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kissingrhi · 2 years

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i just think that jesse gives the best hugs.

you could feel your head pounding, lips dry from the open-mouthed sobbing you’d gotten yourself busy to. some baking show droned on in the background, almost taunting you and your fetal-position. you gripped your knees close to your chest, sniffling and sputtering against your pillow.

you were freezing, yet you couldn’t even move. your anxiety was debilitating. you could hardly breathe, with every inhale you felt like you were drowning. mentally, you were cursing yourself for getting so worked up. you had no idea why you were even upset. your mind was foggy. your throat was raw from the nasty sobs escaping your frame.

you found familiarity in your sadness, melting more and more into your bed until you heard sharp knocking at your front door. you froze, instantly trying to pull yourself together… and failing. you took a minute, attempting to breathe. you just closed your eyes, waiting until said person would leave.

you calmed yourself down, kind of. you weren’t shivering nearly as much, and while your tears were still falling, your wails weren’t echoing around your bedrooms anymore. the knocks returned, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut. your breath hitched, senses amplified as you caught the sound of a key entering the keyhole, a timid “hello?” echoing out of your house.

fuck. you mentally collected yourself, scrambling to sit up. “listen, i don’t know what your problem is but you’re not you, yo.” the words made your heart sting. you hadn’t be able to make time for your boyfriend as of late, a depressive episode clouding it’s way into your body before you could do anything about it. you always blamed it on a hangover, or work stress, but jesse could tell it was something more.

his footsteps made your heartbeat rise, more and more with each one you heard. “i miss you.” he said, under his breath, and you could hear the flush on his cheeks. his voice was almost suspicious. he knew you should’ve been home by now. he made his way to your room, knocking lightly on the door. “it’s me.” was all he said, not even bothering to wait for your confirmation before cracking open the door. you avoided looking at the icy eyes curiously looking through the crack of your door.

you looked into his eyes, your own growing with tears again. “i just-“ and you broke, two tears falling into your lap. jesse tilted his head, gripping your hands, thumbs rubbing over your palms. you two sat there for a moment, your chest beginning to sync with your crying as your eyebrows furrowed, cry-face taking over your features. “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, pretty.” he said, voice gruff.

“what do you want? can i do anything?” you couldn’t even respond. you dropped his hands, shrugging and looking at him with desperation. “i need you.” was all you could muster. as soon as he heard the words leave your mouth he was quick to hold your face, cold hands building a contrast between the warmth festering underneath your cheeks. he brushed stray pieces of hair from your face that had stuck to tears, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe under your nose and lips. it was intimate, how he simply took care of you. the veins in his hands flexed while he treated you with care. like you would break if he was too sudden.

you bit your lip, trying to contain yourself. suddenly you were getting emotional at how much he cared. you were so sentimental it was almost sickening. “no, no-“ he started, hands rubbing up and down your torso. “it’s okay. it’s me. let go. you need it.” he smiled slightly, opening his arms. you opened your mouth to thank him, but he stopped you before you could. “c’mere baby.” instantly, you fell forward, pressing your head into his neck, smelling his familiar musk. his hand made its way to your head, nails scratching your scalp as you finally broke. his other arm squeezed you tight, so tight that you would remember that he was there.

as you cried more and more, he shifted, bringing both of his arms around your neck. he held you tight, being your own personal comfort blanket. you bawled against his chest, fist gripping onto his shirt, almost like an infant would. he found a way to smile, kissing your forehead, mumbling kindness. “that’s it. let go.” “it’s okay, i promise you i’m here.” “i love you.” your crying was continuous, yet he was patient. you were settled into his lap, shaking against his body. he was your rock.

you stayed like that until you calmed down, looking up to find him looking at you with nothing but love. his grip was strong as he pulled you away for a second, making eye contact with a smile before kissing you on the forehead, and tucking you in with him for the night.

