crowley-com

[crowley-com]

Hey :) how you doing?

would you write shota x platonic! student reader (or older s/o) who’s having a panic attack and he helps them through it? hella introverted reader, some comfort? i understand if you don’t want to write this, thought id try.

Back and Forth

Pairing: Aizawa Shota x Reader

Word Count: 1,702

Warnings: Allusions to a panic attack, established relationship

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff!

Description: When your mind keeps you up at night, far from the clutches of slumber, Shota is quick to come to your aid.

Author's note: Hey, love! Thank you so much for your request and your patience! This one was a bit challenging, hence why it took so long, but I hope the wait was worth it— even if a bit!

Join the taglist here!

Masterlist

•

Shota knew something was wrong the moment he woke up.

Groggily, he patted your side of the bed, frowning at your absence. Scarred fingers feathered over cold sheets, sending a chill of dread down his spine. A dizzying sense of unease spilled into his stomach, making him groan as he sat up, sunken eyes roaming over the room in search of you. 

“Angel?” he rasped, voice rumbling thickly with the remnants of heavy slumber. His ears rang at the lack of response; his heart dropped. When he called out for you again and silence fleeted back to him as a reply, he nearly toppled out of bed. Hurriedly, he crossed the room, almost tripping and falling over as his feet got tangled on the bedsheets. He cursed colorfully, kicking them away before carefully opening the bedroom door. 

Truthfully, part of him expected to be plunged into the darkness of night as he stepped out of the room, yet he found himself grateful for the glow of the kitchen lights. Even if they burned his eyes, they meant that you were home. You’re here. 

He was ready to release a sigh of relief, to grumble and tug at your sleeves until he'd convinced you to go back to sleep with him, but a muffled sniffle had him freezing mid-step. Sorrow softened the sharp lines of his gaze, fingers fluttering anxiously by his sides. A trembling breath breezed past his lips. Turning the corner, he got a full view of a shattered scene, and his heart ached with every beat against his chest. 

Flour, eggs, milk, and an assortment of other ingredients cluttered the once clean countertops, seemingly discarded before even half of them were put to use. Shota gaped at the sight before pressing his lips into a thin line. Concern bubbled in his veins as he recalled the last time this had happened; he suddenly found himself glad he’d woken up. Carefully stepping further into the kitchen, he found you curled up in a corner, trembling as you pressed a hand to your mouth, muffling your cries. 

"Oh," Shota breathed, running a hand over his face in concern. Carefully, he knelt before you, though you didn't seem to notice he was there. Choked sobs flooded the air, pained and panicked, your chest heaving with each strangled breath. His heart ached. A hesitant hand reached out for you, stalling to see it you pulled away and cupped your cheek when you didn’t. With your cheek squished against the palm of his hand, he gently ran his thumb over your skin, each loving touch erasing the trails marked by stinging tears. “What can I do?”

Unable to provide a verbal response, frustration boiled in your veins along with a stream of panic as you turned to hide your face in his touch. You clung to his wrist as if keeping him in place would alleviate the sinking pit of dread that made your stomach turn. You shook your head with a sharp, desperate gasp of air. 

Shota frowned. “Hey, hey,” he called, careful to keep his voice low and gentle. “Angel, listen to me, alright?” His other hand reached up to trace the arch of your brow. Feathered touches trailed over the contour of your cheekbones, and he dared to capture a stray tear with a careful pressing of his lips over your skin. "We're going to get your breathing under control," he reassured. "Can you do that with me?"

You squeezed his wrist and nodded against his hand, hiccuping on a whimper. When he tugged at your hand, placing it over his chest, you didn't pull away. Instead, you slumped against him, burying your face by his beating heart.

A smile dared to tug at the corners of his lips. "Alright," he hummed, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head. “Repeat after me, angel.” He waited for a response and continued once you tapped your fingers over his chest, “Breathe in,” His chest swelled as he inhaled, exaggerating his breaths in hopes of prompting you into following along. He held in the air until he saw you mimicking his actions. “And breathe out.” Slowly, he blew out the air through parted lips, feeling light as you followed him through drying tears. “One more time?”

As you followed him through the breathing exercise, you felt the built-up anxiety puff out past your lips, your lungs putting all their might into expelling the troubles that followed you. Soft weeping escaped you, your shoulders trembling with the remnants of your pain and fear. 

“C’mon,” Shota clicked his tongue, falling onto his bum as he tugged on your hand, pulling you onto his lap. “Keep breathing with me, angel. You can do it.” He encouraged, letting his lungs expand with deep breaths. “That’s it,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, tightening his hold around you as you snuggled closer to him. He smiled. “Better?”

You grumbled halfheartedly into the crook of his neck and nodded. A beat passed before you spoke up, “I’m sorry,” Your voice crumbled as seeped past chattering teeth, low and uncertain. "I'm so sorry—"

He hushed you softly, tracing shapes and patterns over your back, his touch soft and adoring. Understanding balmed his words carefully, allowing for them to slip off his tongue with ease, "Stop that," Your soft trembling tore at his heart. "You have nothing to apologize for."

But your mind said otherwise. "I made a mess," you cried, eyeing the ingredients you left unattended. "I woke you up," Squeezing further into his embrace, you hoped to hide away from the shadows lurking in your mind. "And now you had to deal with this!" The dejected note in your words tore at your throat bitterly, upsetting your chest with ragged breaths. 

Shota's breath hitched and he instinctively pulled you in closer, gently rocking you back and forth rhythmically. He wondered if you knew how he'd spend every waking moment by your side if given the chance. A deep breath drew his shoulders back and when he exhaled, he sagged over you, his back curving as if shielding you from terrors unknown.

"This," he breathed, gently yet firmly. "Will never be too much for me— you'll never be too much for me. I believe we vowed for better or for worse, right?" A low hum rippled through his chest when you nodded meekly. "Then that's exactly how it'll be, angel." 

A cry sputtered past your quivering lips. "But Shota—"

You weren't given the chance to finish when he pulled away slightly, carefully angling your face to meet his softened gaze. "I don't want to hear any of that," He sighed, "You've seen things, angel, and you've gone through things that weren't so good. I know it can get bad at times— feeling like you're constantly in danger when you're not is a scary thing." 

Cupping your cheeks, he pulled you close, letting your foreheads meet softly. Your breaths mingled as he continued, "But when that brain of yours lies to you, saying something's out to hurt you," He smiled reassuringly, "I'll be here to keep you safe, always."

Trying to meet him halfway, you gave a wavering smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He confirmed, caressing the apples of your cheeks.

Melting into his touch, you muttered through quivering lips, your words trembling with emotion, "My hero."

In a cheap attempt at hiding the blooming tint in his cheeks, he pulled you against him, keeping you close to his heart as he settled his chin over the top of your head. Tightening his arms around you, he felt contempt while sitting on the kitchen floors as your chest rose and fell softly. 

His sore eyes were just fluttering to a close when your hushed voice sprang him to attention. "Can you do it again?" you asked.

Inky brows pulled together curiously. "Do what?"

You snuggled further into him, hiding in his chest. "That back and forth thing you did earlier," a quick beat passed before you continued, "It felt nice."

A breath of amusement spilled past his lips. "Alright," he relented. He could never say no to you. "But let's get off the floor." He figured the tears might've worn you out. It was best to keep you where you'd be comfortable.

With ease, he bundled you into his arms and kept you close to his chest as he maneuvered you both off the floors and back into your shared bedroom. Shota settled by the edge of the bed, his heart a puddle as he glanced down at you. Adjusting his grip, he sat you on his lap and slowly began rocking you back and forth, warmth pooling his stomach the moment you hummed sleepily.

Feeling you, so small and fragile in his arms, he swore his soul was bursting with more love than his poor aching heart could contain. Still, he relished the feeling of innocent intimacy that such a moment with you provided him with, cherishing the realities of a love so raw and pure. Shota adored every bit of it.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, holding you with care, still going in slow, rocking motions. He'd do it forever if it guaranteed you peaceful slumber. Sore eyes glanced at the cracked door, catching sight of the illuminated kitchen. With a short shake of his head, he smiled. He'd have to clean up later. But for now, his interest was solely tethered to your rhythmic breathing and the slight slacking of your lips.

With a final kiss to the top of your head, he hoped that, somehow, you'd always understand how dearly he adored you. Every beat of his heart was wholly devoted to you. Every breath from the depths of his lungs ached to utter your name like a prayer. 

Whether you fell three steps back or ran a mile before him, Shota would always be there by your side. And if you were to ever fall, he'd be ready to offer a hand to pull you back onto your feet. 

Nothing that your mind was capable of conjuring could ever scare him away. He was here to stay, now and forevermore. 

•

🏷 Aizawa taglist

@runaowo @beecca9 @bandaidfaerie @zawasleepingbag @retaaschilling @rvgrsbrns @samx-jpeg @girl_lost_not_found @sir-knight-slytherdor @justheretoaskandread @andrastesbeard @yaskna @izukus-gf @imloudafsocoveryourears @ikisstoga @uchija @0o0ychan0o0 @violet-19999 @celestair @redspade227 @laylarosemav178213 @escapismescape  @onebigfangirl @ghostly-haunted @Bluetima @deitysnips @eternallyvenus @mommym1lkers @chaoticmomenergy @esposadomd @aconstructofamind @childofopulence

[crowley-com]

ANOTHER TROUBLED NIGHT

One-shot  |  Masterlist 

Pairing: Aizawa × GN!reader | Words: 1,5K

Fandom: BNHA | MHA  | Categories: SFW, comfort

CW: Night terror, anxiety/panic attack description, psychosis description, insinuation of self-harm. Please do not read if you think you could be triggered by any of these.

A/N: I've had this written in my notes app for a while. Thought I'd share how I'd like to receive comfort after a rough night.

You woke up with a loud gasp for air, your eyes widening as you felt something wet run down your cheeks. Your breathing was rapid; you were covered in a cold sweat and trembling like crazy. 

You sat up straight, attempting to take deep breaths as you wiped away all the tears off your face, desperately trying to calm yourself down at the realization that you were only dreaming.

But you could not slow down your heart rate, and you started to feel yourself hyperventilating – you could hardly breathe, your vision blurring due to your need for crying; It did not help that it felt like someone had stabbed an ice pick right through your chest, making it hard to swallow your spit.

You were becoming terrified by now, your mind going blank as you tried to steady yourself. Your head was pounding so hard that everything seemed out of place. 

