothes, opening and closing drawers as silently as possible, and once he’s in a pair of sweats and a crewneck he’s pretty sure don’t belong to him, he quietly exits the room into the hallway.

With Mike out of commission for the next two some-odd hours, it’s probably the perfect time to dig back into his messenger bag and look over those character concept design sheets that are due tomorrow, but his eyes already hurt at the thought of even spending a single minute looking at the same stupid drawings again. If he’s going to give himself eyestrain, it’s going to be with the Nintendo.

Eyestrain is exactly where he’s approaching an hour and a half later, when Mike emerges from the bedroom looking sleep-rumpled and soft, one leg of his sweatpants higher than the other. Will immediately pauses his game and lifts one arm up, and Mike doesn’t need a verbal cue to crawl right up into the space Will has made for him. He settles against Will’s side easily, resting his head on Will’s shoulder. The light from the screen instantly creates a glare off his glasses, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Ocarina?” he asks.

“Mhmm,” Will replies. He runs his fingernails along the point of Mike’s shoulder. Mike preens at the touch. “Trying to get through the stupid Water Temple, still.”

Mike barks out a quiet laugh. “Good luck,” he says, “my kids have been going on about that for months. I have absolutely zero tips for you.”

“What good are you to me if you can’t even get me gaming tips from resident high schoolers?” Will scoffs, which earns another quiet laugh from Mike. Will smiles, pleased, and turns his head, kissing Mike’s temple. “How’s that big brain of yours doing?”

“Not completely gone, but manageable now, at least,” Mike answers.

Will hums. “Think you can manage some soup?”

Mike pulls back to give him a look. “Do you think you can manage some soup?”

“That was one time,” Will hisses, after letting out the quietest indignant squawk a person has ever indignantly squawked. Mike is lucky that Will is such a considerate boyfriend -- Will wishes he could say the same.

“Just because we painted over the scorch marks doesn’t mean they’re not still there,” Mike points out. Before Will can protest further, Mike is pushing himself up and pressing their lips together, the most effective method of silencing Will known to man (scientifically proven). “I’ll make it. Chicken noodle okay?”

Will watches as he starts to head towards the kitchen, shifting so that the arm that was just holding Mike is draped over the back of the couch. “Are you sure you’re up for it?” he asks, loud enough so that Mike can hear him, but quietly enough so that he doesn’t disturb him.

“Soup is easy,” Mike answers, grabbing a pot and turning on the hood light. He reaches into the cupboard to the left of the stove and grabs the familiar red and white can, and then looks back over his shoulder at Will with a shit-eating grin. “At least, it’s easy for most of us.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Will asks with a frown.

“Not in this lifetime,” Mike says easily, pouring the soup into the pot he retrieved and moving it to the back of the stove. Once he’s flicked the burner on, he turns back towards Will and leans against the counter, still wearing that stupid, smug grin.

Will sticks his tongue out at him. “Glad to see you’re feeling better, asshole.”

“Much better,” Mike says. He casts a glance over his shoulder at the soup on the burner, then pushes off the counter and strides back over to the couch, leaning down and capturing Will’s lips in another kiss. His lips are dry and warm, and he’s annoying, and he doesn’t deserve to be attacked by his own head twice a month, and Will loves him so, so much. He pulls back, and Will just stares up at him, because when the only light is coming from a single lightbulb in the kitchen and the glow of the television, Mike is the brightest thing in the room. “Much, much better,” Mike says again, his lips brushing Will’s with every word, and then dives back in for another kiss.

(There is not another soup incident, but it’s a close call.)

#byler #byler fic #byler fanfic #byler fanfiction #byler ao3 #wiseatom minis #thats a ficlet tag now ig uess .#ANYWAY sorry that this was . maybe not as much of what you asked for #hopefully there is enough hurt/comfort to make it worth it <3 #in my head they live in california n the year is 1999 n mike is a 9th grade english teacher n will works at d*sney as a character artist #he is working on the 2001 animated feature atlantis the lost empire . ty for coming to my ted talk #me: creates the most intricate backstory for a fic tht is less than 2k .

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local-x-reader · 8 months

Note

Hello, how are you doing? Hopefully great.

If it's alright with you - and it's up to you to turn it down - Can i request platonic genshin impact HCs of Fem!reader?