#hurt/comfort my favorite #jesse pinkman x reader #i love him so much #comfort character for life #breaking bad x reader #inspired by the panic attack i had last week

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ricesinspo · 4 months

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☆ — 'someone finally cares about you' prompts. by @ricesinspo, credits appreciated!

— ☆ —

[★] they wrapped their arms around you - you can't remember the last time someone hugged you like this.

[★] getting pulled aside while everyone else is yelling at you. they get you like none of the others do; they know not to yell.

[★] patiently listening to all of your problems. like actually listening.

[★] ^ with no judgement.

[★] they notice whenever something's wrong.

[★] letting you cry into their arms. telling you it's okay, everything is okay - and you know it's true because they're with you.

[★] letting you cry at all; realizing you don't have to hide your tears in front of them.

[★] "in a world where people don't care about me, i'm lucky to have you."

[★] ^ and then they're like "who hurt you" / "where are your __ i just want to talk" lmao

— ☆ —

#ricesinspo #writing inspiration #writing prompts #hurt/comfort prompts #relationship prompts #otp prompts #imagine your otp #these prompts arent exclusively romantic btw!! just tagging these because yeah #care about you prompts #last year i read a fic that had the 2nd scenario and honestly #to this day i still dont know how to feel about my favorite character living out my fantasy #situation prompts

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versasfanficwastedump · 6 days

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i don’t know what i’m talking about but i think my favorite type of injured!character is the cornered animal, and there’s two types

there’s the stray cornered animal, who watches warily, just out of arms reach. a sudden movement and they’ll flee. soft voices, kind smiles, gently coaxing them to come out, it’s okay, i won’t hurt you, i only want to help. they want to let you help them, but it hurts and they’re scared. gentle persistence will have them slowly creep toward you, carefully extending their injured limb or hesitantly laying back for you to examine them.

then there’s the abused cornered animal. they know better than to let someone get so close when they’re so weak. they’ll patch themselves up, thank you very much, and growl when you get too close. they have no desire to trust you, because they’re in pain and believe you’ll only hurt them further. they don’t want help. in fact, get too close and they’ll bite and scratch and kick until you back away again. the only thing you can do is watch from the sidelines until they can’t reach that one cut on their back to stitch it up, or their hands are shaking too much to wrap their ankle properly.

#whump #whump writing #whump community #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump tropes #hurt/comfort #these are my favorite characters to write #fic writing #fic prompt #fanfic prompt #fic ideas

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queenie-ofthe-void · 2 months

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Stuck

~1.5k words || rating: teen || cws: dissociation; unlabeled neurodivergencies and mental illnesses

He’s never quite sure how it happens, seeming to always sneak up on him. One minute he’s up and moving around, usually cleaning, organizing, or just meandering around the house. The next, he’s lying on the floor in the middle of the living room. He tries to move but can’t. Not because he’s physically restrained, like when the rope from the Russians cut into his wrists or how the vines constricted his neck.

No, Steve’s just lying here on the floor, trapped in his own mind. His eyes are raw, stinging with dryness. Painful tingles pop throughout his right arm from where his head rests heavy on his bicep. His hip and shoulder ache. He can’t move or talk or blink. Can barely think. He’s not in his body.

He’s lost. Stuck.

Getting stuck means losing time, chunks of days lost to a void. It means missing meals and unanswered phone calls. Growing up, it felt like an escape. A safe way to pass the time between eating and sleeping. He’d come back to himself, sometimes hours later, sore and hungry, mustering up energy he didn’t have. Once, his parents discovered him frozen on the ground. Mom’s yelling and Dad’s foot shoving his side brought him jolting back into his body. Like waking from a nightmare, rising from the dead chased by panic.

It happens less now, but still catches up to him when he’s exhausted. He thinks today it was the kids– they were particularly obnoxious. Yelling excitedly about Eddie’s new campaign ideas, trucking in snow from outside after building a demo-snowman. Cooking for them, cleaning after them, getting them home safe.