You also felt tremendously nauseous from the stress your brain kept producing throughout your dream, and you thought you could hear people shouting behind closed doors, though you knew it was not real. Nonetheless, the sound rumbled in your eardrums, making your headache worse.

'Am I having a panic attack right now? What's going on?!' You tried to reason. However, the thoughts running rampant through your mind caused you to get lost, unable to think about anything else.

All you could focus on was the pounding of your head and how weak you felt, how you were shaking uncontrollably, and how your heart seemed to speed up exponentially every second you breathed.

You could feel the sweat pouring down your forehead and neck, although you were unsure whether or not it was because you were hot or freaking out. At this point, it was hard to tell where your dream had ended and where the reality began. 

Everything was too chaotic, too vivid, and too overwhelming. Everything around you felt so real, yet nothing made sense. You could even feel paws crawling under your skin, which drove you insane. If you could move throughout your daze, you would try to rip your skin off you now.

From far away, you heard another strangled sound, and your head immediately whipped toward where it came from; that was no good, and you felt yourself starting to drown in the panic. The only sound you could hear properly was the high-pitched ringing in your ears.

It only increased your already high heartbeat, making it almost impossible for you to think straight. And when you heard that weird sound again, you tried your hardest to snap yourself out of your panicked state; you had to ground yourself at least a little.

Then, you spotted a blurry figure next to you. However, you could not make sense of whatever was happening – everything felt fuzzy, especially with the loud noise in your ears.

And when your eyes focused on the figure, you forced yourself to try to make out the form. You thought it looked like a guy, and he looked just as terrified as you did;

It took a long moment before you finally recognized the person sitting next to you. It was the same man that lay limp next to you before, but now he was awake. And he was watching you with wide – horrified, red eyes. He was frozen, not moving a single muscle while his gaze bore into yours.

And after what felt like an eternity, you noticed that his mouth was moving slightly, but it seemed as if nothing would come out of it. At least, not until you heard him speak. His voice was faint at first, barely audible. Yet, you managed to make out a word eventually.

"...green?" He mouthed, and your confusion only multiplied after hearing that. You were so confused; it was difficult to focus on anything anymore.

"Can you tell me something yellow, then?" He tried again. His words sounded slurred, but you still managed to comprehend them.

All you could answer was a confused "huh?!" Before you blinked, causing the blurriness to disappear slowly, allowing you to see your surroundings again. It was a very familiar area, and your heart beat harder at realizing it was home. Still, you could not remember what happened before you had woken up.

"...baby?" Aizawa called again, his voice low for fear of startling you even more. Your gaze lingered for a moment on nothing specific around the room before returning to his face. And for even longer, all you could do was stare, dumbfounded. You were not even sure what the hell you should say. It was almost like you had forgotten how to speak.

Another couple of minutes passed with Shōta staring back at you, patiently waiting for an answer. He was getting worried; you could tell. But he was afraid of saying or doing anything wrong, so he stayed quiet, waiting for you to be ready.

And you finally opened your mouth, although it was shaky and unsure. You were still somewhat lost in your daze, your mind slowly processing what was happening and what Aizawa asked you to explain. So, all you could come up with in your head was a simple sentence.

"Your sleeping bag." You murmured, and Aizawa seemed to let out a sigh of relief, smiling softly at you.

That calmed you enough to give you some semblance of clarity, although you still looked quite distressed. And as Shōta watched your expression change to a normal-like one after a few seconds, however, another wave of concern washed over him.

His smile faded a bit. He had you speaking, and that was a huge win. But he had to make sure you would stay grounded.

Then, he opened his mouth to ask something else, but before he could say it, you realized that your previous statement did not quite capture what he was trying to ask you, so you repeated yourself to try and convey better.

"Your sleeping bag," you said again, "is yellow."

This time, you had Aizawa nodding, his face breaking into a relieved smile. "Good job," he spoke quietly, and you stared at him for a few seconds before turning your gaze downwards.

"Can you count your breathing, babe?" He continued, "can you listen to mine? Just follow it." He instructed. You nodded, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down.

You listened carefully and tried to breathe slowly, repeating the motions until you got the hang of it. And when you finished a few rounds, your heartbeat was almost normal, and you turned your head back up, looking at the man next to you.

He gave you another encouraging nod, and now it was your turn to smile.

"Is there anyone else here with us?" The ravenette asked you once you finished regulating your breathing. He needed to know if you were still delusional. And for his relief, you shook your head, as you did not have any energy for talking now. 

Aizawa relaxed visibly, glad you were at least aware enough to communicate with him. He wanted to comfort and reassure you, but he also needed to reassure himself that you were okay with that;

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you need to use the bathroom?" He inquired, his tone was soft and kind but with worry lacing each syllable.

You shook your head again, though you did feel thirsty. And you needed to use the toilet. But you figured there was nothing much you could do – even if your legs worked perfectly fine, they would not be able to carry you anywhere by now.

Not that you minded too much, though. If anything, you could sit in one place for hours without needing anything in your current state.

But you could tell that Aizawa was growing anxious again. So, you reached forward and grabbed one of his hands without thinking twice about it, giving him a gentle squeeze, to which he squeezed back reassuringly.

"How about we lie down for a while?" He offered after a moment of silence. "Then, once you have rested, we can talk about it if you feel like it."

You nodded again. That was a relief; you didn't want to talk anymore today. And honestly, you barely could lift your eyelids, and you just wished this episode to be over with;

So, as soon as you lay down, you curled into a ball against Aizawa’s side, resting your head against his shoulder. He then wrapped his arm loosely around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his chest.

You felt his chin resting atop your head, and his scent instantly engulfed you. "Just take as much time as you need, love." He whispered against your ear. "We'll deal with whatever happens tomorrow." He promised, and you sighed, feeling safe and warm for the first time since... well, ever since you woke up this night.

The only thought going through your mind as you drifted off to sleep was that you needed this. After everything that has been happening to you these past few weeks, it was nice to have someone to lean on. Someone willing to carry the burden with you.

[crowley-com]

I have a request for 616 Strange!

Reader gets injured during a battle and husband Stephen takes care of her afterwards. Like stitching her up and comforting her when he knows that she is scared of needles and feeding her food and stuff.

Stitch you up

Word count: 2k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Fluff/Comfort?

A/N: Thank you for the request, I hope you like this. More requests to come so leave a follow if you want to see more. If anyone else also wants to be added to the tag list, please let me know. 

Even though you and Stephen had been married for two years, he was still just as kind and protective as he was the very first time you met. And that was five years ago, where the two of you had met for the first time ever at Kamar Taj. Time had flown by.

He was also gentle with you. He constantly worried when you got hurt in battles, or even when you just tripped up the stairs at the Sanctum. No matter what the problem was – how big or how small – he was always there to see if you were okay. And you couldn’t help but love him for being so worried about you all the time – even when it wasn’t that big of a deal. He cared about you so much.

******

Your morning was already insane. After waking up, you found out that there had been a rather intense attack just a few streets away from the Sanctum. There were some strange monsters from another planet there on earth, attacking anyone that got in their way. They had large tentacles, ready to cause all kinds of havoc wherever they went.

You, Stephen, and Wong didn’t hesitate. You got to the scene quickly, ready to try and handle the situation. There were three monsters present, each of them hurling their tentacles at cars and buildings. They even tried to grab at the people that were running away in terror.

Working with Stephen, the two of you worked hard on taking down the creatures. It started off as a breeze. Wong got to work on the other monster, and he also had a fairly easy time killing it. But it was the last creature that was giving you all the most trouble. It seemed bigger. Stronger.

You were fighting the last creature, doing your best to keep it from causing any more damage. But then you noticed that it reached out to its side, grabbing a car with one of its tentacles. You panicked at that.

“Stephen, look out!” you yelled as loud as you could. You were totally focused on him, your eyes not leaving him as you suddenly felt a deep fear hit you.

All of a sudden, you were hit with something heavy. A tentacle. You hadn’t been watching everything around you. Your gaze had been on Stephen, allowing the tentacle to smack you out of nowhere. You gasped loudly, your body flying backwards. You hit the rubble of a destroyed building, the wind totally knocked out of you. Your vision suddenly became all blurry as you tried to get your breath back. But your eye lids felt heavy, and you were certain you were going to pass out.

“Y/N!” you heard Stephen call out to you.

He sounded so far away. But he kept crying out your name, and it sounded like he was getting closer and closer by the second. His voice sounded as if it was laced with total panic. When he reached you, you could just make out the sight of his face. You could still barely see. But you did feel him pick you up, carrying you in his strong arms.

“I need to get her back to the Sanctum,” you heard Stephen say. He must have been talking to Wong. “Y/N, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You appreciated his kind words. But you couldn’t focus. Instead, you just shut your eyes and let the darkness take over.

******

You woke up with a low groan. Your body felt so sore, and your head hurt, but you noticed that you were laying on something soft and comfortable.

You were in yours and Stephen’s bed. Which meant you were back at the Sanctum. You were safe.

You felt someone holding your hand, and when you looked to your side, you spotted Stephen. He sat there in a chair he must have placed next to the bed. He gave you a wide eyed look, his lips turned into a frown. You could tell he was worried. And that was when you saw that his eyes were a little red and swollen.

Stephen lifted up his hand to cup your face, his touch so soft and gentle, as if you were made of the most precious glass. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

You nodded gingerly. “How long was I passed out for?”

“A couple of hours.”

“And the creature? Was it killed?”

“Wong took care of it.”

Relief hit you knowing that the creature was gone. “Good. Did I get hurt when that creature threw me into all that rubble?”

You watched Stephen closely as he swallowed his breath. You were certain he was nervous and you hated seeing him like that.

“Well, uh, there’s a massive wound on your leg that needs to be stitched up,” he explained with a deep sigh. “I know you hate needles. I thought bandaging the wound up would be enough to deal with it… But you need stitches, Y/N.”

You shook your head quickly at him. You hated needles more than anything. “No…”

“You can trust me, Y/N. You know I used to be a doctor.”

“It isn’t that,” you frowned. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I do. It’s just… I really hate needles. I don’t want one near me.”

“I know. But if I don’t stitch you up, then your wound can get infected. Or worse…”

You knew he was right. And that he was just trying to look out for you. You just hated needles so much.

“Why did this have to happen?” you mumbled.

Stephen gave you a sweet, soft kiss to the lips. “Just close your eyes while I do it. And think about something else.”

