#Anxiety whump

[whump-or-whatever]

Non-verbal Anxiety/Stress Indicators

For all those whumpees who try to hide how they're feeling from others or might not even realize themselves what they're feeling.

Wringing hands

Tapping/shaking foot or leg

Rubbing hand along leg or arm

Fidgeting with sleeve/zipper/loose string/etc.

Body-focused repetitive behaviours (twirling hair, biting nails, picking at skin, etc.)

Pacing/rocking/inability to sit still

Tapping fingers

Touching/rubbing face

Holding on to a comforting item

Darting eyes

Positioning oneself with back to wall/facing door

Looking around for potential exists/sources of danger

Staring unseeingly into the distance

Trying to make oneself seem smaller (slouching, crossed arms, curling up, leaning on something, etc.)

Angling body away from others

Avoiding eye contact

Tense facial features (clenched jaw, furrowed brow, pursed lips etc.)

Stiff body and posture

Cold hands/chills

Clammy hands/sweating

Numbness in extremities/chest pain

Being unresponsive/unable to speak

Quick shallow breathing/difficulty getting a full breath

Paler than usual complexion

Feel free to add any others y'all can think of!

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumptober 2024 - Day 11

The overwhelm of reintegration is just too good to pass up :)

TWs: paranoia, intense anxiety

Seeing Double | Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don’t even exist.”

This was stupid. This was supremely stupid and Mariano knew it. He stood there in the convenience store, staring at the isle of chips in front of him.

Bastian had sent him down the road to get late night snacks. He wanted barbecue flavored chips. There were too many.

Which ones did Bastian usually get? Wavy? Original? Ridged? Pork rinds? Did those not count as chips? What sort of barbecue flavor? Sweet? Hickory? Spicy?

Why couldn't he breathe?

Checking the prices wouldn't help narrow it down, either. Bastian didn't even look at those in restaurants. He just got whatever he wanted, when he wanted it.

None of the bags looked familiar. Bastian usually got jalapeño chips, barbecue was a rare craving. They were all the store brand, too. How was this a hard task?

His phone vibrated and the screen lit up with a text.

you good?

Bastian's profile picture grinned up at him.

Of course. He could just ask him. Mariano felt his face burn with embarrassment and relief as he tapped into the chat to respond.

There are a lot of choices. Which barbecue chips do you like, specifically?

oh fuck haha sorry dont really care as long as theyre hickory

Bastian responded immediately. Thank god. Mariano realized he'd been paralyzed there for a good few minutes. The last thing he needed was for the cashier to think he was planning something and get scared.

Ridged hickory barbecue chips, then. Mariano grabbed two bags, along with an extra bottle of the pineapple soda that Bastian had also asked for. He'd just see what the fuss was about, since Bastian swore this combination was amazing.

If it saved him the extra few decisions, Mariano would be willing to eat just about anything.

@whump-captain @whumpr @whumperofworlds @lektricwhump @cyberwhumper

@bxtterflystxtches @inscrutable-shadow @whumpbees

[rosetyler42]

Some stressed Drericka comfort fluff. I love their Marlin and Dory dynamic where Drac's the neurotic one while Ericka can be the sunny chill pill who can get him to stop worrying and take a break.

@lovelylivelyv @black-ak9 @serial-serializednovelreader @hotelt-resurrection @deathfangirl9 @wingingfromthezing @heartsong1994 @ebevkisk @kittyball23

[rizzoto-whump]

Military whump, but the focus is on civilians:

Whumpee watches helplessly as their once-peaceful town is ripped apart by bombs and gunfire, struggling to accept that life will never be the same again.

As the war wages on, Whumpee feels an immense sense of helplessness as they are unable to do anything to protect their loved ones.

As supplies become scarce, Whumpee witnesses the slow deterioration of their once close-knit community as neighbors turn against each other in desperate attempts to survive.

As the death toll rises, Whumpee becomes numb to the constant tragedy, struggling to feel anything at all.

The constant barrage of explosions and gunfire invade Whumpee's dreams, blurring the line between the waking world and terrifying nightmares.

Envy and bitterness consume Whumpee as they gaze upon a photograph of their old classmates, untouched by the devastation of war, enjoying a simple day at the beach.

[castlehillwhump]

Anxiety Attack Whump/Comfort

I found this in one of my whump inspo docs and lowkey loved it. I added a bit and polished it, but wanted to share.

He’s wound so tight that she can feel the waves of anxiety radiating off him like a physical presence. He’s bent over in his chair, every wrinkle in his clothes exposed in the light from the fluorescent bulb that hangs over their kitchen table. He’s got his head in his hands, and she can hear his breathing from across the room. She makes her way over to him softly. When he’s like this, there isn’t much that will bring him comfort, but she’s dealt with him like this before, more times than she can count, and if anyone can offer him any sort of relief, it’s her.

As she gets closer, he looks up at her, eyes wide and red, breath coming in tiny pants. She reaches out a hand to run her fingers through his hair, taking care to move her hand slowly, letting him track her fingers as they near him. His hair is slightly damp, his scalp burning with heat, and she slowly works through the tangles. His head ever so slightly relaxes into her touch and he lets out the tiniest sigh. She steps closer, and he presses his forehead into her chest. She can feel now that he’s trembling against her, and she feels the beginning of an ache take up residence in her throat. She pulls his head into her, and he wraps his arms around her legs, breathing in her scent, practically clinging to her. She strokes his hair, letting him hold onto her as long as he needs.