Plot about Reader who if she had friends who's shorter then her or look younger, she immediately consider them her little siblings and try to take care/protect them because she's usually the oldest in her family and used to take care of others?

I have multiple characters to follow the same plot but if you only do a character per request then i want it to be Wanderer please and thank you!

I do infact do multiple characters~! So if you’d like to send in another ask with a few of the other characters, go right ahead Lovie! I picked Freminet as a little extra.

I can’t guarantee that either of them will be super in character since I’m still figuring them both out, and I’m not quite sure if this is what you meant as well!! I apologize if its not to your liking!

Being coddled. He hates it so much.

You seem to constantly be there. Scraped his knee? (Can he even scrape his knee? Wait hang on… Did not get an answer for that. I do not know: for the sake of it, yes.) You’re there, appearing out of seemingly nowhere, with a bandaid and a popsicle. Pushing it gently into his hands before putting the bandaid on.

He can’t even stop you, you just appear whenever he’s hurt.

The more annoying thing? That he’s finding himself to actually like the attention you give him, slowly getting less angry and oh man do your ears thank you, since he’s no longer yelling at you to leave him alone, he’s pouty but quiet, realizing he can’t stop you.

Now… the real issue is, when you start willingly throwing yourself into danger to protect him.

He’s fighting a few vermin, no major thing for him, swift bursts being thrown out until he’s knocked down, Mitachurl managing to take him by surprise, making you step in. All he can think is how stupid you are for doing such a thing! You don’t have a vision, Archons! He’s not even sure you even know how to wield a weapon!

He has to quickly push you away before you get yourself killed! A burst of anemo thrown at the Churl before it can actually harm you and your fragile body, although he’s not quite quick enough, leading to you getting a bit scuffed.

Its, for once, his turn to tend you…

“You idiot!” His voice is sharp, glare even sharper as you lie in the warmth of the bed, legs tucked beneath the cover while Wanderer rather roughly patches up your broken arm, glaring at your arm as if it has done great atrocities and broke on its own.

“Why did you do that?!” Wanderer hisses, his glare finally curving to meet your gaze, sharp as he gives a light squeeze to your arm, making you wince with pain as you falter to find words, mouth opening and closing as you look at him, before looking away, his tightened grip softening as he sighed, shaking his head.

“You’re an idiot, you don’t have a vision, I’m not even sure if you know how to use a weapon…. you could’ve gotten killed…” His voice, now softer, murmurs, quietly working to patch up the break, frowning as his glare softened slightly. He didn’t know why he found himself worried over you, why the thought of you dead bothered him so much. “Explain, explain your actions.”

“I… don’t know,” You shrugged, chest rising and falling with a soft sigh, eyes casting away, voice soft and filled will a small bit of fright… although he seemed to see right through that, his glare sharpening.

“Don’t. Lie. You know why, spit it out.”

“I just… don’t want to see you hurt…” You murmured, shrugging softly as you fiddled with your sleeve, looking away.

“Why?”

You remained quiet, lips locked shut. Gaze refusing to meet his, making him huff with annoyance, giving a tug to the bandages, making them tighten around your arm, sharply wincing before Wanderer gave a small move to untighten it, raising an eyebrow, “Why? I want answers.”

…

“I… I guess I view you as a little sibling…?”

That made Wanderer completely pause, confusion completely over taking his face as he attempted to register what you had just said meanwhile you refused to meet his gaze, looking down, grip tight on the blankets while he computed this strange new information he had received.

“You… view me as a little sibling?”

“Mhm… I don’t know… exactly why—“ Ep ep ep, that raised eyebrow. That stupid raised eyebrow and that look that said “you sure?” that stupid look you were so familiar with receiving from your siblings. “…Okay… maybe its ‘cause… ‘m the oldest in my family… ‘m supposed to care for my siblings… but they aren’t here… but… you just… remind me of them, remind me of my little siblings, even down to strange sibling communication looks…”

“Ah.”

…That was it?— You thought too soon, proceeding to get a light bonk on the head, a sharp glare from Wanderer, “Don’t do something dumb like that again, I can take care of myself just fine in battle!” He snapped, before his eyes softened slightly, looking away with an attempted “I don’t care” look, it made you smile, vaguely remembering that look from your little siblings. “Don’t do something dumb like that again, can’t aaalways be there to save my dumb sister.”