You nodded at his words, still feeling nervous and scared. But you knew Stephen had to do it. You watched him leave the room and return with his first aid kit in his hand. First he cleaned up your leg, using the alcohol wipes to clean your wound. You couldn’t help but notice that his hands were shaking a lot more than they normally would be. You weren’t sure if it was because he was nervous about what your reaction to the needle was going to be, or if it was because his already damaged hands ached more than they usually did. Either way, you noticed the distinct tremble in his hands.

Soon, your wound was all cleaned up – which meant that the needle was about to come next. You watched as Stephen grabbed it and stared at you.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed.

You did as you were told. You didn’t want to look, anyway. For a long moment, you didn’t feel a single thing. No needle. No pain. But then you felt it. The sting of the needle piercing into your soft skin. A whimper fell from your lips as the pain hit you.

You let Stephen get to work, doing your best to think about anything other than what was going on. But instead, you thought about Stephen. You were impressed with how he was able to work so carefully with his trembling hands.

You shouldn’t have done it. You should have just kept your eyes shut, but you couldn’t help yourself when you opened them. When you could focus your vision on Stephen, you could see that he was using magic to carefully stitch up your wound.

That was when you should have shut your eyes. Instead, you saw the needle and quickly covered up your eyes with your hands. The vision of the needle moving in and out of your skin had been too much for you. All you had to do was focus on something else. Anything. Birds, trees, the sun. But it was too hard. All you wanted to do was tell Stephen to stop, but you knew that your wound had to be fixed, and there was only one way to do that.

So, you sat there. You sat there for what felt like hours, letting Stephen get to work so he could help you. And then finally, Stephen spoke up.

“All done,” he said, his voice light. “You can look now.”

Moving your hands and opening up your eyes, you looked down to see your perfectly stitched up wound. It looked so clean. You were so thankful that your husband used to be a doctor.

“Thank you,” you told him, so grateful for his actions.

He smiled at you and leaned across the bed, giving you a soft kiss that you quickly returned.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said.

“I love you too.” You kissed him again, so happy to have him so close.

“You should rest. I’ll make dinner for us both.”

You both shared a sweet, knowing smile. You two didn’t have to say a word as you looked at each other.

“I’ll be back soon with your dinner,” he finally broke the silence.

“Okay.” You watched Stephen leave the room, thankful that the whole stitching ordeal was over.       

******

Forty minutes went by and Stephen arrived with dinner. You sat up slowly before Stephen placed your plate in your lap. The plate felt nice and warm and the smell of the food made you hum. The meal looked delicious, too.

“Thank you,” you told him.

“You’re welcome.” He sat down next to you on the bed, his plate in his hands.

You both ate in silence, eating the delicious meal after such a long and exhausting day. When you were finished up, Stephen took your plates to the kitchen before joining you again in the bedroom. He had brought his laptop with him, and you wondered what he planned on doing with it.

“Would you like to watch a film?” he asked.

“I’d like that,” you nodded. You watched him turn the laptop on and get it all set up, and that was when the joke hit you. “I really hope no more of those creatures turn up again.”

“I hope so too,” Stephen said as he looked at you. “And if any more do show up, then you’re not helping.”

“Why?”

Stephen sucked in a sharp breath, as if he couldn’t get the words out. When he spoke, his voice was oh so quiet. “I almost had a breakdown when I saw that you were hurt and had passed out. Wong had to calm me down.”

“Oh,” you said softly. You hadn’t realised what had happened. That explained why Stephen had red, swollen eyes when you woke up. He had been crying over you. The thought broke your heart. “Well, I won’t help. I don’t want you to experience any more pain in case I get hurt.”

Stephen kissed you slowly. “I can’t lose you. Ever. I wouldn’t know what to do…”

That hit you right in the heart. You felt tears forming in your eyes at that. He seemed so upset about what had happened with you and those monsters. But you wanted to assure him. Wanted him to know that he had nothing to worry about. “Stop thinking like that. I’m not going anywhere.”

You shared a smile after that before Stephen closed the gap between the two of you, giving you a slow kiss.

“Stop thinking about it,” you said. “And let’s start watching this film.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” Stephen was quick to pull up the movie and press play before he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to him.

You held him nice and tight, appreciating his gentle touch as he held you back. You focused on the movie, getting lost in the vibrant colours and loving how Stephen never let go of you. But the day had been crazy, and you soon found yourself feeling rather sleepy. You fell asleep right there and then in Stephen’s arms, so happy that you were home with Stephen, and that your leg was on its way to being healed. Despite how much you hated needles, Stephen had made the whole thing relatively painless. You were beyond thankful.

Tag list: @feral-for-strange @strangesgirl @ironstrange1991 @azu21 @polytheatrix @lucimorningst4r @evelyn-kingsley @silver-shadow @withalittlehoney @amithesimpoffandoms @mirikusashes

[crowley-com]

Genshin men reacting to reader having a panic attack (request)

Genre: comfort

Warnings: panicked reader

Aether - quite collected and reassuring while Paimon panics with you in the background. Aether would stay close to you, counting your breaths for you so you can level them out. Will hug you and kiss you afterwards and take you somewhere nice.

Albedo - actually knows what he's doing. He'll guide you through breathing techniques, reminding you everything will be okay and that he's here. He doesn't touch you unless you ask for it, knowing it can have negative effects on you. Overall very understanding and gentle with you.

Childe - surprisingly gentle. His big brother instincts come into play here. He would talk to you, try to ground you into reality in various ways. Afterwards he'd hold you and try to make you smile. Perhaps a kiss or two will do it and if not, he has more ammunition ready.

Diluc - while he's not the best at dealing with emotions, when he sees you so distressed he stops doing everything and focuses on you. He'd talk slowly and calmly, his hand resting on your shoulder so you know he's there, looking after you. Smiles at you once you beat the panic attack, telling you he's proud of you.

Itto - he realises something is terribly wrong when you don't laugh at his dumb antics. He would pull you into his strong arms, swaying with you from side to side while telling you he's here and that he will protect you. Once you're over it, he will do his best to make you forget about it!

Kaeya - very serious about it, albeit slightly panicked as well. He feels helpless when his words don't calm you down but he doesn't give up and stays with you until you're better. Then he wants to give you the biggest hug, as lpng as you're fine with it.

Kazuha - his soft voice would help to anchor you in reality. He's experienced a few panic attacks of his own and generally knows what helped him. Will tell you to focus on your senses, offering himself as a few of them, notably touch, sight and hearing. He will hold your hand, squeezing it gently, and tell you you're safe. Is very caring afterwards, peppering your face and body with kisses.

Scaramouche - confused but does his best to help you. He'd be very awkward about it, patting your back and trying to tell you encouraging words, something that's so foreign to him but anything for you. When you calm down, he'd hold you, tightly pressing you to his body and not letting you go until your form stops shaking.

Thoma - in pain from seeing you like this, wants to help you in any way possible. Expect a lot of reassurance, his hand resting on your back and drawing circles. Once it's over, he'll offer to cook your comfort food for you and overall he just wants to spend time with you.

Venti - wind starts to caressing you reassuringly, Venti's voice light and carrying with it in perfect harmony. You can't help but immediately feel calmer. Venti would then help you collect yourself, telling you things like this happen but he'll always be with you to help you overcome it, as long as the wind blows.

Xiao - wants to fight whatever made you like this. He doesn't know what to do! He will try to talk to you, unknowingly distracting you from the deeply set panic. He's very careful around you afterwards, and probably asks you what should he do next time this happens. Will bring you anything and do anything you ask for - even if it's cuddles with him.

Zhongli - very calm and collected about it. While he's never experienced panic attack himself, he saw it happen to others. His deep voice is very reassuring, his words kind and supportive. He's very protective of you once you gain your bearings again, lowkey wanting to just hold you for a while.

[crowley-com]

[crowley-com]

PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME — KAEYA. A

synopsis: kaeya's fear of abandonment causes his nightmares to cause havoc. (im bad at summaries SORRY here's an alternative: nightmares + hurt/comfort + abandonment issues)

word count: arounddd 1k

warnings: anxiety attack (please do not read if this triggers you!) and gn! reader, hurt/comfort, angsty (there is comfort at the end i promise)

THE CLOCK rang its historic tune throughout the otherwise quiet house. It was just a little bit past three a.m when your eyes slowly started to open. kaeya laid beside you, curled up on the other side of the bed. 

he had always looked so peaceful when he slept - the mask that he clutched so tightly to his person completely gone. nighttime was the only time when his soul was bared forward without any armor to protect it. 

you wrapped a finger around some of the blue hair that was splayed across the sheets. he looked so beautiful like this, a shining star in the sky. you leaned towards him ever so slightly and left the brush of a kiss on his cheek. 

before going back to sleep you decide to get some water, a late-night water break felt better than anything at the moment. yawning, you slowly clamber out of bed, pushing the covers out of the way when you felt a tight grip on your wrist. you turn to see kaeya still asleep but his chest rising and falling in erratic patterns, loud gasps erupting from his mouth. 

frantically turning on a light on, you try shaking him awake, “kaeya… kaeya!” 

he mumbles slightly in his stupor, the words too quiet to process but the tone was desperate. desperate and panicked. you shake him as gently as you can, trying to wake him from this nightmare. 

kaeya had night terrors often enough, especially in the beginning of when the two of you had moved in together. however, over time their occurrences had dialed down; kaeya claimed it was the magic of your love, you claimed it was because he finally got a proper night’s rest. nonetheless, you were familiar enough with these attacks that you knew what to do. 

you leaned away from him, trying to get out of bed to attempt a better route to wake him up when a loud gasp escaped from kaeya. you turned to see him clutching your shirt in a tight grip. he looked around, eyes lost and desperately searching. “y/n? y/n. y/n, please.” 

incoherent babbles were tumbling out as he repeated your name over and over again, a prayer and a plea. you reached out to him, trying to maneuver your way closer to him through his iron grip on your shirt. your hands caressed his brown skin, his cheeks shining with tears. he looked at you with confusion and desperation in his eyes. “please. y/n, please. don’t go.” 

sobs racked through his chest, kaeya wailed as if his heart was cracking in two. his eyes were like constellations, narrating a story that only entailed agony. his head bowed down as he begged, tears dripping down into his lap. “please don’t go. please. i can’t be alone again, i can’t i can’t i can’t, please i’m-” 

he couldn’t finish his sentence as he heaved another sob. his breaths were frantic as he clutched onto you like you were his last lifeline. maybe you were. 

you held him. you held him so close and so tight to yourself, that you could count his every heartbeat that pulsed against his chest. you traced small formless shapes across his back, trying to soothe the shining star that cried into your arms. 

seconds passed, minutes, maybe an hour but he laid in your arms and you kept him there, soothing him with words of love. the clock rang once more through the halls of your home. you leaned back just the slightest, running a hand through his hair and fiddling with the ends, “i’m going to get you some water, okay? i’m not leaving, i’ll be right back-”

you felt his body tense even more if it was possible. his voice was hoarse when he rasped out, “please don’t leave me.” 

sensing his need, you nodded and pulled him closer to you letting his head fall onto your shoulder as you pulled his hair back from his face. “i’m not going anywhere. i’m not leaving you. not now, not ever.” 

time passed like that - with him laid on your shoulder,  his cries coming to a stop after much soothing. his body still shook lightly, and you kept him close to you until he calmed completely. you traced every part of him you could touch as if to remind him that you were there and you weren’t going to leave. fingers trailing into his hair, on the hard parts of his back, the rigid scars on his arms, the slope of his nose, every part of him. 