His breathing gradually slows from sporadic gasps to a more even rhythm. She wants to know what happened today to send him into this state, but she knows not to press. Not now. Eventually, some of the tension begins to melt out of his neck. She marvels at how physical it is, how clearly she can see as he slowly unclenches each tiny muscle in his shoulders. At some point, when his breathing is more regular and his body looser, he untangles himself from her and rubs a hand down his face. When he looks up at her, his expression is so open, so vulnerable, that she almost pulls him back to her. She watches all of his emotions flit across his features, relief, gratitude, shame.

“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice raw. 

She takes his hand and pulls him to his feet. “Let’s watch a movie.”

[whump-cravings]

Tortured Prince - A Moment's Respite

Tortured Prince AU Masterlist - TR3 Masterlist

1.5k words | Original Work: Tortured Prince (AU of TR3). Set pre-escape, after Dead Man's Tears and before Ritual

Content: Royal whump, caretaking (for real this time, but not as much as he deserves), shame over scars, anxiety over choices/being away from whumper

"You always bring me the nicest things," a woman's sardonic voice came from before Baltar.

Venja's familiar touch carded through Baltar's hair. "Where would you like him, my lady?"

The woman stood and stepped forward, her fingers wrapping around Baltar's chin to tilt his face up. Despite his confusion, he knew better than to resist. His mind felt elsewhere as he went pliant in the woman's hands. She examined him with some mixture of disgust and hate. A circlet rested on her head.

Even in his state, Baltar could put together who this was: Ochvlita, Queen of Beor.

She dropped his chin, her fingernails raking against his skull as she ran them through his unkempt hair. "Take him to Alor. She'll know what to do with this mess. Then ready him in his chambers for my use."

I'm ... not being killed. The bag had only been concealing him. He let out a breath, and tears slipped out. He wasn't sure whether they were from dread or relief or sheer exhaustion.

He could feel Ochvlita's eyes on him. "You did wonderfully with him, Venja. Well done."

Venja preened, bowing. "It was my pleasure, my lady. I'll have his highness prepared."

Baltar felt as if in a daze as Venja refitted the bag and pulled him back to his feet. He shuffled along compliantly, weariness weighing him down more with each step. His sedentary rut had atrophied his body, and he was lightly winded by the time they arrived at their destination.

A damp heat curled against his skin, smoke and fragrance on the air, as they stepped through a doorway. Baltar was granted his sight again and he found himself in a tiled room with a lavish inset bath A smoking woman sat on a chair before a vanity with a young man at her side.

"Dovche's balls," she swore upon seeing Baltar. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Venja shrugged. "Clean him up."

The woman, presumably Alor, held a hand to her forehead in consternation. "Alright," she sighed, taking a long drag from her smoke. "Alright. Time to work." She twisted and snuffed the pipe out.

"I'll help," Venja said.

"No," Alor said, standing up. "Uncuff him and wait outside."

Baltar's heart thudded painfully and he went still, barely breathing. One did not refuse Venja.

Venja scowled. "He's under my supervision."

"I cannot work with your positively turgid aura hanging about," Alor proclaimed dramatically, squaring up against the man. She held out a slender hand. "The key, if you'd be so kind—or would you like to explain to our queen why her wishes have been delayed?"

Scowl etched deeper, Venja reluctantly produced a key. Alor's long fingers plucked it from his hand. "Far be it from me to interrupt with my turgid-ness," he said. "I'll be right outside."

Venja stepped out, leaving Baltar alone with strangers. Between the removal of physical support and the unknowns of the situation, he felt the loss of his chaperone keenly. He leaned his weight onto his right leg as his left knee's ache increased.

"What a loathsome man," Alor muttered under her breath, then turned a critical eye on the mess before her. "Now, darling, your hands." She took Baltar's hands, removing the chain linking them. She held it off to the side while still holding Baltar's left hand, and the unknown young man stepped forward to take it from her.

"Fingers are crooked," she murmured, taking his right hand for comparison while frowning. "Hm. Nothing to be done for it. Let's get you out of these clothes and into the bath." She pulled him by the hand.

Baltar followed her anxiously in a shuffling limp. The result of her command was clear enough but did she want him to undress himself or...?

"Can you—do you want—?" the young man asked, gesturing to Baltar's clothes.

Tears welled up in Baltar's eyes and a tremble ran through him. Venja made the decisions, and Venja wasn't here, and Baltar had no way to signal him, or tell these people the arrangement.

A long moment passed before Alor said, "Alright... well. Olire, undress him. Gently now."

As Alor took the decision away, Baltar let out a shaky breath of relief. Olire nodded and stepped forward, hands only a little hesitant to strip Baltar. The man froze when he saw Baltar's scarred torso. Alor took in a sharp breath as well.

His throat choked with tears again as they looked at his ruined body, hands shaking at his sides. The shame he had believed stripped from him still lurked there, waiting for new eyes.

Alor cleared her throat and Olire nodded at the unspoken order. He helped Baltar undress entirely, then wrapped a long rectangle of off-white fabric about his waist, presumably for modesty. Olire and Alor shucked their outer clothes as well, and were left in similar attire.

They guided Baltar into the bath. His foot slipped on the first step, but Olire and Alor caught him, supporting him the rest of the way.

Blissful heat enveloped him as he gratefully sank onto a bench beneath the water. Everything instantly felt lighter, and a content sigh escaped him.

"Cleaning time," Alor said, and the two of them began to work. Olire took Baltar's arms while Alor started at his head, collecting water in a basin and dumping it over him. Their ministrations, while brusque and efficient, had a gentleness he hadn't felt in an eternity; Baltar melted into their touch, particularly as Alor massaged lavender-scented soap into his scalp.

He flinched as Olire went over his ribs and his most recent scars, still painful to the touch. Olire started, hands falling from Baltar. "Sorry," the assistant murmured, using the softest touch to clean that area. Slowly, Baltar eased back into relaxation.

