#bad day comfort

[brokenpieces-72]

It would be great for some fluff, maybe even have Farah and Alex join in on the fluff. No pressure :)

I’m gonna admit right now that I requested this request. I like getting requests and at the time I am writing this I’ve got some stuff going on that makes me feel like crap so in a way this fluff is beneficial to me as well.

For some extra context, this takes place in the COD Gangster AU.

……………….

You’ve had shitty days before and today is no different. You’re tired, exhausted and just want to go home. Go to your room and curl up and maybe cry a little. But someone finds you before you can make it there.

Kyle notices you acting awfully quiet at the pub, while you help with unloading small crates. Your sighs and muttering are clear. You’re upset, so when everything is moved he takes a detour back home. Gets you your favourite food, asking to make sure you get it exactly how you like it. He doesn’t take you straight to the hide out and instead takes you to somewhere quiet where you can just be alone together for a bit. Kyle gets you to move to the back seat with him so you guys can eat without messing up the front. He asks you if you’re okay and you not, and sniff. The tears are coming down now. You get a hug and he reassures you that whatever it is, everything will be okay. Whatever was going on or needed to be done, could wait for tomorrow. Tonight it was just you, him, good food and some YouTube.

Johnny sees you go to your room and when you don’t respond to his welcome he knows something ain’t right. He knocks on your door and you tell him to come in. Your voice is shaky. What happened? Who hurt you? Where are they?! (All of this is internal). You tell him you just had a bad day, and want to be alone. Johnny understands and leaves. He comes back. There’s an extra blanket, your favourite snacks and your favourite drink and if you need anything, he’s in the kitchen. You ask him to stay, and he does. You end up using him as a pillow, leaning against him sitting between his legs. He’s texted Price to say he can’t do much today but has good reason. Johnny lets you talk about whatever you want, whether it’s the shit you dealt with today or something completely off topic. Honestly there’s benefits on both sides cause he finds it adorable when you talk about your favourite things.

Simon is a bit different. He’s not very close to you but he overhears your frustration when you walk in the front door. You don’t notice him right away but he sees your tears. He doesn’t know what happened and he doesn’t need to know. He and his stray companion knock on your door. Simon hears you crying, and you open the door. The first one you notice is the cat, who rubs against your legs. Simon says she wanted to see you. That helps, knowing someone was happy to see you. Simon tells you the guys will be back soon, and if you want to order food. You say that’s fine, but instead of letting you go back to your room, he invites you out to the living room, where you find a pillow, blanket and a water bottle waiting for you, inviting you to turn on the tv for some background noise while he does some work. He keeps looking up at you, curled with the cat on the couch, content.

Price sees you frustrated as you’re leaving the pub. He’s finished his work for the day and calls after you before you open the door. You just want to walk back by yourself, but he isn’t about to let that happen when you’re not doing well. Price gets his coat on and walks back with you. It’s awkward silence at first but he starts a conversation, asking if you have anything you’d like to ask about him, the gang, the pub, etc. No? Then he’ll ask you. Do you enjoy helping at the pub? Is your art going well? Anyone been giving you a hard time lately? The last question has you already pawing at your eyes. Without a word he has an arm around you, reminding you that you’re walking together. You can let it out, or chat about something else. You two can make a small stop on the way home. Not everyone is going to like you, that’s not your fault. But the ones who do, they’ll walk with you.

Farah finds you hugging your knees, shoulders bobbing from sobs. Alex was dealing with the problem now it was clean up. Farah’s footsteps are audible, you can hear them on the rocky asphalt. You look up wiping your eyes, sitting up a bit. Farah sits down next to you and when you start apologizing she stops you. Not your fault, everyone has off days. You were smart to find a spot like this to blow off steam. Despite her saying it wasn’t your fault you keep insisting it was, explaining how you messed up. Farah assures you that everyone trips and has off days. For now you two can wait here until Alex gets everything sorted with the asshole who was giving you a hard time. You did your best, that’s all she was asking in the first place.

Alex is dropping by the police station when he sees you off to the side of it, staring at the ground. He says hello, but you’re distant. Not like you. He gets a bad feeling and asks you to wait up for him. When he comes back out he asks what’s going on, though he can guess by the comments he overheard when I’m the station. Got reamed out pretty good. Yeah that’s never fun. Alex reminds you it happens to everyone. Remember for next time, that’s all you can do. Doesn’t do much. Taking the extra step he invites you over to his place for some food. Packaged dinner sounds pretty inviting after the long day you’ve had. Alex even fires up some video games for the two of you, and your frustration is now redirected on him for being so good at Mario party. At least he got you to start smiling.