“i love you.” 

your words stood strongly in the now quiet room. you glanced down and saw kaeya had fallen asleep in your arms. the trails of dried tears could be seen on his cheeks, but his body had calmed at least. his breathing had returned to normal at last and the stress across his face was nearly diminished. 

light was creeping into the room from the bedroom window and birds chirped outside to signal the new day. your eyes burned from the lack of sleep, but looking down at your love sleeping soundly in your arms you couldn’t find it in yourself to particularly care about your tiredness. as long as he was okay, you thought. 

you kissed his tear-stained cheeks and then his forehead. maybe it was the exhaustion or maybe you just wanted to release the words into the world but you whispered them against his skin, “if i could take all your pain and make it mine, i would do it in a heartbeat. your pain is my pain, kaeya.” 

you kissed his closed eyelids now, “i’m never going to leave you, i swear it.” 

it was a promise, a vow even. a vow to him and to you, that your souls were always meant to be intertwined and were never to be separated. it was something written in the weird realms of fate and destiny and it was an oath you would keep for the rest of your life. 

[crowley-com]

Din Djarin: A Lucky Shot

Pairing: Din Djarin x female!reader (she/her)

Excerpt: “You felt your hands beginning to shake in unwanted frustration. His breaths continued to stay labored as he slouched over himself, pressing his palm against his bleeding side.

‘What happened?’ you spat.

He breathed deeply once. Twice. The strain in his lungs made your anger waver just so. ‘A lucky shot.’

‘“A lucky shot,”’ you mimicked, lowering your voice to mock him. “I never get tired of your understatements.’

Warnings: rusty Razor Crest and mando’a talk, bleeding, swearing, descriptive wound care (stitching) (probably incorrect I am definitely not a nurse lol), heavy needle talk, Din fainting, reader panicking and screaming and crying, major panic attack, she kind of accepts his death for a second, softness, comfort, allusions to kissing and sex.

A/N: I am sorry for not sticking to my username for the past few months. My mind has been a bit elsewhere, but the weather is getting colder, and that means that Din is getting closer. This was also in my drafts as “Din wound cleaning sobbing” so hopefully this is coherent. I love you all dearly. Thank you for allowing me to do what I love :)

A/N 2: Mando season three trailer…Din girlies are you okay because I’m not.

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, reblog, or any other form of support, it would be much appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

(gif not mine credit to owner!!)

You felt his blood before you smelt it—the heat of it, not the stickiness. It pressed against your palm and sunk your stomach down to the floor.

“Din?” you whispered.

“Just—” he started, pushing past you. “I just need to sit.

You would have slapped him—should have slapped him—but his beskar would have hurt you more than him.

“Need to sit?” you questioned, anger underlining your tone.

“Yes,” he shot back, and you huffed in annoyance, closing the Crest’s hanger-doors with a press of a button.

You knew something was off the second his speeder-bike came into view. His normally straight-shot driving began to serpentine ever-so-slightly on the Tatooine sand before he shook his head and straightened himself out. You’d never seen him do that before.

He then parked the rust-covered speeder, and winced as he dismounted. You could hear his grunts of pain in your mind, only hearing them faintly and rarely in your time on the Razor Crest.

You never expected to stay as long as you had, and you never expected to grow nauseous at the thought of leaving.

He began his walk over to you, holding his left hand gently over his stomach. You noticed a slight limp as well, but not the worst you had seen from him. Not by a long shot.

You watched and waited for him as he returned, just as you always did, but you could not help your eyebrows creasing in concern. The sand blew, blowing him off his course, and he stumbled over his feet, visibly wincing once again. You squeezed the sides of the doorframe and leaned forward, as if you could catch him from this distance, but he carried on. With every step he took, your anger rose higher and higher, based purely on your fears of him never returning, or only returning long enough for you to watch him fade away into the afterlife.

You just wished he wasn’t so kriffing good at faking being okay. He was like that from the moment you met him.

“A partner?” you questioned. “You’re kidding me, Karga.”

The leader of the Bounty Hunters' Guild rolled his eyes and chuckled in response, leaning further back in his Cantina chair. “I am not having my best profit killed off by mercenaries. You know their violence better than anyone. You need someone on your six.”

He wasn’t wrong. You had dealt with this group before, and the fob he had given you was no easy shot. But you had handled it before.

“So you just don’t want your cut of my profits disappearing, huh? No concern for me?”

“None at all,” he said with a glint in his eye and a tone slicked with sarcasm. That was the closest to an “I care about you” you’d ever get from him.

“Besides, it’ll make this job a much lighter load,” he said, and you took a sip of your drink as you analyzed the situation.

You were a flexible woman, if you did say so yourself, and Greef was making somewhat of an arguable point. Besides, it was only one job.

And you’d rather be caught dead than showing a weakness in a Cantina of all places.

“Alright,” you responded, setting the wooden mug back on the sticky table. “So where are they then? Where is my ‘partner?’”

And that’s when the Cantina went silent, because none other than the fucking Mandalorian walked in, wearing armor worth more than you’d ever see in your life.

You couldn’t help your mouth dropping. Just a little.

You had heard of him—it was impossible to not, especially as an acclaimed member of the Guild—but you didn’t know he would look like…that. Broad shoulders, sinched waist, strong walk, large guns. Fuck.

The look of him only partially excused the fact that he had been taking his pick of the best pucks in Karga’s lot, therefore stealing the opportunity from you. Only partially.

But damn did he look good doing it.

He continued his walk forward, keeping his gaze locked on the general area you were sitting. Eyes bore into him as he walked, causing your heart to race for him.

You wondered if he enjoyed it—the stares, the looks. You wouldn’t find out until much later that he did not, and if you would have looked only a few inches down from his sculpted chest, you would have seen his hands squeezed so tightly it was stretching their leather coating. The tell-tale sign of his discomfort.

He made it to your booth—not bothering to hide his gaze burning a hole through your body—before turning towards Greef and saying, “I want my next job.” His deep voice sent a tingle down your spinal chord.

Greef proceeded to bounce his eyes between you and the Mandalorian’s tall frame, taking his sweet old time. You saw the flicker in his eyes the second the idea came to him, and he opened his arms towards you.

“Right on time,” he said to you, and nodded his head towards the Mandalorian. “Your partner.”

Your eyes widened, your body froze, and you have never left his side since.

Even as you watched his stubborn ass limp through the Tattooine sands, you would never go back on taking that job. Not for a million credits.

Well, maybe two million. And a guarantee he would always come home safe.

He made it to the end of the Crest’s entrance ramp, and you straightened up ever-so-slightly, eyebrows still creased together.

He began walking up the ramp, the old metal squeaking with every step, and you took the opportunity to search each and every visible inch of him for injuries. His armor was in tact, his weapons were unchanged, and the sides of his undershirt looked unstained. He kept his hand floating above his side though, and his breaths became more and more labored as he came closer and closer to you.

He was inches from you when you said his name delicately, trying not to let your anger show through in your tone. “Din? You okay?”

You’d never get over the taste of his name.

He sighed loudly, and you brought your hands to his solid chest when he finally reached you. His familiar scent of sweat and metal hit you instantly, and you felt the one spot your eyes couldn’t see from far away, a space of revealed undershirt just underneath chest piece. His weak spot.

That’s when you felt it—the heat of blood against the pads of your fingers, and he proceeded to storm past you. He stumbled over to and sat on a random storage container to steady himself as you closed the doors to the Crest, and you turned back around with your arms folded. You felt your hands beginning to shake in unwanted frustration. His breaths continued to stay labored as he slouched over himself, pressing his palm against his bleeding side.

“What happened?” you spat.

He breathed deeply once. Twice. The strain in his lungs made your anger waver just so. “A lucky shot.”

“‘A lucky shot,’” you mimicked, lowering your voice to mock him. “I never get tired of your understatements.”

He groaned in response. “I’m fine. Just need some—” he winced as he spoke. “Just need some help.”

You nodded and walked over to your First Aid drawers, grinding your teeth, and crouched down in front of them, muscle memory carrying you through where each piece of equipment was whilst your mind traveled elsewhere.

“You said this would be a quick one,” you spat.

“It should have been,” he replied.

“Yeah, you should have been back two days ago.”

“Says you, of all people,” he countered. “Last time you were gone an extra week.”

You exhaled through your nose. “I told you it would take longer. That’s the difference between us Din, I communicate. I actually use our kriffing comm links.”

You grabbed one last roll of gauze and shut the drawer forcefully, more forcefully than you initially intended, and stood up to turn to him.

“I couldn’t risk them tracing our location,” Din said in reply. His counters to your comments were knocking the wind out of him. “You know that.”

“Yeah,” you began, walking to the fresher to fill a bucket of water. “I do know that. But I also know that I’d rather be put at risk by knowing you’re alive than thinking you’re dead for two days straight.”

He went silent at this, and you ran the faucet over the bucket, filling it up to the brim. This awkward silence was what the air in the Crest was always filled with for the first month or two you had taken him up on his offer to join him. Before the two of you had become…whatever the hell you were.

Despite your tone, you valued bickering and arguing like this more than you could even describe. It meant the two of you had progressed past the stage he was in with everyone else in the galaxy—cold, calculating, silent. With you, he could show his underbelly, he could call you out on your shit, he could show you his weak spot, and he could let enough of his personality show to match your wit with his own.

And, most importantly, it meant that he was alive.

Your Mandalorian was still alive.

You closed your eyes and let this thought coat your insides, filling you with relief instead of anger. You exhaled and turned off the sink, lifting the bucket from the hollow metal. Your rage turned to elation at the fact that he was still breathing, and your focus switched to making sure he stayed that way.