Once he was clean and rinsed off, Alor guided him into a chair. She combed through his hair, scissors at the ready. Meanwhile, Olire filed and buffed nails.

As bits of hair fell on Baltar's naked shoulders, an overwhelming heaviness weighed on him once more and tears slipped out. The man in the mirror, hollow and gaunt, was an ugly, wretched thing. Prince. What an ill-fitting name.

Alor dropped some oil onto his head, spreading it with a comb before using a hand towel to soak up the extra and tousle his reinvigorated hair. "That's better," she murmured, sweeping his shoulders clean with a soft-bristled brush. She paused afterwards, a couple of fingers tracing a thick scar. "Venja never oiled these or massaged them, did he?"

Baltar blinked and looked up at her, surprised to have been asked a question. Confused, he shook his head.

Alor's lips pursed and she set her tools down, glaring at the door. "Of course he wouldn't do something that doesn't directly benefit him," she muttered. "Then again, I wouldn't expect that troglodyte to know such things."

Olire caught Baltar's confusion, and explained, "The mistress asks because oil and massage can soften and flatten scars, which improves the look."

"More importantly in this instance, it frequently decreases stiffness and pain," Alor added, frowning. "I'll speak to Vian."

"The palace physician," Olire said for Baltar's benefit.

"But that won't be tonight," Alor sighed. She fetched a neatly folded bundle of clothes and set them in Baltar's hands. "Go ahead and dress."

Baltar complied slowly, the construction of the clothes not entirely familiar to him and his fingers struggling with dexterous tasks. Olire stepped in to help, and soon the prince was clad. The clothes improved his reflection somewhat, hiding his frail frame and the scars upon it. The clothes were roughly his size, but not incredibly flattering as they were not tailored to him.

"That's all we can do for tonight," Alor said, a hand resting on Baltar's shoulder. She glanced towards the door, hesitating before she looked at the prince through the mirror again. Quietly, she asked, "Would you like to stay here a little longer?"

The words caught Baltar by surprise, and he unintentionally met the woman's gaze in the mirror. The offer of a moment's respite wasn't much, and he could tell that she recognized that, but even the thought of kindness after so much cruelty was... overwhelming.

He hunched over, covering his eyes with a hand as jumbled emotions rose up within him. Do not ask this of me, was all he could think. She didn't understand what she was asking, for him to... to make that kind of decision, to actively decide to desire—to revive that part of him that was defiant, the part that did not yield to whatever Venja wanted of him.

Alor sighed above him, and he heard a striker. He looked up to find her taking a pull on her now-lit pipe. "He sure fucked you up good, huh?" She shook her head, blowing out a curl of smoke. "Motherfucker."

"Mistress?" Olire asked uncertainly.

She shook her head. "Nothing we can do, kid. Go tell Venja to come get him."

A moment later saw Venja's return to Baltar's side. He immediately ruffled Baltar's hair, as if to reclaim ownership over the things that had changed. Baltar leaned into the touch, anxiety abating with the familiar presence.

taglist: @nabanna @emcscared-whumps​ @nicolepascaline​ @i-can-even-burn-salad​ @melennui​​ @thecyrulik​​

[bltzgore]

show me your anxiety-riddled ocs I need them for science

Oh there are so so many XD

I'll keep it to 7 of my favorites, and do my best to keep these short but still give enough background.

Tw: nonhuman characters, mentions of burning and family death, learning disability related stress, lab rat content, and dehumanizing circumstance for nonhuman characters such as being owned or abused

Fear not, I threw in a little fluff

Among the ones I go after the most:

Rook - a scrapy fierce little creature, who's response to fear is anger. He's always afraid, always worried this fleeting period of freedom with his found family will end, or later on as he develops more self awareness, that they will get sick of him and abandon him. This manifests as him getting frustrated easier, snapping at people, and occasionally just going after them. Luckily his caretaker is an ex gladiator, and an ex hit woman, so she can take it.

Enzo - a member of the same cast as Rook. He came from very dehumanizing circumstance before he got sold off. He is a people pleaser because that's how he learned to survive. So at first he was pretty nervous around his rescuer/caretaker, but that wore off pretty quickly. He took to worry about her and the others in their found family, that they'd get hurt, or found (they're on the run) not to mention he harbors alot of insecurity, very low self worth. This is something the caretaker helps amend, as she doesn't want to see him get hurt or taken advantage of.

One of my favorite symbolic demonstrations of his healing over time is his singing. Hear me out. He's a siren type creature, so he loves to sing, he's meant to. But the people who own him before punish him for it for various reasons. The longer he spends with caretaker the stronger his voice gets, it starts out with gentle songs, and moves up to powerful rock lyrics and stuff depending on his mood.

Cam (or Rally, I'm having a hard time picking a name) - a fire elemental in a world where elementals are considered highly dangerous. His family helps him hide it, but one day a fire starts in his house (he believes he started it while he was sleeping). In his fear he accidentally makes it much worse, and his parents do not make it out. He's stuck in the house in a state of panic and fear and general mourning because he can't process that his fire is just what took his family, when his caretaker to be (another elemental named Rafiki/Rafi/Raf) runs in to save him. From then on he's deeply scared that he will hurt someone again, or worse.

Thing is, we learn that he wasn't the original cause of the fire. It was an agent of the government hoping to send him into a panic. When Cam discovers this, he goes after them, getting caught and put under the control of this mind control device called the halo (its a metal ring that is affixed to the head). Then, he is forced to go after his friends. He burns Rafiki severely enough that it even gives her trauma.

Rex - a post-wolf (meaning after wolf, not one who works with mail) supersoldier. Who develops high levels of anxiety around his technical studies when he struggles with reading due to dyslexia and adhd.