Graves believe it or not, knows you’re having a bad day but he can’t always help you. For him he knows if all he does is comfort you, the other guys will just say you’re being coddled. Clearly today is an exception. You’re not okay, and it shows. You’re trying to hide in your work, not show your emotions. Yeah sometimes your dad did that too. He asks if you’re free tomorrow, and through the lump in your throat, you say yes. Tomorrow comes and he takes you to some of your favourite spots. Some of them are stores and notices you keep staring at something. You guys spend the morning together and it’s just a casual hangout. By the end though he asks if you’re doing okay. You nod and say I’m fine. No you’re not but he doesn’t push and instead gives you the thing you were staring at earlier. You’ve been working hard kid. Don’t forget to reward yourself.

Note: Just a small extra edit, I honestly needed this myself, because unfortunately I have been dealing was some very frustrating issues regarding my career life. I’ll likely come back to this post to add some stuff, but wanted to just do some sweet and simple fluff. I love you all and appreciate your love and support for the stuff I make on here. I plan to branch out to other fandoms and hope to have your support on those as well. Wish you all the best and my request box is always open.

@yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @tai-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666

#john soap mactavish #cod au #task force 141 x reader #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #farah karim #alex keller #cod gangster au #gangster au #comfort #fluff #bad day comfort #we all know it #phillip graves #gn reader #reader comfort #bad day

[kywaslost]

Night In *Imagine Series Platonic*

A/N: Posting 2 days in a row?? That hasn’t happened in a while lol

Warnings: mentions of bad day

“Birdie? You home?” Hawks called throughout his apartment. He had just gotten off of afternoon patrol, and he knew you had the night off. What he didn’t know was where you had taken off to and what you were up to. He kicked off his boots and pulled off his hero jacket, hanging it up before searching the house for you. He poked his head in several rooms before pushing your slightly ajar door open. He poked his head in to see you curled up in your bed, wings puffed out and spread across the room.

“Oh, hey! There you are!” he smiled softly. “May I come in?” He heard you hum softly as he stepped into the dark room. “You ok in here kiddo?” He plopped himself down on the bed beside you, being cautious of your open wings.

You shrugged your shoulders and hummed in question. “I ‘on’t know, not really feeling it I guess,” you confessed, fiddling with the strings of your hoodie. “Bad day.”

Hawks rested a hand on your knee. “Aw, I’m sorry dove.” He thought for a moment. “Want to have a night in? We can go to the nest and binge tv shows or movies?”

“Sure,” you spoke quietly, sitting up and uncovering yourself from the blanket. Hawks stood, waiting for you to follow. You reached your hand out hesitantly, quietly asking for permission to hold his own. Hawks took your hand in his and let you cling to his arm as he led you into what the two of you liked to call ‘the nesting room’. In reality, it was a room full of blankets, pillows, and soft furniture accompanied by fairy lights and a giant flat screen tv. 

He led you over to a giant pile of blankets and pillows before slowly taking his arm back. “I’m going to go change super quick, and then we can get started, yeah?” You nodded as he gave you a soft smile and left the room. Hawks returned ten minutes later with snacks and drinks. He placed them on the floor beside your ‘nest’ before laying down beside you, pulling one of the many blankets around the two of you.

“Ok with touch?” he asked. You nodded, letting Hawks snake his arm under your neck and around your shoulders. You leaned against his side and watched as he flicked on the tv, scrolling through various streaming services. “What do you want to watch?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said softly. “I’ll probably sleep through it anyway.”

Keigo chuckled. “Tired?” You nodded against his shoulder. “How about (favorite movie/tv show)?” he suggested. 

“Sounds good to me.” Hawks found your favorite movie/tv show and then reached for the bowl of popcorn he had made. He placed it in between the two of you as the movie started. “So, not a good day, huh?” he asked softly.

“Not really,” you answered, taking a handful of popcorn slowly. “Nothing happened. I guess I’m just having an off day.”

“And that’s a-ok,” Hawks reassured, ruffling your hair slightly. “These days come and go. Just know that I’m here for you, ok?”

“Yeah, ok,” you smiled slightly, slowly falling asleep on your ‘older brother’s’ shoulder. He really did make sure you always felt safe and loved.