“I’m sorry Din,” you said, and held the bucket with one arm while turning off the fresher light with the other. “You just always manage to scare the shit out of—”

You were cut off by a thump. A loud thump, metal bouncing off metal, and your blood turned to ice.

“Din?” you questioned, pupils dilating as you felt the first drops of panic begin to drip into your stomach. You turned out of the fresher, only to find his body splayed on the Crest floor. Chest unmoving.

The bucket and First Aid dropped from your hands, coating the entirety of your pants and the floor in water, and you ran to him, falling to your knees at his side.

“Din!” you yelled, feeling where his undershirt was now soaked with blood. Its normally dark brown was now crimson red across the entirety of his stomach, and he was out cold.

“No no no Din,” you said, shaking his body with as much strength as you could. “Din!”

Your voice cracked with desperation, more than you had let out in years, but he remained limp as you rocked his body back and forth. You brought your hands to your head, as if that would keep you from crumbling.

“No, no,” you whispered, throat catching on a sob. “What do I—what do I do?”

You were no medic. The only training you had was from experience—stitching your own cuts, cauterizing your own wounds, and doing the same to him—but nothing to this degree. This much blood.

“What do I do!” you whispered firmly, defeatedly. You began shaking him again. “You’re supposed to tell me what to do!”

Tears dripped into your mouth as you stared at his frame. You felt blind without his help—trapped. How did you function before him? Before that deep voice coached you through life in such a way that made you feel seen, not lectured. You wanted nothing more than to just hear his voice through his modulator, maybe a chuckle if you were lucky.

Get up, he would say to you. Get up cyar’ika, you can do this.

Bits of your nerve began to return to you and you forced yourself to breathe. You swallowed grimly, licked your lips, and took a deep breath.

You couldn’t afford to panic. You were a kriffing bounty hunter, and a good one at that. You could do this.

Get up.

And you did. On shaking legs you stood, feeling the blood drop from your head, filling it with lightness.

Hurry mesh’la. Hurry, he would say, and you did.

You gathered the materials as quickly as you could, salvaging the small amount of water left in the bucket, and you returned to him. Tears continued to fall and your throat continued to close, but you were doing it. You were moving.

Good. Just keep breathing.

You took a breath as you kneeled beside him, still moving swiftly.

Now take the armor off, you imagined him saying, but you hesitated. You’ve seen more than enough of me.

This was true. You had cauterized wounds on his shoulders and lower back before, but never on his front. Your heart picked up at the thought of his potentially muscled body, but you stayed focused.

With another deep breath you reached forward and popped his chest piece off, setting it delicately to the side of him. You did the same with his arm pieces, moving quicker and quicker as you went, before finally sliding off his cape and removing his belt. While you remained rushed, you set the beskar down gently, knowing their meaning to him.

You had him down to his undershirt, and the mix of sweat and blood hit you. The crimson had stretched from his lower stomach up to his middle. You threatened to break again, but with the armor removed, a delicate rise and fall of his chest was visible. You let out a cry of relief.

Unzip me now. We don’t have all day.

You brought your trembling hands to the zipper of his undershirt and slowly pulled it down. Once it reached the end you pulled the material down to lay on his waist. You were forced to peel the soaked material off of his stomach and arms, and the vibrant red began staining your hands.

His normally bronzed and scarred skin was coated with red…so much red. You couldn’t lose your nerve. Not now.

The cut in his stomach was deep, deep enough that stitching was a definite. His lungs continuing to fill with air kept you focus, as well as his ever-present voice in your head.

You won’t hurt me cyar’ika, you could never.

Picking the needle and thread from the First Aid, you threaded the eye as quick as you could with your trembling fingers, and leaned over his hot body to begin stitching. Despite the wound, the blood, and the smell, it was still Din you were seeing bare. You didn’t know how he still managed to make it all beautiful.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, lining up the needle. Tears spilled into your mouth. “I’m sorry.” And you began to stitch.

It was not for the faint of heart—watching the thin point work itself in and out and in and out of his skin, pulling the pieces together tightly to ensure they stayed. The cut was clean, yes, but its depth caused for lots of tugging. A part of you was thankful he had fallen under, while the rest of you begged for his return.

You checked his pulse and his breathing routinely as you worked, stitching faster than you had ever done in your life.

I’m still here. I’m not leaving.

“Please,” you whispered. “Please Din.”

With one final loop through, the stitching was complete. You snipped the thread away from his skin and removed your hands from his body. His blood stained your skin all the way to your wrists, but you didn’t care. He wasn’t bleeding anymore. It was done.

You began to get feeling back in your body. You felt the stain of sweat on your back, the cramping in your knees from leaning over him, and a mix of sweat, tears, and snot covering your face. Your panic was starting to bridge its way into exhaustion.

You did it cyar. The hard part’s over. Just need cleaned.

You exhaled and placed your hands on your knees before getting up to quickly rinse off your hands. You then rushed back to him and dunked an extra rag into the bucket of water. You dragged it around his wound carefully, and watched his freckles and scars begin to appear on his skin.

It wasn’t perfect, but he was cleaned, dried, and stitched as best as you could have possibly done. All he needed to do was wake up.

You bit your lip and checked his pulse again, and the pillar of hope that had been unconsciously built inside you crumbled.

It was barely there. His pulse was barely there.

You were too late. Too slow. Too weak.

“No.” You began shaking your head, pressing down firmly onto his smooth neck, as if that would fix it.

“You can’t…not now,” you whined. “Not now. Please not now Din please.”

You would die with him. He would take every part of you when he left, and not leave anything behind.

“Din!” you screamed, shaking him again. “Come on please! Please Din—”

You were cut off by your own sobs.

“You’re—you’re my partner Din I need you,” you cried. “You’re my partner please don’t go. Please don’t leave Din please I tried.”

You rested your head above his wound, practically throwing yourself across him. “I tried.”

The damn had broken. You sobbed endlessly, imagining the life that could have been if you had just moved a little bit fucking faster. His skin was warm against you, but you knew it would eventually run cold, signifying that Din had truly left this life and moved onto the next.

You regretted the last words he heard from you. You wished they were the three words that had been stuck on the tip of your tongue for weeks, but they weren’t.

You were a coward, and now he’d never hear them.

“Please Din.” You could barely whisper. Your body was racked with only agony, and you kept your face embedded into his skin. Your tears slid off his soft skin, and your aching heart pounded relentlessly in your temples. “Please come back to me. I’m so sorry.”

Cyar, I’m right here.

“No,” you whispered, knowing that voice was only in your head. You never wanted to hear it again. You didn’t deserve to. “I’m so sorry. I failed. I failed—”

Cyar, hey—

“—you, I failed you.”

Hey.

A leathered hand cupped your cheek, and you realized that it wasn’t your heart pounding in your head—it was his.

Your neck snapped up, tears continuing to drip down your neck, but his neck was propped up, looking at you.

Looking at you.

“Din!” you yelled, and wrapped your arms around him.

He chuckled and held you close, letting you tuck your chin into his bristly neck. His arms—bare arms—wrapped around you was something you never thought you would ever feel. You only cried harder.

“I’m alright,” he whispered. “It’s okay.” That familiar tingle stretched up your back.

You couldn’t help the tears. Shock and panic were still hitting you, but waves of relief crashed overtop of them, bringing you back down. To this moment. To Din holding you close.

You breathed in his scent as your cries slowed to a stop, and you laid with him. Listening to his heartbeat sink up with yours.

“Didn’t mean to scare you mesh’la,” he whispered with a chuckle, and you laughed almost manically.

“You nearly killed me Din Djarin,” you replied, still laughing.

“Y/N,” he said, and moved your face away from his neck. He framed it with his hands and brushed your tears away from your cheeks. “You’re my partner too, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He took a breath, as if his words were getting caught in his throat. “I—I need you too.”

Your lip quivered and you nodded to him. You knew what he meant.

“You did not fail me,” he said. “You saved me. Thank you.”

You exhaled. “You’re welcome.”

He then brought your forehead to his own, and the stream of tears in your eyes opened up again.

This time, however, it was from happiness. Pure elation. Because you knew what he was doing.

Chills erupted along your back at the feeling of the cold metal against your burning forehead, and you rubbed your nose back and forth against it, invoking another chuckle from him.

He kissed you. Din Djarin had just kissed you, and one day, you hoped to return the favor.

“You need ice,” you whispered against him. “And bacta. And sleep.”

He nodded against you, and you pecked the crown of his forehead. You then brought your mouth down to his neck and kissed his pulse, and the slight groan he let out was anything but pain. It was muffled enough to show that he attempted to hide it, but was unsuccessful. His large hands squeezed your hips, and you smiled against his skin, smelling purely Din. No blood.

“I’ll be right back,” you whispered, and kissed him again before standing and walking to the basement of the Crest. You rubbed your nose and sniffled, still tasting his sweat and skin on your mouth.

Those three words would come. Until then, this was enough.

Translations:

Mesh’la— beautiful

Cyar’ika— beloved

Cyar— beloved

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[crowley-com]

hi babes im literally so anxious that school is starting and i need some kind of comfort

can you do eddie helping r out of a panic attack or just helping them with their anxiety <33

i'm sorry you're anxious about school, honey! i wish you the best of luck, i'm always here if you need to talk, and i hope this helps!

--

The stance that Eddie finds you in already has his heart picking up speed, your hands bunched in your blankets as your knees draw to your chest like magnets. Your breathing is staccato, rapidfire puffs of not-enough air entering and escaping your lungs all too fast.

He doesn't know which is worse, the hand clawing at your calf, or the one that's itching at your neck. Both are leaving marks, and he rushes for the closest first, the one on your leg.

"Hey!" He's sure that doesn't help, but he can't figure out a better way to announce his presence. He grips your hand as you jolt tugging it hurriedly away from your leg and wincing when it draws blood as your nails rip off of your skin.

"Fuck," He dabs away the surface level scrape, his white shirt now dotted with crimson, "Babe, babe, let go."

He reaches for your other hand, trying a calmer approach this time. He's upset that panic is now infesting him, he berates himself for not being the strong one, but you're hurting and he doesn't know how to help you, and he's panicking.

He lays his hand out over yours, feeling a tremble wrack through your frame, "Let go, sweetheart, hold my hand instead."

You do, and Eddie takes it as a sign that you're still somewhat coherent. That maybe you're not gone, maybe you just need help finding your way back. He feels your fingers tighten around his and nods encouragingly even though you can't see him, "Yeah, there 'ya go. Squeeze, baby, get it all out."