Static - a very sweet bean who is among the first humans to begin developing superpowers in one of my universes due to the presence of an alien virus on earth. He's in the army when he begins developing powers, the army that advocates for killing or catching such people. He is terrified that he will be the next one dragged off to some black ops base and pulled apart like some lab rat. He finds a group of others who are hiding their powers and they do a great job protecting and hiding each other.

But one day he comes crawling back to base to get the medic while having a broken leg. The medic tends to him, then runs off to rescue his friends. But this is about the time that the higherups have put together a few things. They show up and drag him off. It is his nightmare realized. And of course his friends find and save him, but he certainly had anxiety before, it is tripped after, he has a severe case of ptsd.

Taboo - is a scorpion humanoid, he named himself as such because he thought he was just unlucky when he was little and didn't realize people were afraid of him. He is an absolute cinnamon roll (who could kill you.) And the thought of people being scared of him makes him occasionally to nervous to act and really really sad (poor boi).

Flux - Flux does not remember what he used to be. He was sure he used to have flesh parts instead of metal ones but he doesn't anymore. He is a rescued lab rat, who was pulled apart and put back together so much his trauma response became appease. So even after rescue he constantly fears that he will do something wrong, and wind up back on that table. Thing is, he could never figure out what the criteria was that got him back there at the lab, and th le rules with these new people make even less sense!

I hope this helped with your science 😁

[whumpypepsigal]

JJ + chest pain

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Late night’s studying

Summary: reader pushes herself too far for university and work. Scarlett and Lizzie look after her.

Tw: fainting, overworking, stress, assignments

Words: 3.2K

A/n I might be projecting … once again lol

Lately you hadn’t had time to do much other than work and study. Being the youngest on set was great sometimes but it also really sucked.

Lately you had been swamped with assignments, you had been extremely stressed trying to get it all done before the university deadlines. You had already applied for one extension, but it didn’t seem like enough.

You spent long hours filming scenes over and over, but your mind was anywhere but where it was meant to be.

Being the youngest you didn’t want the others to know you were still getting some form of higher education. It’s not that you weren’t proud of it, no not at all, it was more you didn’t want them to see you as anymore of the child they all treated you like. You were legally an adult but being the youngest made you the baby of the marvel set.

On screen your character spent a lot of time with the scarlet witch and black widow meaning you shot lots of scenes with Elizabeth and Scarlett. They had been very nice and invited you to join them at the cast parties and dinners that various actors on set hosted, but you had always politely declined much to their dismay.

On set and off set Elizabeth and Scarlett had practically adopted you. Yet whenever you were done filming for the day you disappeared to your trailer.

As the weeks wore on your work was piling up with unfinished tasks you simply hadn’t had time to get to. You were almost three weeks behind in your deadlines now and it was majorly stressing you out.

You had been pulling ultra late nights in an effort to meet due dates where you could. Settling for half effort when you really just wanted to sleep. You had barely managed four hours each night for the past week being awake well into the early hours of the morning.

You knew you weren’t the only one staying in your trailer overnight, so you had to be careful not to arouse suspicions towards your sleeping habits. The amount of coffee you had been ingesting was somewhere between ungodly and criminal. Makeup covered your racoon eyes and as like the night goblins that roamed the neighbourhoods you felt like trash.

You rubbed a fist at your eyes looking up from your laptop to glance at the time. 3am, sighing you saved and closed your work. It was time for bed. You had to be up soon anyway for early morning filming.

Setting your alarm and collapsing into bed you snuggled up praying the coffee you had wouldn’t keep you awake and rob you of the precious hours of sleep your hectic schedule allowed.

You woke up to a fist banging on the door.

“Y/n, get your butt out here filming starts in thirty minutes and you’re keeping hair and makeup waiting.” Alyssa your manager yelled.

“I’m up.” You called back springing out of bed and almost falling over as your tired body protested.

“You better be.” You heard her grumble before she moved away from your trailer.

You found your costume hung where you had left it over the back of a chair and slipped it on. Inspecting the damage of the previous late night under your eyes and slapping on some concealer. The lady who did your makeup never commented that you were always already wearing some, you appreciated that she never mentioned it in front of Scarlett and Lizzie.

After throwing a hoodie over the costume you slipped out the trailer shivering in the cold. You headed for hair and makeup and stifled a yawn as you stepped into the slightly bigger trailer.

Scarlett and Lizzie were already there and halfway done with their costumes as you flopped into a seat next to Scarlett.

“Tired already Y/n/n?” Scarlett laughed.

You shot her a smile which came as more of grimace. “Yeah, I guess.” You said with a hum and a dejected chuckle. You were too exhausted to see the worried looks Scarlett and Lizzie exchanged beside you.

“You know if you ever need to talk about stuff, we’re here for you?” Lizzie said recognising your anxiety as you fiddled with your rings.

“We’ll always listen honey.” Scarlett said placing her hand on top of yours and looking into your almost half hooded eyes.

“Um… Thanks, but I’m ok.” You said looking away as your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips.

Scarlett seemed to deflate as you rejected her help, and she patted your hand twice before returning hers to her lap.

You didn’t say much throughout the hair and makeup process. Once more the kind women didn’t mention your copious amount of concealer that was hiding your secret honorary racoon status as a member of the sleepless night club.

Scarlett and Lizzie kept an eye on you but eventually had to leave to shoot some scenes together before they needed you on set as well.

The two women had noticed you pulling away more than usual and your quieter than normal behaviour. You had stopped having lunch with them and after a while of you rejected their offers, they were close to giving up on asking.

“Do you think somethings going on at home?” Lizzie asked Scarlett as they finished a scene.