#bnha #bnha hawks #mha #mha hawks #keigo #keigo takami #takami #comfort #bnha comfort #mha comfort #x reader #platonic #hawks x reader #hawks x reader platonic #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #bad day comfort #hawks imagine

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

#almost wrote the champagne line as ''effervescent'' but legit could not write it without saying ''effervescent like a snail'' #ah tumblr... #writeblr #warm up #idk . having trouble writing rn #ps i don't like to talk about it . it is my medical information. but before you ask. yes this is about being on the spectrum #i really don't like when ppl make my writing about how im [whatever ID]. i want it to ring true for the people who it rings true for #i don't want it to be like ''awwwww look at this person!!! she's the EXCEPTION!!! :)" ..... #no.... not really..... #idk something gross happens whenever i admit to certain conditions and i turn into like inspiration p*rnography #like yes they actually let us use keyboards these days #furthermore i just... dont feel comfortable talking about this part of me. i had too bad of a childhood. adhd is one thing... #this one im like. still coming to terms with. which is like. my own journey. #idk. just please be kind. some things are more private than others. this one feels private to me. #i do not know how to help others w/this . and i do not know how to help myself. i will talk about it if im ever ready. idk if that will #actually ever happen #ty in advance i love u im kissing you we are kissing somewhere on the spectrum

[bumbleboa]

thinking about them

#one piece #cat burglar nami #nefertari vivi #had a bad day so I decided to use one of my many photo reference packs to draw these two for comfort #it did make me feel a lot better #my art

[sophsicle]

"No, don't - don't come any closer."

"Reg-" "Please, please, I don't want you to see me like this, just let me - let me clean myself up and-"

"You're shaking."

"Sorry."

"You don't - Reg - Regulus, stop, hey," he takes the other boy by the arm as he tries to get past him, pulling him in.

"I'm sorry," Regulus says again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry."

"Sh, sh, it's alright, we're alright," Regulus is flush against his chest, head tucked beneath his chin.

"I don't know why I'm crying."

"You don't need to have a reason." "You shouldn't have to come home to this." "What are you talking about? I get to come home to you. That's all that matters." Regulus shakes his head against James's shirt, sniffling. "I'll get myself together." "I don't mind you apart." "I meant to have dinner ready." "I'm not hungry." "James." "Regulus." "I don't know what's wrong with me," he says miserably. "Nothing, nothing's wrong," and then, after a brief pause, and in a voice so gentle Regulus doesn't know how it's even possible: "You're just depressed." Regulus half-laughs and half-sobs into James. "You have no tact, anyone ever tell you that? No tact at all."

"You tell me all the time," kissing the top of his head and holding him more tightly. A few seconds pass before: "I love you, you know?"

Regulus's hands are all twisted up in James's shirt, a wounded noise coming out of his mouth. "I thought it might stop, now that..." "That?" "You and I are..that we're so good. I thought it might stop." "Don't think it works like that."

"I'm sorry." "No," kissing his head again. His temple. His ear. His cheek. "I don't mind Regulus, I really don't. You just need to tell me, okay? Tell me when you feel it coming on, and I'll know and I'll be here."

#when i feel bad i write james comforting regulus #and i feel better #im sure a therapist would have a field day with that one #jegulus #soph rambles #regulus black #james potter

[dickfuckk]

Every time i tell people i buy groceries every 14 days they seem shocked by this and tell me they buy groceries every day or several times a week.

That in turn blows my mind, as someone who couldn’t possibly hate buying groceries more than i do, i can’t imagine doing it that often.

Bonus if you tell me in the tags how you feel about shopping for groceries. Do you hate it with a passion like me? Feel indifferent to it, just another chore? Or do you somehow love it?

#poll #i do it every 14 days to save money tbh lmao #if i had a comfortable budget i might do it once a week #but honestly every 14 days works so well #it’s rare enough that i can enjoy 14 days of peace #but not so far between that the food goes bad before i manage to use it #it’s just the perfect amount

[miiukkaa]

i wanna hear him give absolutely horrible speeches (everyone would go apeshit nonetheless)

#miiukkart #sorry for not posting as often as i wish did. been fighting depression (no worries. im a seasoned fighter) #(ik i dont have to feel bad for not posting but i just miss drawing silly turtle stuff and seeing ppl enjoy said silly stuff!!) #hope yOURE doing okay tho!!! if not no worries. slay one day at a time #*patting you on the head while offering you your comfort food(s)*

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

This was home.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #blood #Good bye Jiang Disciples. May you live on in the Lan Wangji in lotus pier AU. #This is going to be the start of a bunch of sad scenes I desperately try to undercut with humour. #You may ask where Elle Woods is considering her help was requested. #The canon answer is that she didn't make it there in time. This is the reason why WWX has the pink phone in present day. #It is a favour she owes him out of apology. #I am also making it canon that Jiang Cheng hates Elle Woods for not being there. His two Nemeses in PD-MDZS are Elle and WWX. #This is why Jiang Cheng doesn't have the phone. He would hunt her down but Bruiser bit him really bad last time he tried. #His pride is too hurt to try again. #I don't think I've done a wordless comic in a while - what a fun challenge! #I'm getting lots of practice with backgrounds in the last few comics - I really feel like I'm getting more comfortable with it! #Obviously I still have a long way to go but this is a journey B*)

[stevebabey]

steve harrington but it's that jeff winger moment from community. if u have seen community, u will know... my first stobin-centric piece <3 tw for parental neglect and a prior act of self-harm. this is absolutely on the steve harrington has bad parents train <3

“Steven, this is ridiculous.”