He's absolutely certain his fingers will ache tomorrow, but he doesn't care. He lets you mutilate his hand, because it's better than mutilating your neck. Sobs pour out of you like rainfall, quiet one second and striking the next, and he sees your teeth dig unforgivingly into your plush bottom lip.

"No more," He urges, guiding your first hand to the one that's clasped in his own and using his now-free hand to tug your lip out from under your teeth, "C'mon baby, you're gonna cut it open."

You're no longer able to muffle your sobs by biting your lips and Eddie finds them even more heart-wrenching at full-volume. He tugs you sideways into his chest, you're bent at an awkward angle, but you can hear his heartbeat, and that's all that matters.

Maybe it's your newfound stress toy in Eddie's fingers, or maybe it's the soft thumping of his heart in his chest, or maybe it's his voice humming you familiar tunes that vibrate through his chest and send ripples of calm through your own, but you're coming back. Your breathing is clearer, your sobs aren't as frequent, and your fingers are starting to loosen up on his hands.

Finally your cries turn to sniffles, your shaking to an occasional quiver, and you let your hands go limp in Eddie's grasp.

"Hey there," He breathes shakily, his voice thick with emotion, "You okay, baby?"

"I'm sorry," Are the first words out of your mouth, and they only twist the knife in Eddie's heart, "I didn't mean for you to see that. And- and I probably hurt your hand, I'm really sorry, Eddie."

"Don't apologize." He insists, his brown eyes glistening with unshed tears, "That's- that's not something to apologize for. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." You offer lamely, wiping at your tears, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He parrots, "You're not."

"You're not either." You frown at his mangled fingers, "Do you want ice?"

"No," He shakes his head, lacing his with yours, "No, just talk to me. I wanna- I wanna know what happened."

"Nothing happened." You mumble, "Not yet."

Eddie cocks his head to the side, waiting for an explanation.

"I just- I'm really anxious." You admit, the word coming out chewy and strained, "I.. sometimes I don't know how to shut my brain off."

"Drugs." He grumbles, and it gets a laugh out of you. He relaxes an inch.

"It's hard." You continue, face dropping from the chuckle, "Sometimes it's a little too hard."

"Yeah." He nods, blinking his tears away when you squeeze his hand, lighter this time, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"I.. I really am sorry, Eddie." You repeat, and his eyes snap to yours, ready to fight, "Just-! Just listen," You beg, and he nods once.

"I don't.. I try not to do that in front of people. It's- well, I know it's not a comforting sight. I'm sorry for scaring you, but thank you for.. for staying. And helping."

"I'm glad you scared me," He admits, a glossy sheen over his pretty doe eyes as his nose burns red, "Ignoring scary things doesn't make them go away. I wanna face the scary things, I- I wanna fight 'em. With you."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He smiles weakly at you, leaning forwards to nuzzle his nose with yours. It's intimate, sweet and tender, and it nearly resurfaces your tears.

"'Gonna beat its ass." He adds, after a moment of too-good-to-be-true silence from him, "Stupid fuckin' anxiety."

"It's in my head," You laugh, "You're gonna hit me in the head?"

He reconsiders, brows furrowed. Then he grabs your face, tilting it so that he's speaking directly into your ear, definitely a bit too loud.

"Hey, you in there! He-lloooo," He taps a fingertip on your temple, "Anxiety? Get the fuck outta my baby!"

You giggle at his antics, "Eddie-"

"'Can't see anything in there," He cuts you off, turning from your ear to your face, peering into your eyes, but past them somehow, "No, not there, maybe-?" He lifts your chin, peers intently up your nose, "Shit, not there either. How about-?" Then he's popping your mouth open, peering around while you giggle lamely under his touch.

"Fuck." He concludes, "Can't find it. Wherever it is, though, I'm ready." He holds up a threatening fist, "Not gonna let that little shit hurt you anymore, sweetheart."

[crowley-com]

Stranger Things

In a busy, fantastical year of sci-fi television, one show rose above the rest, and we’re betting you know exactly the one we’re talking about. Stranger Things has always been super popular on Tumblr, so it’s no surprise this season wasn’t any different. After waiting an entire three years, we were treated to not one but two volumes of horrific, heartbreaking goodness. 

From the moment we heard the opening notes of Journey’s “Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)” in the first official trailer in mid-April, we knew this season would be on a bigger scale than we’ve ever seen for the series. That same week, Stranger Things made its first Fandometrics appearance of 2022. But the real excitement set in when Netflix released the first volume, a set of seven episodes, on May 27, 2022. The show has appeared on our weekly TV Shows list and remained in the top 20 ever since. Skeptical? Well, stranger things have happened!

The wild mid-season cliffhanger was enough to keep fans going through the month-long break between volumes. You used the interim to discuss theories and fears, share GIFs and edits, and post myriad fan works. Returning to Hawkins in July for the second volume, some of those theories and worries were confirmed. After the two final episodes, you came together once again to mourn your losses and discuss the ramifications of major events for the next (and final) season.

We all know the lifeblood of Stranger Things has always been its characters: We’ve rooted for them, shared their wins and losses, and watched them grow. This is especially true for the show’s ragtag group of teens who frequently find themselves looking for trouble in all the right places. This season, the Stranger Things fandom collectively fell in love with newcomer Eddie Munson: the long-haired, guitar-wielding dungeon master of our dreams. Eddie was the clear favorite by a mile, followed by Steve Harrington and Will Byers (fun fact: they are actually the top three fictional TV characters on Tumblr for the entire year). We’d also like to give honorable mentions to Argyle, Chrissy Cunningham, and Vecna, all of whom have made for major topics of conversation.

And, with everything these characters have endured, season after season, their bonds have become stronger than ever. Steve Harrington is still everyone’s favorite dad (Hopper is a close second), and Tumblr has dubbed Robin and Steve platonic soulmates. This new chapter brought seasoned and budding friendships, romances, and of course, a whole lot of ships. You picked apart every interaction and every lingering gaze and came to the conclusion that Steve and Eddie totally should’ve been together. And then there are the ever-diligent Byler, Ronance, and Jopper shippers. We see you, too.

If all of this wasn’t enough to demonstrate the impact of Stranger Things 4 on Tumblr, then maybe this will: Stranger Things was the #1 thing on all of Tumblr this year. Yes, of all the tags used this year, the sci-fi hit reigned supreme. 

It basically turned Tumblr upside down.

[crowley-com]

Needy

SUMMARY: Eddie comforts you when you have a panic attack.

GENRE: fluff, light angst

A/n: this is a repost. I wrote this in reference to the way i get panic attacks so i hope you can relate! This may be my favorite piece of work~

You weren't sure why you started to feel this way, all you knew is you were scared.

You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest. Your blood almost felt thick as it tried to pump through your body. You were suddenly overcome with chills and sweat had started to form on the surface of your skin. It was extremely uncomfortable.

But that was the least of your problems. Eddie was already on his way to pick you up, and he's about to see you like this. You cursed yourself for feeling this way now of all times.

Were you having a panic attack? Oh shit. You were having a panic attack. You whimper and rub your head, almost trying to force sense into yourself.

You repeated to yourself,

"Please, please not now." You squeezed your eyes shut, fast breaths left our lungs without you realizing.

You were already asking so much of Eddie. Asking him on dates, calling him all the time. Finding you like this was just another reason to be annoyed with you.

You wanted to pretend you were fine and answer the door with your normal amount of excitement and liveliness, but once the first tear fell you couldn't muster it. The doorbell rang and you whimpered in frustration. You forced yourself up, even while tears were still falling from your face and you slowly walked yourself to the door, you legs shaking as if they could hardly bear your weight.

Eddie looked so cute, holding flowers in his hand with the brightest smile. You felt so bad when his expression fell at your appearance.

"Woah, what's the matter doll?" He immediately stepped inside, setting the flowers on the little table by the door. You frowned and the layer of tears covering your eyes was so thick you could hardly see his worried face.

"I don't know." You started feeling very lightheaded, as if all the blood was draining from your head and making your feet too heavy. You stumble and start to fall, but Eddie catches you and pulls you into his arms.

"I'm right here sweetheart. It's okay." His voice is so calming and low. He rocks you back and fourth, forcing you to focus your attention to shifting your weight from one foot to the other. It worked remarkably well at getting your mind distracted.

After a few minutes he gets you to sit on the floor with him. Eddie was panicking at the sight of your purple hands and your skin that was cold to the touch. But he kept his composure for you.

"In... and out." He guides you through taking deep breaths that you hated to admit helped a lot. His warm hands were rubbing yours, trying to warm them up.

He started to tell you about what he did on the way here. He told you about how he decided to wear the shirt he was wearing, how he almost sprayed cologne in his eyes and slipped while putting on his shoe. He told you about the weird kid that pointed at him while he was picking out the flowers he held to your nose, the smell had a sort of calming effect on you. He told you what song he was jamming to, singing it briefly for you, and told you which stop sign he ignored.

Who knew you'd be able to laugh so hard when having a panic attack?

After color returned to your face he kissed your forehead and brought you to the kitchen for a glass of water. He even offered to feed you.

"I'm sorry." You say with a sigh. His head cocks to the side.

"Why, baby?"

"I'm so needy." You try to laugh it off but he doesn't let that slide. He suddenly gets a serious look on his face. He reaches for your hands.

"You're not, I promise. You really aren't." His deep and dark eyes were pouring nothing but love into yours. He pulls you tightly into his arms. All you can do is nod and hug him back.

[crowley-com]

4 Papas and a Cardinal

[crowley-com]

Times You Fell Asleep in the Ministry 

pt 4 

Shameless self indulgence here akdnskjankjdn

I will probably only do one story per part from now on, due to story length. Anyways enjoy ❤

…

:readmore:

     7. In the middle of a ghoul cuddle pile

     It was late at night when Terzo was wandering the halls of the ministry. At this hour, everyone else must have been asleep, and Sister Imperator would have given him quite the scolding if she discovered him. Unfortunately for him, another bought of insomnia plagued him, and he decided it would be better if he walked around instead of sulking in his quarters. Maybe he could visit the ghouls? They always seemed to know when he found himself unable to sleep. They often would force him into the middle of a ghoul-pile, surrounded by blankets, warm bodies and comfort. In the morning, Sister often found them; thankful to find Terzo amongst the sleepy bodies. She knew how rare a good night’s sleep was for him, and was accepting towards a few late mornings if it meant he would be well-rested. 

     Terzo had his mind made up. He began walking towards the ghouls’ wing. 