“No. I’m not sure what it is but i don’t think it’s that.” Scarlett said watching you out of the corner of her eye as you shuffled onto set and sat down in a chair, zoning out staring at a stain on the wall.

“I’m worried about her.” Lizzie said.

“Me too Liz, but we’ll just have to wait for her to come to us. We just need to not let her push us away.” Scarlett said as the director called for the scene to start.

Feeling a hand on your shoulder you jumped slightly turning to see your manger standing there with a slightly worried look in her eye.

“Y/n they’re waiting for you.” She said nodding to the set where Scarlett and Lizzie stood talking to the director.

“Oh.” You said dragging yourself upright.

As you stood your head swum, your vision went fuzzy, and you were too focused on staying upright than trying to listen to what your manager was saying.

You tried your best to downplay it and as your vision returned you nodded at what she had said, hoping it was something you were meant to agree to. Based on the small downturn of her lips you may have been wrong. You gave her a small smile to compensate, and she eyed you closely before nudging you towards the others.

you stumbled for a second despite the nudge being lighter than air. You regained your footing and went over to join the others to shoot the scene.

The filming was going well until you were up to filming a certain scene.

The scene was nothing awful, after a cut from a fight scene where your character gets knocked down Scarlett or the black widow had to help you to your feet and keep fighting. Because the scene uses your face you at least needed to be pulled up off the ground before the stunt double could take over.

Normally this would be easy but with how tired you were any sudden movements like standing too quickly made your head spin and you knew it wouldn’t just be one take.

You got into position on the ground with Scarlett above you and Lizzie watching from the side as she wasn’t needed in this scene but was in the next.

Taking a deep breath the director called for them to start rolling and Scarlett offered you a hand. Taking it she pulled you to your feet. Immediately your head felt like it was in a washing machine. The world spun and you tripped over your feet as you over balanced. Scarlett was quick to grab you before you ended up on the floor again. Setting you back on your feet you didn’t hear the director call cut and to reset. Your vision was hazy as you waited for it to come back.

A soft hand landed on your shoulder making you jump as Scarlett’s words finally reached your ears.

“-u ok y/n/n?” Scarlett asked and you swallowed nervously and nodded your vision clear.

“Let’s go again from the top.” The director called and you gingerly lowered yourself back to the ground mentally preparing to do it again.

Scarlett looked at you worriedly but ultimately knew there wasn’t much she could do.

As they began the scene again this time you didn’t stay upright for long. As soon as Scarlett pulled you up your body had had enough. Still holding your hand and with the momentum of being pulled up your body collided with Scarlett’s. Your grip going limp as you passed out. Luckily Scarlett regained her footing and wrapped her arms around you before you went down yourself.

Lizzie ran over as Scarlett laid you down on your side.

“Oh god.” Lizzie said when she realised you were out cold. “Medic!” She yelled as Scarlett crouched down beside you, one hand holding your hand and the other tapping your face as she softly called your name. “We need a medic!” Lizzie yelled as she looked around.

A moment later a medic came over and begun looking you over.

“Is there anything i should know? Have either of you noticed anything different about her in the past few days or prior to filming this morning?” The young man asked as he took your pulse with two fingers on your neck and eyes trained on his watch to count the beats.

“She seemed a little out of it this morning and she stumbled a lot during the first take.” Scarlett said.

“She’s been more anxious as well and withdrawn more than usual also.” Lizzie chipped in.

“It sounds like sleep deprivation, do either of you know if she’s been sleeping enough?” He asked.

“I’m not sure, she’s been staying in her trailer on set most nights.” Lizzie said turned to Scarlett who also shook her head.

“I don’t know either sorry.” The blonde said.

“Ok, well there’s one way to know but we need to take all this makeup off.” He said turned to look at the director stood a few feet away watching. He nodded his assent.

“She’s not going to be working for the rest of the day now anyway.” He said. “Not after passing out on set.” He added under her breath.

The medic nodded and took a wipe and begun to remove your makeup. Lizzie held in a gasp as how pale you were and how it contrasted with the dark purple smudges under your eyes.

Just as Scarlett took the cloth from his hand and finished removing your makeup with steady and tender hands you screwed your nose up, eyes fluttering as they stayed closed.

“Y/n/n?” Lizzie called taking your hand as she knelt beside you. You let out a small groan as you came back to life and exhaustion pummelled your weak body.

You smacked your lips and frowned eyes still closed. “My mouth tastes bad.” You mumbled and Lizzie laughed despite looking like she was about to start crying. Scarlett smirked and your very in character response to just passing out on set despite her mounting worries for you.

“God, Y/n don’t ever do that again.” Lizzie said brushing a curl from your eyes. “I think you just took five years off my life.” She said and you opened your eyes blinking up at her and frowning.

“Sorry.” You said going to sit up when Scarlett placed a hand on your chest to keep you down. You frowned at her looking for an explanation.

“Absolutely not.” She scolded. “You are not sitting up, yet you just passed out for gods sakes. From sleep deprivation no less, Y/n you HAVE to look after yourself.” Scarlett said and you sighed.

“Sorry.” You said again just looking up at them.

“And stop apologising.” Lizzie said with a small smile.

“So, what now?” You asked licking your dry lips. Three sets of eyes turned to the brunette medic.

“Bed rest.” He said. And there it was your two lest favourite words. You had always hated staying still and unless you were injured or dying you hated bed rest it was too boring.

You opened your mouth to protest but Lizzie and Scarlett turned to glare at you.

“So, help me Y/n, if the words about to come out of your mouth are anything but ‘yes sir’ I will personally make sure you sleep myself.” Lizzie said and Scarlett scoffed.