Yeah, he gets how he maybe overdid it a bit.

But with Eddie here, it’s easier. His sweetheart always knows how to help, usually checking up on him after stressful days. Hopefully he comes to check on him soon.

Because Steve can’t move. Or talk. Or even blink.

The sun is starting to set.

~~~

The Party were extra chaotic today, pushing him to the fringes of patience. He’s thrilled they’re excited about his newest campaign ideas, but god, did they have to be so unbearably loud about it? Dustin’s screeches are still rattling between his ears. Not to mention the soreness he feels from helping the kids build a snowman demo-thing and the ensuing snowball fight.

The idea of an occult campaign has been percolating in Eddie’s brain for weeks, and after the day he’s had, he’s lost to the research. Perched on a chair upstairs in their bedroom, books are scattered across the desk and onto their bed next to him. Typically, creative deep-dives restore his energy after a long day. But when he’s well and truly exhausted, he’ll lose hours at a time to the work. Getting stuck, according to Steve. And yeah, Eddie can see how that fits.

Growing up, Eddie would lose hours throwing himself into his latest and greatest project, whether it be drawing, playing guitar, writing campaigns, reading or even the time he tried juggling. Entranced by his newest obsession, his surroundings would fade into the background. He’d forget to do his homework, to eat or drink. Hell, sometimes he’d forget to pee. Wayne’d drop a gentle hand to his shoulder– pulling him back to reality– and he’d take off like a shot to the bathroom. Every sensation hitting all at once: bladder about to burst, stomach rumbling, dry mouth, headache, body stiff and achy.

As he gets older, it’s still a frequent occurrence. So Robin had given him the idea of setting alarms, saying it helps her remember to take breaks while studying. And he’s thankful, because it works like a charm when he actually remembers. But when he forgets, his Stevie takes care of him.

He’ll find Eddie crouched awkwardly by the desk, eyes manic, only seeing what’s in front of him. Eddie will eat or drink anything Steve gives him, barely tasting whatever it is, just as long as he can see it. And Steve lets him be for at least a few hours so he can burn energy into whatever project he's lost himself in. All Steve cares is that he’s fed and hydrated. Usually, Eddie comes to slowly, with Steve’s fingers gently carding through his hair, or soft strokes up and down his spine.

Now Eddie breaks his own musings, eyes strained, hungry, and needing to stretch. He can’t help but wonder why his sweetheart hasn’t checked on him.

Moonlight is shining through the window.

~~~

It’s eerily quiet as Eddie makes his way down the stairs. He half expects to find Steve stress-baking, but the kitchen is dark.

So he checks the garage– the car is still here. And the backyard– he never sits by the pool alone. Then the front porch– maybe he went out for a smoke.

Guilt eats at Eddie as he finds his beautiful boy on the living room floor, curled into himself.

Stuck.

He hates finding Steve like this– stuck and lost like Eddie’s engrossed fantasies. Yet so, so different.

The first time Eddie found him, unresponsive and immovable, he spiraled into a panic so strong Steve had broken free of his own melancholy, finding Eddie hyperventilating and sobbing in the midst of a flashback. Too much like Chrissy. Like Patrick and Nancy.

They'd talked about it. And Eddie had appreciated afterwards how Steve struggled to describe what being stuck feels like, why it happens, what to do about it. It'd helped.

So on grey days, long nights, the holidays, or when the kids are extra rowdy, Eddie looks for the signs. He's been good about getting Steve to slow down before it's too late.

But on rare occasions, there will be a day like today. When it’s too much for both of them.

Eddie doesn't know how long his baby’s been lying here. Doesn't know when he ate or drank or even blinked. Because he’d holed himself up, desperate for time alone to just think. To be with himself after spending all day surrounded by people. But he forgot to set an alarm, assuming Steve would be there.

He focuses on his sweetheart, slowly kneeling down next to him so as not to startle him. Remembers all of the tips and tricks Steve needs.