     As he walked, he raised his candle to shine light at the decor on the walls, admiring it. He had seen the same paintings a million times, sure, but they were still just as beautiful as the first time he had seen them. 

     There were several paintings, some of which depicted him, and the other former Papas; many were of Papa Nihil, and a few of Sister. Each painting was brilliantly detailed, and he wondered how long it had taken the artists to paint them. 

     When he turned the corner, the paintings no longer depicted the Papas, replaced with paintings of the ghouls. Each ghoul had at least two portraits, though it was difficult to tell them apart. Terzo wondered if they artist had simply made copies of some of the portraits. This thought was interrupted, however, when he passed the entrance to one of the ghoul common areas. He could hear lots of whispers and mumbling, as well as the occasional chuckle. He entered the room. 

     In the middle of the room on the floor were the ghouls, all of whom were snuggled up in a nest of blankets. Much like the paintings, it was difficult to tell the ghouls apart amongst the tangle of limbs and tails. He timidly approached, setting the candle on a nearby table and blowing it out.

     “Hello, my ghouls. I am surprised to see you all so cozy like this already. May I join?” 

     Aether sleepily rose his head, looking at Terzo. “I am sorry, Papa. We are full.”

     “How can you be full? There are many of you, but there is plenty of space.”

     “Of course you can join, Papa.” Cumulus responded this time, smacking Aether with her tail. “But please be quiet, y/n is in here.” 

     “Y/n? But where?” 

     Swiss carefully raised the blanket he was draped in, revealing your sleeping form. You were curled up beside him, your face buried in his chest, and let out a quiet whine at the sudden lack of warmth. Terzo felt his heart ping at the sight. “Ah, but of course.” Carefully, he climbed into the middle of the pile beside you, now cozily trapped between you, swiss, and Cumulus. He drew in a deep breath, beginning to relax. Swiss threw the blanket over the three of you without a word. 

     You let out a quiet mumble, having been disturbed by the commotion. It hadn’t been enough to fully awaken you, but you were now alert enough to respond. “Terzo?”

     He hummed. “I am sorry to awaken you, Tesoro.” 

     You turned over sleepily, now with your back facing Swiss. He responded by snaking his arms around your waist, and you wrapped one arm around his as you curled closer to Terzo. Clumsily, you moved your free hand towards him, placing it in his own with the little energy you could muster. “’s fine,” you mumbled. You didn’t say anything else as you drifted off once more. 

     Terzo lay there, warm and content as he watched your sleeping face. He wasn’t sure why you were asleep with the ghouls in the first place; he supposed you may have had sleeping issues as well, though it didn’t really matter anyway. He was glad he wasn’t the only one in the ministry who found it difficult to sleep without someone close by. 

     Several minutes passed, and Terzo found himself still awake. He wasn’t sure why, and he was growing more frustrated. Even within the warmth of the ghouls, he still couldn’t fall asleep. Why? 

     The surrounding ghouls took notice of this. 

     Cumulus turned so that now she was facing Terzo’s back. She curled up close to him and tossed her own blanket over the two of them, sharing her warmth as well. She wrapped her arms around him and began to hum quietly in his ear. He flinched at the sudden contact, but she did not pull back.

     Slowly, he began to drift off. 

     It shocked him, how soft he would become in these moments, wrapped up tightly within the confines of the ghouls. As ghouls, they thrived off of contact from the others, but Terzo felt that humans, especially not him, neither needed nor deserved such comforting touch. Still, he laid there, losing his grip on consciousness, not in the arms of a lover but one who certainly loved him. Oh, what did he do to deserve his ghouls? 

     He tightened his grip on your hand before falling asleep completely, feeling safe and warm. 

…

     In the morning, you awoke first. You tried to bring a hand up to rub the sleepiness from your eyes, only to realize that both were occupied. You were still wrapped up in Swiss’ arms, and your head was in Terzo’s chest, holding his hand in-between you two. You noticed that Cumulus was still behind him, her arms wrapped around him. Though you certainly didn’t remember him crawling in next to you, it was nice to lay and enjoy the moment. You pulled your head away from his chest and looked up to admire his sleeping face. He looked relaxed and content, and while the fine lines on his face didn’t disappear, he still looked younger than he was. His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath he took, soft snores escaping his partially open mouth. 

     You could stay here forever. You were safe, content, warm; but most of all, you were loved. 

[crowley-com]

Terzo x GN Reader

Lost and Found

. . .

A lil drabble before bed!

. . .

TW: Mentions of a panic attack. (💥)

It's late.

And you're lost.

Inside the endless ministry halls.

Alone. Great.

It was well past midnight, and the halls of the Abbey were freezing. It was the middle of winter after all, what did you expect? The candle in your hand was dangerously close to burning out, threatening you with darkness. You cursed underneath your breath, why did you have to be out so late at night? Why couldn't you have just stayed in your room?

You had come to the ministry only a few days prior, looking for shelter and work. To your surprise, the Clergy took you in with welcoming arms. You'd been hired as a janitor, a jack-of-all-trades kind of position. The position paid well, and you were given food, shelter, and insurance. What more could you ask for?

It would have been nice, however, if you could make some friends. The sisters wouldn't give you the time of day, the Papas were constantly busy, and the ghouls were, well... ghouls. The only one who talked to you in this damn place was Sister Imperitor, and even then it was only to give you an assignment. So needless to say you were lonely.

If you had some friends, maybe you could have asked one to walk you to the bathroom at 2 A.M. and avoided getting as hopelessly lost as you are now.

💥 The halls were closing in on you as you crept down the hallway. You struggled to breathe, and it was getting more difficult to focus. Was your bedroom this way? Or that way? Damn. You could feel your heartbeat getting more rapid now, and hear the blood gushing in your ears. "Shit," you thought, "I don't belong here." 💥

You stopped for a moment, too overwhelmed to continue. What were you going to do? You couldn't possibly navigate these halls on your own; there were so many! You supposed you could wait until someone happened to be this way, but that wouldn't happen for hours. You would just have to keep going.

Finally, you came across a hallway that looked similar to yours. However, this one was different, more official looking. "This must be the Papas' bedrooms." You thought.

It was even colder now, and you shivered. Your heart was still racing as you crept down the hallway. Tears came to the corners of your eyes as you tried to keep them at bay, with little success. This hallway scared you.

Finally, your candle died its pathetic little death, much to your disappointment. "Shit, no!" You cried, louder than you intended to. How would you find your way back now?

You heard a cough come from behind you. This startled you, and you dropped the candle- or what was left of it- on the floor. Wax spilled from the small saucer onto the floor.

"Oh dear- did I scare you?"

You turned around and nearly jumped out of your skin- it was Terzo, dressed in his nightly wear and holding a candle.

"I- I'm sorry, Papa, I didn't meant to, truly-" the tears started to pool in your eyes now, but you couldn't wipe them away while your hands were occupied trying to clean up the mess you had made.

"Shh, it's okay, we'll deal with it in the morning. Now tell me child, why are you awake at this hour?"

"I'm sorry," you tried to catch your breath, "I'm new here and I really had to pee and now I'm lost and the candle- oh, I'm so sorry. I just, I'm trying to find my bedroom."

"Ah." He stepped closer to you, bending down to your level on the floor. "I can guide you back, if you'd have me."

"Please."

"Gladly." He offered his hand and helped you stand up, then linked elbows with you. "I'm assuming you are staying in the Sister wing, si? Not with the ghouls?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then let us go." He began to lead you through the halls. "So. Why did you come out here all alone if you did not know where to go?"

"I didn't want to bother the Sisters. They have so much on their plate already."

"Truly? Because it seems as though you don't talk to them much anyway."

Shit. "I'm not a very talkative person."

"Is that it?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Terzo."

"Hmm?"

"Call me Terzo. I am 'off the clock,' as Copia says."

"Of course, Terzo."

You continued walking in silence for a moment. You were beginning to feel sleepy again, now that the panic had worn off. You knew that you were safe now.

You took your free hand and rubbed your palm into your eye, trying to wipe away some of the drowsiness. This action was interrupted by a yawn, to which Terzo seemed to take notice.

"Eh, it sure is late, no?"

You giggled. "It is."

You bumped into his side by mistake. It didn't help that you were very uncoordinated, which was only worsened by the sleepy feeling that overtook you.

"It seems as though this current arrangement is not working."

"Sorry?"

He stopped at a small table in the hallway and set down his candle before blowing it out.

"Don't we need that to see?" You asked.

"You need that to see. I do not."

"But papa- er, Terzo- I am confused."

"Shh." He released his arm from yours, and spun around you, knocking you off balance. He took this opportunity to catch you, now holding you in a bridal carry. "There we go."

You were lucky it was dark in the hallway, or else Terzo would have seen the blush on your face. Accepting your fate, you let out another yawn and wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder.

He murmured into your ear, "now, off to bed with you, child."

[crowley-com]

Stress Relief 

Copia x Anxious/Traumatized Reader (Gender Neutral) 

…

Copia being a worried lil dad. 

Trigger Warning! Mentions of anxiety, past abuse, and trauma. 

…

I will be using some prompts in this fic! (2,3, 17, 22, 23) Of course, feel free to drop some prompts in my askbox! 

…

     Augh, seriously? 

     You were standing on your tip toes, trying to reach a glass on the top shelf. You never understood how everyone in the Ministry could be so tall; well, taller than you, at least. After a few more seconds of reaching to no avail, you gave up and looked around the kitchen for a step stool. There must be one somewhere, right? Sister Imperator wasn’t much taller than you, after all. You knew that Terzo struggled to reach things sometimes as well; f course there would be a step stool somewhere.

     After spending about ten minutes searching for a step stool that obviously did not exist, you gave up and walked back over to the cabinet. You stood on your tip toes again, stretching your arms as far as they could possibly go. You leaned some of your weight on the counter, and finally managed to grab a glass cup on the edge of the cabinet shelf. 

     Victorious, you placed the cup on the counter and grabbed the pitcher of iced tea you had pulled from the fridge earlier. Unfortunately, you overshot with the pitcher in your hand and knocked the glass cup off of the counter and onto the floor, where it shattered into a million pieces.

     You froze in place, staring at the broken glass. You were unable to move. You were eight years old again; standing in your mother’s kitchen while she screamed obscenities at you. You could hear your desperate sobs; “please, I’ll never do it again, I’m sorry-” your pleas fell on deaf ears. There was more screaming, some of it from you, much of it from her. You could hear the sounds of kitchen utensils being thrown throughout the room in her fit of rage. Finally, she turned back to you, raising her hand threateningly. Just before she made contact, you heard footsteps enter the room behind you, pulling you out of your memories.