Robin freezes in place. Her hand hovers over the remote she's just placed back down, her limbs locking up one by one at the sound of the voice at the door.

It is not a familiar voice. She knows who it is all the same.

She fights not to move, knowing the couch springs, old and rusted, threaten to reveal her hiding place, even if it is her house. Robin is very much allowed to be here. Expected, even.

But Steve? Steve is not.

It’s why there’s one Christine Harrington on the dingy porch steps.

It’s an unwelcome surprise — even after all the fuss of the 4th of July, a thousand police sirens, endless NDAs, and too much blood on his uniform, Steve’s parents hadn’t shown.

Out of town, Steve had said, his bashed in face making it impossible to read his expression. His eyes were haunted and misty but Robin couldn’t tell if it was from the horror of the night or… a loneliness far older.

So Robin had done the fussing. Had dragged him home with her, shooed away her rightfully nosy parents, and mended him up on her bathroom counter.

Steve had been silent, a little wide-eyed as she worked on each cut, each bruise — but with her gentle touch, he had been helpless to do anything but melt beneath it.

He’d called her Robbie for the first time that night. They’d fallen asleep with their hands intertwined, her arm hanging off the bed to reach out to him on her bedroom floor.

Robin still hasn’t met Steve’s parents, even though it’s been more than a couple months since that night.

She’s been to his house countless times too. She knows where the spare key is, if she ever loses her own copy, that is. Knows which stair squeaks on the way up to the second floor and how the lock on the downstairs bathroom gets jammed too easily.

She’s eaten the best grilled cheese of her life in their kitchen, sitting on the counter.

She’s laughed so hard she’s cried on their couch, getting the throw pillows wet with her happy tears.

She’s still never met Steve’s parents. Til right now.

Christine Harrington has her arms wrapped tight around her frame and Robin has no doubt that on her face is a frown that could make babies cry.

She can’t see her face though. Can only just see a glimpse of her tense body from where she sits. Steve blocks part of her view, his own tense frame in the doorway.

He’d answered the door instead of Robin only because he had the foresight to glance at the front window after the first rap at the door. It was late. Robin’s parents certainly wouldn’t knock at their own home and neither of them were expecting visitors.

The expensive car in the drive, a sore thumb along Robin’s street, had given away the identity of just who was knocking so late in the evening. So, Steve had opened it.

“Mom—”

“I mean utterly ridiculous.” Steve gets cut off without second thought, Christine continuing on as if she hasn’t heard him at all.

“Did you expect us to spend all evening chasing you around? Figuring out where you were tonight from the Carlton’s across the road?”

She’s got this snippy tone that Robin’s heard a thousand times from teachers. Patronising. Too cold for it to seem like a genuinely concerned parent.

“The Carlton’s?” Steve echoes, a bit meek. His shoulders have rolled forward, sinking down a bit and Robin can see his tight grip on the door. Still, she stays frozen, rooted to the couch.

“Yes, Steven.” Christine says his full name again, all bite. “Imagine the shame your father and I felt hearing that. Hearing who you had been associating with.”

“Don’t say that.” Steve grits out immediately, anger bleeding into his tone.

The muscles in his back ripple as he forces his shoulders back, as if he had remembered how to stand up straight at the mention of his friend.

Robin aches; at the reminder of the stark differences of their upbringings and at Steve’s unquestionable loyalty. She finally unfreezes, sitting up a little straighter and leaning forward more— ready to spring up from her seat.

She’s not sure what for exactly. She sorta really wants to go slam the door on Steve’s mom’s face and go back to being bundled up on the couch with him. The urge is strong enough to make her fingers twitch.

“Why are you here, Mom?”

There’s a strain to Steve’s question, even though he doesn’t falter in appearance. Robin can’t see his face either though. She hopes it’s got the bitchiest expression Steve can muster.

“Don’t be smart, Steven.” Christine reprimands coldly. “I know that we may have taken a larger absence than intended but that’s not any excuse to parade yourself around with the strays of this town.”