"Hey honey," Eddie whispers, close enough to be present but not overwhelming. "Don't worry baby we'll get you unstuck I promise. I'm going to reach out and grab your hand now ok?"

He continues to whisper gentle praises and reassurances as he holds Steve's hand. It's limp for a time, and Eddie is hungry, but he doesn't stop. Time is lost to them both again, until he feels a slight squeeze on his fingers. Steve finally blinks, slow and hard.

"Hey big boy, love to see those pretty, long eyelashes.” He smiles down at his baby, honeyed hazel eyes slowly refocusing. “Alright, once for no and two for yes: do you want me to help you onto the couch?"

A full minute passes before Eddie feels two gentle squeezes to his fingers.

"That's great sweetheart. I'm gonna tilt you to sit up and we'll get you settled. Then I'm going to ask if you want anything. Ready?" Two squeezes.

They finally get to the couch, and Eddie can already feel a strong sense of relief at just seeing his baby move off the floor. He hears Steve's back pop as they stand, decides he'll give him a massage later.

It goes on. And on and on. Eddie follows the process of squeezes until Steve is unstuck and back in his body.

"Water?" Two squeezes.

"Food?" One squeeze.

"Blanket?" Two squeezes.

Eddie's patience always pays off. He's got Steve set up on the couch, hydrated and relaxed, with his favorite movie playing softly. He’s managed to grab a bowl of cereal for himself. They're cuddled and warm with Steve’s head in his lap. Eddie glides his fingers up and down the sore side of Steve’s body, gently squeezing as he goes.

~~~

Steve comes back to himself surrounded by love.

His eyes sting and his mouth is dry. He doesn't know what time it is, but notices the sun has long set, moonlight shining through the curtains. The bones in his neck crack and his joints pop as he stretches.

But he's warm under the blankets, tucked into his boyfriend's chest as they watch the teddy bear Star Wars. Eddie's loosely twirling the hairs at the nape of his neck, lightly tugging and sending tingles down his spine. There's a glass of water and crackers on the table in front of him.

Getting stuck inside his head terrifies him, something he dreads as much as the night terrors.

But with Eddie, it's easier, happens less often. And when it does, he always wakes up to love.

~~

This was a pure self-indulgence fic. An exact recreation of my relationship with my partner. It fits my headcanon for the boys perfectly (though I'm obviously biased haha)

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #hurt/comfort #steve harrington does not feel his feelings it's practically canon #steve harrington is my favorite self insert and i will continue to do so until i get so sick of writing myself i go back to canon #rinse and repeat #eddie munson #eddie munson is the personification of adhd #have you seen that man's bedroom? it's definitely canon #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things ficlet #QueenieWritesStories

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marmastry · 1 year

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Agent 3s

#That was supposed to be a very short self-indulgent doodle (4-page max) but it ended up being a little bit more lol #It also took a lot of redrawing for me to be satisfied with ahhhhh #that's why the format feels a little informal (bcoz it just started as doodle) so please excuse how rough-looking it is ><#the earlier drafts were a bit spicier #but I had to tone it down if I want to stay consistent with what I've been building on RIP.#anyway this is just me paying a little homage to one of my favorite Ao3 tags: Hurt & comfort #there was only one bed #etc dsfadgfd #moomers #mayamaya #hasahasa #fancomics #splatoonOC #splatoon3 #hasamaya

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everlarksquell · 5 months

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« Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. »

will always be a sucker for a hurt/comfort post-nightmare moment.

#YOU DONT UNDERSTAND THE WAY I LIVE FOR THIS TROPE #the comfort he gives her has me in tears #no but seriously #hurt/comfort #is part of my top favorite tropes #i love them #thg #everlark #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #katniss and peeta #the hunger games #the hunger games series #thg series #nightmares

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officialmiintee · 1 year

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some reonagi scribble practice