     “Shit. Are you okay?” You jumped as Copia walked in behind you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, looking concerned when you flinched away. “Tesoro, what happened?” 

     You stumbled over your words, offering panicked apologies. “I- I’m so sorry, Papa. I don’t- I’m sorry, it was an accident, it won’t happen again, I promise. I’m so- I’m sorry.” 

      “Woah, woah, hey, slow down. Look at me.” He kept his voice low, and he stood in front of you now. “Look at me, cara mia. It’s okay. It’s just one glass, no? We have plenty others to replace it.” 

     Your breathing was still quick, though you weren’t sure why. After all, it was just one glass; all you needed to do was sweep up the shards. Why were you so upset? 

     Copia reached out and set his hand on your shoulder. “Take a deep breath. It’s okay, Tesoro, you’re okay.”

     You flinched at his touch, then relaxed. “I’m sorry, Copia, I don’t know why- know why I’m acting like this.” You cringed at the return of your stutter. 

     “It’s alright, mia dolce. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He turned to look at the mess. “Let’s clean this up.” 

…

     A few minutes later, you were seated on the couch in the living room; Copia had brought you another cup of tea, though this one was plastic; it sat on the table next to the couch. The glass in the kitchen had been swept clean, and the floor vacuumed for good measure. He could tell you were still worked up, however. He was worried for you; he had seen the fear in your eyes, though he wasn’t sure what had caused it. Maybe it was the sound of the glass shattering? 

     “Feel better now?” he asked, sitting next to you on the couch. He grabbed a blanket and draped it over the two of you, trapping his warmth inside. 

     “I- yes, yes. I do. Thank you, Papa.”

     “You didn’t do anything wrong, child.”

     His words caught you off guard. Of course you hadn’t done anything wrong; it was just a glass after all. You weren’t sure why, after all these years, your body still responded the way it did. It was like your body was stuck on auto-pilot, almost as a way of self-preservation; of course, nothing could have spared you from your mother’s wrath. 

     “Do you mind explaining what happened in there?” 

     “O-oh. I suppose I should.” You looked away from him, unable to look him in the eyes. “I’m really clumsy. When I was a kid, it made my mom upset. There were several times that she-” you paused, looking at the floor in shame. “It’s not like she was abusive, you know. She was a really good mom. Just angry sometimes, I guess. If that makes sense.” 

     “So she would hit you?”

     You flinched at the word. “Y-yeah. I guess. But she was really nice most of the time. She only did it if I was being stupid. Or if I deserved it.” Your voice shook now.

     Suddenly, Copia brought a gentle hand underneath your chin, moving your face to look at him. You noticed tears in his eyes, and his voice shook as well. “Amore… you never deserved any of that. It wasn’t your fault.” 

     Hot tears began to escape from your eyes now, dripping down your face. He wiped them away with a gloved hand. You broke eye contact, pulling your face away as you tried to muffle a sob. 

     “Hey, hey. It’s okay, cara mia. Come here.” He opened his arms and pulled you into his chest. “It’s going to be okay, tesoro. I promise. Shh.” He continued to hold you as the sobs came out more forcefully, shaking your entire body. You tried to stop them, but the sadness that now filled your entire being as well as the comfort he offered was too much for you. 

     He rubbed soft circles into your back with one hand, while petting your hair with the other. The blanket had fallen off of the two of you, but it didn’t matter; he was warm enough without it, and his heat spread onto you as well. “It’s okay, child, It’s alright. We can stay here until you’ve run those awful feelings out. It’s okay.” 

     “I’m…sorry…” You managed in between sobs; you kept repeating this phrase, using it as a grounding technique. Your head hurt terribly now, mostly from the forceful sobs that just kept coming. You also noticed the exhaustion setting in from crying so much. Why did you cry so much? It wasn’t that big of a deal, was it?

     After several moments, you pulled away. Copia allowed you to do so easily, but sat awaiting your return with his arms wide open. You rubbed the last few tears from your eyes, finally able to get a grip on yourself. You took a deep breath. “Thank you, Papa. Thank you.”

     “Any time, Tesoro. Now,” he laid down on the couch, stretching out and leaving almost no room for you to sit. He set the blanket off to the side, still within his reach. “why don’t you lay down with your Papa. Such big emotions also require naps, no?”

     Bleary eyed and now exhausted, you obliged without another word. You laid on top of him, resting your head against his chest. He pulled the blanket over you both, trapping his heat underneath once more. Then he wrapped his big, loving arms around you, providing a sense of safety and security. You brought a closed fist up to your face, rubbing your eyes. They burned from so many tears. You listened to his heartbeat; it was slow, calm. Hearing it made you feel sleepy. 

     “Ah, there we go. Nice and cozy. We are doing much better now, yes?”

     You hummed in response, lacking the energy to say anything else. He seemed to sense this, and chuckled. Hearing his voice echo through his chest was so comforting to you. He realized this and hummed in response, the vibrations traveling through his chest. It was a familiar tune; though you couldn’t quite tell what it was. 

     He ran his hand up and down your arm now. You were finding it difficult to keep your eyes open, with them fluttering open and closed. “Copia?” You mumbled. 

     “Yes, Tesoro?”

     “Love you.”

     He felt his heart melt. “Ti amo, amore. Now rest your eyes.” You quickly fell asleep, with him following not long after. 

…

     A few days later, Copia found two pictures left lying on his desk. One was a picture of you two, asleep and tangled within each other’s arms. The other had Aether and Swiss in the foreground, making kissy faces and peace signs with the two of you in the background, still asleep on the couch. 

     “Motherfuckers.” He framed the photos.

…

Prompts used: 

2. “Are you okay?”

3. “Take a deep breath.”

17. “Feel better now?”

22. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

23. “It wasn’t your fault.”

[crowley-com]

Minecraft Streamers

Tubbo, Quackity, and Crumb sound like the names of three raccoons playing poker behind a dumpster.

TommyInnit

Grian +14

Dreamwastaken +3

Technoblade -1

Wilbur Soot

Ranboo -4

GoodTimesWithScar +19

Tubbo -4

Quackity

Philza -3

Mumbo Jumbo +16

GeorgeNotFound -4

Crumb +5

PearlescentMoon +23

EthosLab +14

Sapnap -7

BdoubleO100 +15

Smajor1995 +10

impulsesV +15

SmallishBeans +22

TangoTek +20

ZombieCleo +13

Solidarity Gaming +13

Rendog +6

Slimecicle -4

Eret

Karl Jacobs -16

Awesamdude -16

GeminiTay +14

Docm77 +10

InTheLittleWood

LDShadowLady +12

BadBoyHalo -23

Jack Manifold -19

Foolish Gamers -15

Joe Hills

Niki Nihachu -24

Punz -15

jschlatt -25

Purpled -18

FalseSymmetry

ConnorEatsPants -11

Aimsey

Sneegsnag -6

Hannahxxrose -12

Shubble

Skizzleman

Boomerna

Eryn Cyberonix

Captain Puffy -33

The number in italics indicates how many spots a name moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded names weren’t on the list last year.

[crowley-com]

✨the Impera era ghouls✨

ps. some of you wanted stickers and prints, you can find those here 💖

[crowley-com]

Arcane reacts to you crying

Sfw, hurt + comfort with gn reader

Warnings: crying, comfort, angst, panic attacks implied

❀ —————————————— ❀

Jinx- She doesn't really know what to do, honestly. Jinx will try her absolute best to stay stable for you though; she gets your favorite drinks and wipes your tears with her sleeves. "Hey, don't cry now... You're supposed to be the stable one here" she jokes, trying to lighten the mood a bit. She'll hold you the entire time, rocking back n forth until you tell her you're okay

Vi- The absolute best with this situation. She quickly grabs as many blankets as she can, taking one of your hands and leading you to your shared bed. After pulling the sheets over you and getting comfortable, Vi combs her fingers through your hair and hums a song from her childhood. " 's alright y/n... you're gonna be just fine. Deep breaths for me, okay?". She let's you have as much time as you need; she's gonna be there no matter what

Viktor- He quickly hugs you to his chest and gets you somewhere more private. Viktor isn't the best with comfort, but he'll do anything you ask; you'll probably have to lead him through the process of calming you down. "Do you want some water darling? Breathe for me, okay? It'll be alright, I promise". Puts on calming songs and just quietly whispers affirmations to you while sitting you on his lap

Jayce- Holds your face him his hands and kisses all you all over. Jayce is the best at listening to what's on your mind, and he'll give comments about how beautiful/handsome you are while holding you. He takes you with him for a car ride to get take-out, and you end up spending the night driving around. Jayce will take you to his favorite overlook spot and remind you of all the things that are special about you, and why he fell in love with you. "I love you so much, never forget that. Not for a second"

Caitlyn- Brings you to the library in her house. It's a rainy and sounds great on the windows; she curls you both up on the window seat and let's you lay on her chest. "Shh my love, it's alright. Tell me what happened?". She might put on some music and dance you around with her, giggling as you try to keep up with her pace. Her main priority is getting your mind off of whatevers bothering you

Silco- Pats his lap for you to sit on and brushes your hair out of your face. "What's got you so upset, darling? You can always talk to me". If you talk to him about it, he'll make sure you know he's listening by giving little hums and head nods; occasionally adding his input and telling you how much he loves you. Silco will run you a bath and give you the most comfy clothes he owns; warming up blankets and hugging you closely

Sevika- Gives you space unless you don't want to be alone. It isn't that she doesn't care; she knows first-hand how confusing emotions can be, so she just tries to let you sort it out. If you want her to stay, she'll give you her full attention and holds your hand while you speak. "You're doing great, talking is a good step in the right direction. I'm here for you". Sevika holds you for the rest of the night and puts on your favorite show as a distraction

Vander- Bear hugs! He grounds you the best out of all the characters, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back. Vander will give you the best massage to calm you down and makes your favorite food to cheer you up. "I know things are hard, my love. I'm here for you whenever you need to talk, alright?". He will then let all the kids in so they can cuddle and play with you (he may or may not have made a deal with them- if they cheer you up, they get extra snacks)

Ekko- He embraces you tightly and asks what happened that made you upset. "You can always come to me. Let's go lay down, alright?". Ekko will put on your favorite TV show/movie; letting you calm down enough so that you can explain what happened. If you're comfortable with it, he'll take you on his hoverboard and ride around Zuan with you; showing you all of his favorite places and getting you gifts along the way