Strays. Robin feels the word pelt into her and burn into her skin, sinking all the way down. It feels like cold water has tipped down the back of her neck. An unwelcome pit forms in her stomach.

She had known, of course, the reputation of a family like the Harrington's. She hadn’t quite known the extent they would go to protect it. Policing your child's friends over a matter of image is absurd.

Somehow, Robin can see how Steve grows even tenser at his mom’s words— hackles raising like that on a dog. His knuckles turn white. But before he speaks, Christine is barreling on like she hasn’t just slandered every one of Steve’s new friends.

“And to leave the house in such a state?”

Robin hears her sigh heavily, as though this really is the biggest problem in her life — which she can’t fathom in the slightest.

There was nothing wrong with Steve’s house. No mess beyond the usual evidence that someone, you know, lived there.

“Mom, I—” Steve starts again.

“Well, I’m sure you have your reasons. You always do.” She says it so pointedly, like Steve was known for peddling lies to weasel his way out of trouble.

It’s so un-Steve it makes Robin blink hard, wondering if she had heard right.

Steve was honest. He owned his mistakes and he took things on the chin. It was something she had liked most about him in the beginning.

Back when it was all snark and Robin told herself she was never going to be his friend, in this universe or anything other. That even then, reluctant co-worker and nothing more, Steve was honest and decent to her always.

“Now, come on now.” Christine Harrington huffs out her demand. “Your father is waiting in the car and there no use winding him up more than you already have.”

Robin’s stomach turns at her words. It had been a topic of discussion between them, one night weeks ago, lips loosened by the dark. I feel like a dog to them, Steve had admitted quietly, his breath against her pillow and his warmth under her sheets. Like they just leave alone most of the time but expect me to perk up and come running the moment they call. I hate it.

“I’m not coming with you.”

The words stammer on their way out like he had forced them out— and Robin wants to sing she’s so proud of her best friend.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not coming with you.” Steve repeats himself, the words a little firmer this time. “I’m… I’m spending the night here, with my friend Robin.”

He trails off, the words weaker, losing steam. Robin rises to her feet, the tell-tale squeak of the couch springs letting Steve know she was still here. Still right behind him.

It makes him stand a little straighter.

“I— I’ll come home in the morning.”

Christine Harrington makes a little scoffing noise, a high pitched faux laugh as if Steve’s said something amusing.

“Tell me when did I raise such an ungrateful brat?” She muses meanly and Robin doesn’t miss the way Steve flinches lightly. “We give you free rein of the house, apt time by yourself, and yet when we request you to spend a single evening with us—”

“You’re not asking, you’re demanding.” Steve cuts in, his voice more heated now.

“Oh hush, Steven. You act as if we’re so awful.”

It’s all dismissal. Everything, every word, a dismissal.

“I just can’t win with you, can I?” Christine sighs again, disappointment dripping from the sound. “Either we’re not here enough or we’re here but you can’t find time to have dinner with your family. Which is it, Steven?”

In the doorway, Steve begins to bristle. Robin really, really wants to slam the door now — if only to stop this conversation that seems to keep cutting deeper and deeper into her best friend.

She steps closer to him, moving as silently as she can, and makes sure to stay out of sight as she places a hand gently on the small of his back.

He’s shaking, she realises.

Her heart twists painfully in her chest.

Then, deathly calm, Steve says, “Did you know in 7th grade, I lied and I told everyone in my class that I got appendicitis?”

Robin blinks at the change in subject, the strangeness of Steve’s comment. She does remember that, vaguely. A boy in the year above— it had been a wildfire rumour that had turned out to be true.

Or so she thought. Staring hard at the planes of Steve’s back, the pit in her stomach yawns with an anticipation of devastation. Her hand on his back curls up a bit.

“You and Dad were gone for the whole month to Washington. It was the first time you had ever gone for that long and you didn’t even tell me until the day before you left.”

“Steven—”

“I just wanted someone to worry about me.” He steamrolls on, tone too casual for the story he was telling. “And it worked."

A beat.

"But then Cassie Lange asked about the scar.”

Robin’s hand on Steve's back twists up tighter. She feels like she knows what’s coming— but wishes it to be not true.

She doesn’t want to think of Steve, little twelve year old Steve, doing all that he can for a scrap of attention he was supposed to be getting from his parents.

“And rather than admit I’d lied…” The words come out too tight. “I went and found your sewing scissors and I made one.”

There’s this icy bite to Steve’s voice, his shoulders tensed back up. Christine still hasn’t said anything.

“I hurt like a bitch but it was worth it. I got a card from every single person in my class.”