#artists on tumblr #fanart #blue lock #blue lock fanart #reo mikage #nagi seishiro #reonagi #reo x nagi #nagi x reo #idk how to tag ships here in tumblr tbh #but them #they r my fav flavor of hurt and comfort thus they are now my favorite too #reonagi the pain to my happy bachisagi #mint archive ; art

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shepherdfeathers · 3 months

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Knock, Knock!

Page 4

First • Previous • Next

Ah ah ah, no powers for you!

Comic based on @prince-liest’s fanfiction Knock, Knock! It's Your Worst Fucking Nightmare!

Story by Princeliest on Ao3

#y’all idk how to draw blood pls forgive #we are about to get to one of my favorite parts tho #I’m fucking pumped #Hazbin hotel #Alastor #Alastor comic #Hazbin Alastor #Hazbin Adam #Alastor whump #Alastor injured #Alastor hurt #hurt/comfort #major character injury #whumblr #whump

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saltwaterflower · 26 days

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Sapphire Haze

Nearly titled this one "Delirious in Dungeon." Might regret later not having taken that opportunity.

Laios and Kabru stumble upon a patch of mysterious sapphire-capped mushrooms. Despite Kabru's reservations, Laios can't resist tasting one.

#labru #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #labru fanfic #dunmeshi #laios touden #laios x kabru #kabru dunmeshi #missing scene fic #will most likely become canon divergent AU entirely as i progress with this series #sharing a bed trope #hurt/comfort #first kiss #had to do my classic and favorite tropes for this

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watermelonsverything · 1 year

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Raph needs a therapy animal.

Pepperoni is here!

#im trying to get back in the groove #its so hard #painting hurts and its not making me happy 🙄 but im trying!#raph is my favorite and he deserves comfort after the movie #pepperoni tmnt #raphael #tmnt #rottmnt #saverottmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #my art

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snowangeldotmp3 · 8 months

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thick skull never did (nothing for me)

for ronancetober free day (part one)

(or, the spider-nance au)

The good news: Nancy’s back is not as torn up as her face and torso, only little cuts here and there and what Robin can suspect will be a whole lot of bruising. But for now, nothing that some smaller bandaids can’t fix. The bad news: that’s got to be painful as hell. Robin’s not entirely sure how Nancy’s still alive right now. By all accounts, Nancy should be dead. Not sitting here in Robin and Steve’s shared bathroom nearly bleeding out all over the linoleum tile and into the bathtub.

#ronance #stranger things #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #spider-nance #guess whos back. back again. nancy's back. tell a friend.#my writing #my moodboards #not my favorite but spider-nance has more to come Later so #any hurt/comfort anyone? spare hurt/comfort?#gay wound tending? pls?#anyway. going to bed now see u guys l8r #ronancetober #<- updating tags so i can come back and find it later

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queenie-ofthe-void · 1 month

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A Desperate Fool pt 2

written for @steddiemicrofic

Prompt: 'top' | wc: 510 | rated: T | cw: hurt/no comfort (comfort is coming I promise!), mentions of child abandonment, breakup fic, AU-Modern Rockstar!Eddie

This is a direct follow-up to my April submission A Desperate Fool

~~~

“Hey, Teddy Bear!”

Eddie quickly scans for the voice piercing the buzzing swarm of paparazzi outside his home. It’s a cold winter night, yet after his public outburst with Robin a week ago and the ensuing onslaught of viral videos, they never seem to leave. Attention that used to have him feeling on top of the world now only leaves him feeling like the scum of the earth.

The overtly personal nickname rings through his memories, filling him with hope and dread in equal measure.

If I’m your baby, Eds, then you’re my Teddy Bear.

A swath of red hair and a high fade catch his gaze against the light snowfall. The boy’s usual charming smile’s been replaced with a cold stare, while she’s actively scowling. Eddie rushes through the crowd, excited to see them after so long despite the circumstances. He pulls them into the safety of his home, slamming the door behind them.