He isn’t sure… how to feel…

Freminet doesn’t tend to get himself into a lot of situations where he’s injured or in danger, the most danger he’s usually in is possibly drowning but he can breathe in the water, thanks to his vision. So really, the highest danger? Getting scraped by a rock, or ending up in a tight space… or attacked by one of the sea creatures— okay maybe there are more then a few things to be worried about…

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t value what you do… but he’s more worried its a waste when you put a little bandaid on his scrapes and scratches. They’ll come off… and the injuries don’t hurt too badly but you insist… and he can’t stop you, really…

He just quietly sits, patiently watching you patch him up, fidgeting with Pers while you apply cute bandaids to his arms, listening to your soft hums.

Now, he’s not usually one to get into fights… but for Pers safety? He’ll certainly try to defend the little clockwork penguin, his little companion managing to wander… straight… into a treasure hoarders camp…

He could’ve handled it fine on his own, he had a few moments where he faltered… and on one moment where he was convinced he was about to receive a shovel to his legs to knock him down? You came in, quick and taking a strong hit to your ankle, a small crack noise heard, making Freminet fight quicker as you fell to the ground, arms wrapping around Pers while Freminet fought.

Then, as swift as he could, he picked you and Pers up, running for it.

He was quiet, worry lacing his face as he quietly wrapped your ankle in a brace, frowning at it while you gently held his clockwork companion, watching it instead of Freminet. Oh he was trying to be so gentle, it was so clear with each movement, carefully wrapping it so it’d work but wouldn’t be too tight, worriedly looking at it for a moment, before his gaze landed on you.

“Why did you do that…?” His voice was soft, like gentle ocean waves, the worried look on his face gaining even more worry as he finished, able to look at you and Pers.

“I… the hoarder… was gonna hurt you…” You chirped, your voice matching his softness, the way he looked like a kicked puppy making you feel guilty, eyes focusing on Pers, the little penguins movements slowing as it settled down… “I couldn’t let you get hurt…”

“I would’ve been okay… I’ll heal…! You… really shouldn’t have taken that hit for me…” Freminet whispered again, voice wavering as he looked away, guilt lacing his own eyes. It was like someone yelling at a child for breaking into the candy jar, both of them looking guilty and refusing to meet any gazes but the floors.

“I’ll heal too.. I’ll be okay, Freminet… promise,” You murmured softly, still looking away.

The silence was deafening, the soft noises of Pers movements being the only noise in the silence… “Why… why did you… take the hit…?”

“I told you…—“

“I mean like… the actual reason… like why you’ve been talking care of me… every time I get hurt… is… you really shouldn’t be wasting so much for me… is there… some catch…?”

“Some catch..? No! No way! Never! There never be a catch for my little brothe—” You managed to catch yourself a little too late, wide eyes blinking at you from Freminet as Pers finally settled down on your lap while Freminet blinked at you several times, “What?”

….

“…There’d never be… a catch for my little brother…?” You gave such a nervous smile, while Freminet blinked even more, like a startled cat, trying to figure out if you had actually just said what escaped your lips, “Little… brother?”

“I’m… sorry if you’re not comfortable with that… I… I don’t know what causes me to view you as a little brother… maybe its just cause… I’m like… the oldest of my family… and you’re… I don’t know…” You chirped softly, folding the blanket a few times like a fan before letting it flop back into place, aware of Freminet’s wide eyes locked on you

“What???”

God the silence was back, louder then before, ironic saying it was silence but there was no noise, just soft inhales and exhales from the duo, not even the soft clicks of Pers.

“I just… feel inclined… to protect you… you… remind me of my siblings… in some ways… and… I don’t know… it makes me… just… want to protect you from harm… I guess…?”

“Oh…”

You decided not to carry on the conversation, shuffling carefully to lay down, putting Pers back on to the nightstand for Freminet to grab while you sidled back into bed, unaware of just how many emotions Freminet went through hearing that.

“Goodnight… uh… sister…?” He whispered softly, shuffling out the door and turning off the lights, leaving Pers under your protection, your eyes wide.

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