“You wanna see the scar?” He asks— then he’s moving, his hand rucking up his sweater and shirt and exposing the skin of his stomach. Christine makes a noise like a muffled gasp. Robin feels a bit sick. Steve drops his shirt.

“And I kept all of those cards I got —all 17 of them stashed them under my bed in a box that I still have til this day.” He exhales through his nose. “Because it was proof that, at some point, somebody actually gave a shit about me. Because you didn’t. You didn’t then and you don’t get to now.”

His words hang in the air. There’s a long stretch of silence where Steve stares down the woman on the porch— someone closer to a stranger than a friend.

“So, I will see you at home, tomorrow.”

And then he slams the door to Robin’s house shut with a finality that shakes the air. Robin tenses up at the loud noise. Steve doesn't move, just stays staring at the closed door.

Behind them both, one of the noisy pipes in the house makes a loud noise. It sounds worse than usual as it breaks the silence.

Outside, Robin hears the click of heels on the pavement as they quieten, moving further away.

The pit in her stomach tightens immeasurably, a faint bile taste in her mouth. She finally remembers to smooth out her hand, pressing it flat against Steven’s back— another reminder that she was there.

If he wanted to talk or he didn’t, she was there.

Suddenly Steve sighs, an exhale so large that he shrinks down a couple inches, his shoulders dropping. It sounds exhausted.

He finally turns away from the door, to Robin, and she can only hope her face conveys every ounce of love, of support, she feels within her chest.

“Steve…” She breathes softly.

He wasn’t crying but just the sound of his name, spoken so delicately, seems to inspire tears. Robin catches the tremble of his lip and moves without thought— throwing both her arms around his neck and wrestling him into a hug.

Steve goes easy, his arms snaking around her middle and holding her back so tightly it nearly makes her squeak. She doesn’t though— just lets him bury his face in her neck, taking these big shuddering breaths, these half-formed sobs that break her heart clean in half.

She doesn’t know how long they stand there. Car engines drone as they pass by the street. The streetlights seem to get brighter. Steve presses himself so close to her, as close as he can, and Robin hugs back just as tight. She gives him all the time he needs.

She wonders if there’s an indent of him on her when he finally pulls back — a Steve Harrington shaped outline imprinted on her soul. It feels like there is.

If she could trace it, she thinks, it would be whatever shape love takes.

“Thanks Robbie.” He croaks out. He’s started scrubbing furiously at his face and she can see the wet sheen of tears as he wipes them away.

Robin doesn’t move far, just unwinds her arms a bit and lets them fall back to her sides. There’s an ache between her brows from how long she’s been frowning in concern. Steve looks more disheveled than usual, his usually perfect hair looking flatter — but he looks lighter too, somehow.

“No need to thank me, dingus.” She says, voice soft. She faux punches his chest and then regrets it when his lips don’t even twitch upward. It’s weird to see Steve all undone.

Robin thinks back to that conversation and the callousness of Steve’s mom. Her uncaring tone, the use of his full name like an insult.

She thinks of what Steve had said.

“I’m sorry you felt—” The words get stuck in her throat which grows thicker as she thinks about it. About a self-made scar on Steve’s abdomen, made by a twelve year old boy who just wanted someone to worry.

“—That you felt like you had to do something like that to yourself. I’m sorry no one noticed what you really needed.”

Steve nods slowly, his eyes glazed with a far away look as he stares somewhere over Robin’s shoulder. He gives this little shrug, a little huff through his nose.

“It’s okay.” He says, voice a bit distant. “I mean, it’s not but… even if I hadn’t meant to tell you, I’m glad someone knows now.”

It takes another second before he finally seems to shake himself from his thoughts, turning to properly look at Robin. His eyes are red-rimmed and the tip of his nose is pink. Tell tale signs of tears.

“I’ve never told anyone that before.”

Robin swallows thickly and it takes effort to choke down the urge to cry.

“Well,” She starts. It comes out too high pitched and tight and she clears her throat. “Thank you for telling me.

Some kind of smile plays on Steve’s lips, as if he can tell that she’s fighting off her sniffling and it’s sorta funny to him. It is, a little.

Because instead of being embarrassed or feeling pitied, he feels… delightfully surprised to have her care so much. To be so upset on his behalf.

“Oh, c’mon Robbie,” He gives her that same faux-punch in the shoulder she did earlier and it actually succeeds in making her lips pull up at the edges. “None of that.”

“You’re such a dingus.” Robin says. It comes out a bit wobbly still. Sue her— she doesn’t have Steve’s insane ability to bounce from one emotion to another in a single second.