“Did you honestly think Steve was the only person you abandoned?” Max asks, before Eddie can even say hello.

Abandoned. A low blow, throwing Eddie’s childhood in his face, at least before he was adopted in all but name by the Wheeler’s. But coming from Max, he thinks maybe it’s fair play. She’s always been more Harrington than Mayfield, Lucas too. Out of the bunch, they’ve always been Steve’s kids.

“Mike had to go back to therapy! Nancy actually cried,” she spits, pacing the foyer while Lucas stands stoic by the door.

“I didn’t think they’d-” Eddie starts before he’s interrupted.

“What? That your family wouldn’t be upset, feel as betrayed as Steve?” Lucas finally speaks up. “So when you bragged about outgrowing your roots, that wasn’t supposed to mean us too?”

Eddie shrinks in on himself. He’s being admonished in his own home, and he knows he deserves it. He knows, truly. He just can’t handle the overwhelming aches of guilt and regret, which pang louder with each disappointed loved one. Another reminder he’d surrounded himself with people who only care about Metal Munson.

He’s foolishly desperate to win back his family, people who loved him for himself. He wants to be Eddie again. His baby’s Teddy Bear.

“What-” he tries again, forcing words around the growing knot in his throat and watery eyes. He’s cried so much lately. “Why are you here?”

Max eyes him skeptically, glancing at Lucas and sharing a look Eddie can’t decipher. They make a silent decision, and she moves to stand by her husband at the door.

“Steve’s getting married this summer,” she states, like it’s nothing. Like it’s not the end of Eddie’s world.

The tears fall, then. He loses control of a sob before he gets his voice back. “To who?” he pitifully asks, pretending he actually wants to know.

“You don’t know her,” Lucas replies.

Her. Her. Herherherher.

“Oh,” Eddie says softly. He can’t stop shaking, or is the earth quaking beneath him.

Max sighs, sympathetic, and rips his world open further still.

“Steve wants to talk, but you’ll have to get through Nancy first.”

~~~

I SWEAR it's gonna get better!!! Some solid Eddie and Nancy comfort coming up next. Think I might keep adding on to this fic via prompts only but we'll see.

#eddie is officially a wheeler sibling in this fic #hurt/no comfort (but the comfort IS IN FACT on it's way)#rockstar eddie munson #modern au #steddie breakup #eddie munson whump #steddie microfic #steddie ficlet #steddie prompt #eddie munson #hurt/no comfort #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #lumax #steve and max #steve and max is still my favorite thing #QueenieWritesStories

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ixtaek · 2 months

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Tall

Four is hit by a spell that makes him grow. This has side effects.

(I’m not super happy with it but writer’s block does what it wants!)

#linked universe #LinkedUniverse #Lu four #Lu wind #this was supposed to be funny and then it got sad #also Wind is doing the comforting because he’s my favorite deal with it #whump #hurt/comfort

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rayno-minior · 19 days

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Roman and Pip AAAAAAAAAHHH

when they only have each other RAAAAAAAH

finding solace together AAAH

#reverie audios #reverie roman #reverie pip #literally 'they only have each other' is one of my favorite tropes #its such good hurt/comfort #they will be the end of me

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hannibard · 8 months

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I'm just a tad obsessed

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kennysaysthings · 1 year

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“I hate the miscommunication trope” “the worst trope by far”

There is nothing better than the pining and wanting while not being able to say it. Seeing characters want something so badly but are unable to just say that they want it, wether out of fear the other doesn’t or simply because they have this internal conflict of do they or don’t they. The simple things they can’t bring themselves to say out loud. Seeing the click of realization/confirmation as they lay it all out in front of them, as a simple few words could unravel them completely. Or “Your love passed me by,” the missed opportunity the unfortunate time spent waiting when there was no reason, THE WASTED TIME. They could’ve been anything else if they just said it, if they’d let themselves have it.

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