“I think we are already past that. Y/n your coming home with me.” Scarlett said and you wanted to protest but she continued seeing the look on your face. “Y/n, you haven’t been sleeping.” She said in a stern voice. “You need to sleep. Lizzie is staying with me as well because i’m closer to set and we are not letting you leave until you have had at least ten hours of sleep. And before you say you don’t want to impose, I’m not offering, I’m instructing. Understood?” She said and you bit your lip staying silent for a second before sighing softly and nodding.

“Right let's go then.” Scarlett said leaning down and scooping you up. A small squeak escaped your lips as you blushed furiously.

“I can walk.” You said indignantly.

“Not after that stunt you're not.” She said. “Plus, the doctor said bed rest.” She winked playfully as she carried you off set with Lizzie trailing behind.

“He’s a medic not a doctor.” You grumbled under your breath and Scarlett smirked.

“What did you say?” She asked pretending to not have heard your sarcastic quip.

“Nothing.” You huffed.

“Your glad your cute. If rose pulled a stunt like that she would be in time out for a week.” Scarlett said and you groaned.

“Rose is a child. I am an adult.” You huffed.

“An adult who acts like a child and has the self preservation of a toddler.” Lizzie teased and you glared daggers at her making her chuckle as you moved on to pouting petulantly in Scarlett’s arms to the amusement of both older actresses. As you arrived at the car and Scarlett put you in the backseat with Lizzie you begun to regret not putting up more of a fight.

“Come on Y/n/n, it’ll be fun. We’ll have a movie night.” Lizzie said switching her approach to a softer one.

“Is rose attending this movie night?” You asked and Scarlett nodded as she adjusted the rear-view mirror.

“Probably.” She said and you groaned loudly.

“I am NOT watching frozen again.” You said sliding your hands down your face in defeat.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, you love it.” Lizzie teased elbowing you in the ribs.

“Not when it’s the millionth time watching it.” You shot back.

“Sure, thing L/n.” Lizzie said sarcastically. You rolled your eyes and leant against the window closing your eyes.

You were out like a light before Scarlett could park the car. Leading to you once more being carried around in Scarlett’s arms as they decided not to wake you up just yet.

Rose was still at school and Colin was in the studio with the writers today meaning for now it was just you three.

Scarlett laid you down between the two of them in the day room as she tucked a blanket around you and switched on the TV flicking through to find something was watch.

You stirred slightly as the two of them got comfy next to you. Scarlett had an arm around you protectively while Lizzie’s shoulders were pressed gently against your right chest as she had burrowed into your side.

Your eyes fluttered as you yawned, opting to not move from the warmth and comfort of the two women.

The events of the day slammed into you as you realised you still had three essays due soon and countless homework tasks.

You must have subconsciously tensed as both actresses turned to look as you. The sound of some rom com playing in the background.

“Hello sweetie.” Scarlett said with a smile. “Feeling any better, you must be exhausted.” She said and you nodded staying silent.

Lizzie eyed you closely taking note of your quiet demeanour. Reaching out and taking your hand in hers she gave it a soft squeeze.

“Talk to us sweetheart.” Lizzie said softly. “I can see somethings bothering you. Tell us what’s on your mind, it may help you feel better.” She said and you drew a slow shaky breath as the dam broke. You let out a choked sob as you curled into Scarlett’s side, Lizzie curling against your back and rubbing a hand up and down your arm as you trembled with silent sobs.

“I have so much work to do. I didn’t want the cast to treat me as a child, so I didn’t tell them I’m still at university.” You said as Scarlett gently ran her hands through your hair.

“So, you’ve been juggling acting and uni full time and none of us knew?” Lizzie said and you sniffled nodding as you turned to look at her with your teary gaze.

“Honey you must be so stressed. Is this why you have been sleeping? Too much to do and not enough time?” Scarlett asked and you nodded again biting your lip to stop it trembling.

Lizzie softly reached out to remove your lip from your teeth with her thumb. “None of that honey.” She reprimanded softly.

“Well now we know, you won’t be doing it alone we’ll help you. You can stay here with us and as well as making sure you sleep; we can help with any work you have.” Scarlett said.

“I did graduate from NYU after all, I’m not just a pretty face.” Lizzie joked and your lips curved into a small smile.

“There’s that gorgeous smile.” Scarlett said as she rubbed your arm. “Now it’s time to rest, your exhausted and you are doing nothing other than rest for the foreseeable future okay?” She asked.

“But … but my assignments.” You said looking up as her.

“Shhh leave it to us, and everything will be sorted.” Scarlett said as she guided your head to her chest. “Rest honey. Go to sleep you need it.” She said and you curled into her. She was warm and cozy and at some point, Lizzie and Scarlett had changed as you were also in comfier clothes than your costume. Not that you minded.

You let out a small sigh sandwiched between the two. Your head resting on Scarlett’s chest as she played with your hair, your body half in her lap. Lizzie was spooning you from behind with her head resting on your shoulder to watch the movie you had all been ignoring.

You finally felt relaxed for the first time in what must have been months thanks to them.

Maybe you weren’t sleeping well on your own, but when Scarlett and Lizzie were there, you felt protected and safe enough to sleep, no long worrying about your studies which as they had said, could always wait for you to be healthy again.