Steve grins. He wanders back to the couch and flops down onto it. Robin follows and when she sits down, it’s a fraction closer to him this time. He gives one last scrub of his face, wiping the last of his tears away.

She nudges him with her thigh. She has to check just one more time.

“You alright?”

Steve smiles, crooked in that way that lets her know it’s completely sincere. He reaches forward and presses unmute on the remote, the film they’re watching starting up again with a buzz.

Steve presses his thigh back against Robin’s and in the dim lighting of her living room, his eyes glitter with an emotion that threatens to make her want to cry once more.

“Course.” He says. “I got someone checking up on me now,”

Another pointed nudge of his thigh against hers. “I’m better than ever.”

#everybody say it with me now: OOF #the writing of this episode is so good and i simply cannot resist the brainworms when it fits too well #i love making them hurt so they can comfort each other <3 #robin remains to this day the only one who knows the truth about that scar #stobin my beloved #ruby writes steve & robin #... new tag used shlay #steve & robin #steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates #stobin ficlet #stobin drabble #i love these besties w all my freaking bones #idk tell me how i did. or dont. but please #steve harrington has bad parents #steve harrington whump #steve harrington hurt/comfort #platonic with a capital p

[mothfables]

Legend sniffled. Today was awful. Everything hurt, and all he wanted was to lie down and sleep for as long as possible. Preferably wrapped in as many blankets as he could get his hands on. Hands that were currently shaking too hard to even set up his bedroll.

They’d stopped for the night, and Legend could hear the others getting ready for dinner. He sniffed again, giving up on his bedroll, and instead wrapped his arms around himself as he stumbled over to his brothers.

Twilight paused in his conversation with Warriors when Legend appeared and pressed himself against the rancher’s chest. The younger boy grasped at his shirt with shaking hands and Twilight didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his brother. Then he lowered the both of them to the ground, holding Legend as he trembled.

“Shh, shh, I gotcha,” he murmured, running a gentle hand through soft pink hair. Legend hiccuped and pressed closer.

Suddenly he was dissolving into black particles and Twilight panicked, scrambling to grab onto him as the other hero shrunk before his eyes. He could hear his brothers shouting as Legend seemed to disappear before their eyes, then shocked silence when the twilight magic dispersed to reveal a small, pink rabbit.

“What in the goddesses’ name-” Wars exclaimed and Twilight chanced a glance upwards to see him gaping like a fish in a net.

“Don’t yell, yer gunna scare ‘im,” Twilight chastised quietly. He turned back to try to continue soothing his brother-turned-rabbit. Legend’s trembling had gotten worse and he hunched in on himself at the noise, making himself even smaller.

The rancher shushed and cooed, reaching forward to scoop up his brother’s tiny body and tuck it against his chest. Legend whined at the movement before giving a shaky sigh as Twilight ran a hand along his back. He tried to burrow into the pelt wrapped around the older hero’s shoulders, giving him an idea.

Shifting to hold Legend in one hand he pulled the pelt off and draped it over his lap. Then he lowered his brother down and wrapped him gently in the fur, creating a warm, protective bundle that the younger immediately huddled into.

Twilight continued to pet him; soft gentle strokes that made Legend shudder and sigh. The bunny in his lap shifted for a moment before settling and Twilight felt him go lax, trembling finally easing.

It was quiet for a few moments. Then Wars spoke up, his voice low and worried.

“...Is he alright? Does he need anything?” Twilight moved his gaze up from the bundle in his lap to find all of his brothers staring at him, worry and concern clear in their expressions. Sky subtly laid a hand on the Master Sword with a questioning tilt of his head. Twilight shook his head in return.

“Jist havin’ a bad day an’ needed sum comfort, s’all,” he replied. Sky nodded and the others relaxed, reassured their rancher had it handled.

Twilight would give his brother all the comfort he needed, no matter what form he was in or how long it took. As long as Legend needed him, he would be there.