[federaliszt]

whumpees who are hyperattuned to any traces of anger, who fill with silent tension at the sound of raised voices in the other room, who miss a step on their way down the stairs when someone thumps them on the back unexpectedly, even if it's in a playful way. whumpees who constantly scan other people's faces for microexpressions that betray frustration or disappointment, who flinch away from the slightest indications of tension, because they're so used to the threat of violence or demeaning/abusive language following it. whumpees who start an explanation with "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry" even though they've done nothing wrong. whumpees who stand awkwardly in group settings, trying to participate in discussions but terrified of saying the wrong thing. whumpees who experience flashbacks while in the middle of talking to others, and who feel they have to bottle it up and hide it even though everyone can tell something is wrong. whumpees whose arms and hands move to protect their face or chest despite the fact that they're in a physically safe situation. whumpees who are tough as nails on the outside but skittish like deer on the inside, whose heart races wildly as they pause outside the door, listening to what caretaker says about them, knowing that it shouldn't bother them one way or the other, but needing to confirm that caretaker doesn't hate them for existing. whumpees who need constant reassurance that their presence in other people's lives is valuable and welcome. whumpees who don't let others see them cry, because acting strong and unruffled has been drilled into them for years on end, but who make up an excuse to dart out of the room when other people compliment them or praise them. whumpees who finally find Their People and can bask in the luxury of finally feeling true and permanent safety.

[whump-or-whatever]

Got any whumps for a workaholic?

I may have some ideas… 🤔

Not getting any sleep either cause they’re busy doing work or they’re too stressed to sleep

Lack of sleep=bags under the eyes, easily confused, headaches, etc.

They either forget to eat or are so anxious about work they don’t feel hungry

Lack of food=chills, lightheadedness, shakiness, potential for fainting, etc.

Shaky hands could mean slip-ups such as spilling coffee, accidentally cutting or burning themself in a lab, and so on

When someone is overworked they don’t operate at peak capacity, so they could end up making a mistake that costs lives (eg. Doctor mixing up patient charts), which results in hella guilt

Workaholic emerging from their workspace after being cooped up for a long time and squinting into the sun, shielding their eyes

Not keeping up with hygiene

Chugging coffee or energy drinks until they’re jittery and yet can still hardly keep their eyes open

Caretaker(s) trying to convince them to take care of themself and get some rest, to no avail

Maybe eventually caretaker(s) has to intervene by force, drag the workaholic away from their task kicking and screaming

Caretaker(s) finding the workaholic collapsed on the floor of their workspace

Maybe they’re using their work to distract themself from other issues

Falling asleep at their work table, resulting in back pain and sore joints/muscles

Increased stress levels could result in anxiety attacks, mental effects from long term exposure to anxiety such as depression, and physical symptoms of anxiety

Deteriorating relationships with the people workaholic cares about as they drift further and further away

Feel free to add!

[whump-galaxy]

A scientist befriends their subject, the alien whumpee. Of course, that makes them the best candidate to do all the testing. From blood work, to scans, to physicals, to biopsies. If the alien trusts them in the end, it’ll be a miracle.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

The Grand A-Z List of Whump 1/3

This list contains ~290 items listed A to H

As always, I heavily encourage people to research topics thoroughly when writing as it is important to avoid stereotypes/misinformation. This list's intention is not to glorify/romanticise sensitive topics in any way.

This part one-of-three comprehensive lists of injuries, Illnesses and tropes - including those from the Whumptober 2023 trope vote!

All submissions are listed in italics, and those who wanted to be tagged will be included at the end. If you have any more submissions: please send them via DM/my ask box.

[I-Q] [R-Z] [NSFW List]

List below the cut:

#

"I don't need your help."

"I'm doing this to make you better"

"I'm fine, take care of them!"

“I’m Fine”

"Kill me instead"

"Let me in."

"Look at me."

"Should I know you?"

"Take me instead."

(No) Anaesthetic

A

A Good Ol' Sickfic

Abandoned

Abdominal Pain

Aching Wounds

Acne

Adrenaline Crash

Adrift (in space/at sea)

Agoraphobia

Airsickness

Alien abduction

Allergies

Alopecia

Ambulance Ride

Ambush

Amnesia/memory loss

Amputations

Anaemia

Anesthesia

Angina (Heart condition that causes pain)

Animal Attack/Bite

Ankle Sprain

Anthrax

Anxiety/Anxiety attack(s)

Aphasia

Appendicitis

Arrested

Arthritis

Asking for help

Asphyxiation

Assumed Dead

Asthma/Asthma Attack

Auctions

Autoimmune disease

Avalanches

B

Backache

Bad Caretakers

Bandaged Head

Banished

Barbed Wire

Bear trap

Beaten up by ex-friends

Beaten with blunt object (i.e, bat or pipe)

Beatings

Bedrest

Bedside Vigil/Hospital Vigil

Begging

Betrayed by close friend/team/family

Bites (Animal, Bug, Human….)

Biting

Black Eye

Blackmail

Bleeding Out

Bleeding Through

Bandages

Blindfolded

Blindness (this could be temporary or permanent)

Blisters

Blood Loss

Blood Poisoning

Bloodied Knuckles

Bloodstains/blood trail

Bloody handprints

Bloody nose

Blunt force trauma

Blurred vision

Body modification

Body Sharing

Body Switching

Bounty on their head

Brain Damage

Brainwashing

Breakdowns

Breathless

Bridal Carry

Broken Bones (Ribs, Arm, Leg)

Broken Nose

Broken Promises

Bronchitis

Bruises

Building Collapse

Bullet Removal

Bumpy roads jarring injuries

Buried Alive

Burning Building

Burns/Scalding

Busted kneecap

C

Cancer

Caning

Capgras syndrome/delusion (belief that someone close to/important to the person has been replaced by an imposter)

Capsulitis

Captivity

Captured

Car chases (and maybe a car crash)

Carbon monoxide poisoning

Cardiac Arrest

Caretaker has to “play nice” with whumper.

Caretaker has to hurt whumpee while undercover.

Caretaker sacrificing something dear to them to get something the whumpee needs.

Caretaker turned Whumpee

Caretaker-whumper who's a parental whumper. But their "love" is not real love. Or even right treatment.