#moth’s tales #linked universe #linked universe fanfiction #lu legend #bunny legend #lu twilight #fanfiction #hurt/comfort #legend has a bad day and needs cuddles #which twilight is happy to give

[giddlygoat]

i remembered this post existed and frantically drew this at 1 am last night

#hi. i had a horrible day at work lol like my “bad things that can happen” bingo is COMPLETELY filled out <3 #so here’s my comfort divorced married couple. sits politely and smiles #the stanley parable #stanley tsp #the narrator tsp #stannarrator #im tagging the ship bc i drew this with it in mind so ?? i guess it counts #giddly’s art #tsp #stanley #the narrator #i completely bullshat the perspective btw i don’t care lol

[o-vera-nalyzing]

look i know the most likely option for why kipperlilly hates riz specifically is that he like has amazing grades and good friends and is one of agueforts faves while like chronically skipping class and breaking the rules (and laws) but i also have 18 stupid ass reasons i wrote down from rewatching s1 that i think are funnier

#i have not stopped thinking about her mentioning him in counseling since we learned ab it clearly #i also wanna know if it was before or after gibbons died caus it would be really fucking funny if it was quite literally the first day #also it’s crazy she felt comfortable talking to jawbone about all that considering the bad kids basically got him the job #thought i think jawbone would very much understand anger issues and feeling unfairly treated in the system ngl #anyways #fhjy spoilers #d20 fhjy #fantasy high #fhjy #kipperlilly copperkettle #riz gukgak #jawbone o'shaughnessey #original overanalyzing

[zimthandmade]

Play wrestling!!

----- My other socials Commission Info Let's drink some Ko-Fi! 🍵

#i had a bad flu these last days #and period is haunting me equally bad #im just in permanent discomfort and pain #im not fine #no concentration #no motivation #my head is goo #but these two dorks bring me some comfort #death note #fanart #mello #matt #mello x matt #matt x mello #mellodramattic #sketch #wammys boys #wammys house #wammy boys #wammy kids #wammy's house #mihael keehl #mail jeevas #gay #couple #relationship #lgbtq #boyfriends #dn au 2.1 #my art

[inkskinned]

as we enter the start of a semester and the dreaded Hour of Making Friends us upon us... if ur ever at a loss for what to say in one of those weird social situations where you only vaguely-know people, one of my favorite questions to ask is "what is your favorite food crime." a food crime is like the food combination that you love that other people find revolting. press them to take it further than pineapple on pizza, that's rote. food crimes is a good topic that has many benefits as it turns out all people are degenerates and also it will give you some cool ideas to try out later in the privacy of your own degenerate kitchen

the other good thing to ask is "okay but has anyone here ever been someplace haunted" bc it turns out if you ask most people directly they don't believe in ghosts, but many people are like "oh yeah i lived in a haunted house. ghosts aren't real tho"

#my food crime is that i regularly make a “pasta and tuna” situation that has somehow gotten even more evil and degenerate over time. #it is a ''white wine reduction'' (it's just white wine and garlic powder & seasoning) #and tuna from a can. #and plain pasta. #if i have the spoons i will actually chop garlic for it but this tends to be my comfort food for a REALLY bad day #bc its super easy to make: #boil pasta. drain. put into bowl for later. into same pot u used for pasta. #put tuna (with oil/water from can). let fry a little for like 2-3 min. put in whatever amount of wine. season to taste. #the tuna will get a little crisp on it which is nice. important side note: #this began as a Bolognese sauce. #and one day i had to sub for tuna. i know. not ideal. i cried about it too. #somehow over time it is now its own little evil thing. i would never make someone else eat it. it is beautiful. #but yeah i don't even stir the pasta in afterwards i just slap pasta into serving bowl #slap this ''''''sauce'''''''' on top #molto bene #(i really can cook fairly well btw. this is a food crime. not a suggestion of skill or ability) #(i LOVE baking but when i cook for myself. the autism is obvious. bc i just don't understand the point of most of the steps) #(.... i can just eat the deli meat out of the bag. it is protein. i don't even have to like it. i just have to eat enough calories.) #(also i used to cook MUCH more before this apartment which is so small that i can stretch my arms out and overreach the counter length.) #(.... i'm 5.2. so.)

[greelin]

i remember talking about having rescue meds for panic attacks and having the other person be like Well why do you need that… 😒 f. for the panic attacks?????? Hello

#i had to take them a lot more but have had to less these days. #still the Having them is comforting. idk #i don’t really feel like getting so bad i have to go to the fucking ER and get a shot of ativan and kept overnight again. My bad

[natelia-aldelliz]

After the Chicago mission ! (Soap probably asks Ghost to close the curtains after that)

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #soapghost #thought of two things : #one : what if soap developped a fear of heights and didn't realise how bad it got until he has to scale a building during a mission #and has a giant panic attack and the others have to find a way around that and it makes him feel like a failure #and two : what if he has abandonment issues and convinced himself that his place in his relationship with ghost was to be funny and goofy #and to comfort him when he feels down and since he was the one that had to be comforted he's now scared that he failed in his role and #that ghost will abandon him for that and after a few days of angst and avoidance he ends up admitting that to ghost after he asks #and ghost tells him that it's not a healthy way to think and they work on that