Carsickness

Cataracts

Catatonia

Caught in a fire

Caught in an explosion

Cauterization

Cave In

Cavity

Celebrity whump (exploitation in the music/movie industries…)

Chaffing from ropes/handcuffs/shackles

Chained/Shackled

Checking for injuries

CHF - congestive heart failure

Chicken Pox

Chills

Chloroform

Choking

Chronic pain

Claustrophobia

Cleaning wounds alone

Cold/Flu,

Collapsed Lung

Collapsing (into someone’s arms is usually nice, bonus points for cradling their head as they lower the whumpee to the floor)

Collapsing after they win

Collapsing/Fainting/Passing Out

Collars

Coma

Comfort after a nightmare

Common cold

Completely betrayed by their own team

Complications

Concussion

Confusion

Constipation

Constricted Airways

COPD - Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease makes breathing increasingly more difficult.

Corporal Punishment

Corset too tight and won’t unbutton

Coughing

Coughing Up Blood

CPR

Cramps

Crikes (intubation through neck)

Crush injury

Crying

Cuddle pile

Curses

Cuts/Grazes

Cutting off hair (more of an emotional hurt)

Cyanide poisoning

D

Damaged Larynx/Vocal Cords

De-aging

Deathbed Confessions (don’t have to actually die and stay dead, just the threat of dying)

Defeat

Defenestration (throwing out a window)

Dehydration

Deja Vu

Delirium (bonus points for this being drug/ fever induced)

Deluded whumper/thinking they’re helping the whumpee

Dengue Fever

Denial

Depression

Dermatitis

Diabetes (type 1 and 2)

Diarrhea

Diseases ('mystery' diseases are the best kind)

Dislocations

Disorientation

Disowned by Family

Displaced hip

Dissociation

Distress call

Dizziness

Dragged Away

Dream sequence

Driving to the hospital with a whumpee slumped barely-conscious in the seat of the car

Drowning

Drunkenness

E

Ear Infection

Edema (swelling from build up of fluid)

EKG

Electrical Burns

Electrical shock

Electrocution

Emergency field surgery

Emergency Surgery

Emotional angst

Emotional manipulation

Endometriosis

Enemy to Caretaker

Energy Drain

Environmental whump

ER

Execution

Exes reunited with one wanting a relationship and the other just wanting friendship.

Exhaustion

Experimentation

Exposure

Extreme Weather

Eye injury

F

Facing Phobias

Failed Escape

Failure to thrive

Fainting

Fainting (but also fainting aftermath) / Fainting due to lack of sleep, food, or overworking fainting from exhaustion

Falling

Falling for Caretaker/Whumpee/Whumper

Falling Through Ice

Fatigue/Exhaustion

Fever

Fibromyalgia (Chronic Pain)

Field medicine

Fighting (while injured)

Financial difficulty faced + how whumper might take advantage of that + how caretaker handles everything (well/badly)

Finding your loved one dead without explanation but thinking they’re still alive.

Fireman's carry

Flare ups

Flashbacks

Flinching away

Flu

Food Poisoning

Forced to... (Break out, Choose, Hurt, Kneel, Scream, Watch)

Forehead kisses

Forgotten by team

Foul-tasting medicine

Found family

Found unconscious

Fracture (Arm, Hyoid bone etc)

Freezing / cold whump

Friendly Fire

Frostbite

G

Gagged/Muzzled

Gangrene infection

Gaslighting

Gas (noxious, poisonous etc)

Gastritis

Glass (shards, debris etc)

Grief

Gunshot Wound

H

Hair Pulling/Cutting/Matting/Stroking

Hallucinations

Hanahaki

Handcuffs

Handgag

Hard ground

Haunted

Hay Fever

Head injuries/concussion

Head trauma

Headache/Migraine

Heart Palpitations

Heartburn

Heat Exhaustion

Heatstroke

Heavy metal poisoning

Held at gunpoint/knifepoint/weapon point

Hematohidrosis (Sweating blood)

Hemophilia/Hematophilia (Blood unable to clot)

Haemothorax

Hernia

Hidden Illness/Injury/Scar/Medical Issues

Hiding

High Blood Pressure

High Fever (like dangerously high)

High Pain Tolerence

Hit by a car

Home Sickness

Hospital Codes

Hostage Situation

House burnt down

Huddling for Warmth

Human Shield

Human Weapon

Hunger

Hungover

Hunted for Sport

Hurt no comfort

Hyperalgesia,

Hypermobility

Hyperventilating

Hypo/Hyperthermia

Hypo/Hyperthyroidism

Hypoglycemia

Hypotension/ Hypertension

Hypoxia

TAG LIST: Thank you very much to the following people for submitting ideas! (I apologise if some tags did not work, I'm not sure why tumblrs not letting me tag you!)

@I-eat-worlds | @greygullhaven | @letsgowhump | @cyberwhumper @firapolemos05 | @originaldeerhottub | @whumpilicious | @drawing-dinos82 | @carenrose | @stellarinuscronicles | @gottheseasonalblues | @marvelflame2010 | @sowhumpful | @avamcu | @courtneygacha | @lordofthewhumps | @autismmydearwatson | @kuddelmuddell | @the-most-handsome-ginger | @whirls-and-swirls | @painsandconfusion

[whump-queen]

whumper pretending to be mad just to see whumpee squirming and groveling and apologizing within a second because they don’t know what they did wrong but fuck they’re so so sorry and they’ll do anything to make it better—

“sir please—please let me make it up to you—I promise I’ll be better I swear—just please—”

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 51

Geralt isn't a fan of the new intern his family's office has hired. He never stops humming or snapping his fingers, and he always gets Geralt's coffee wrong, and he trips over nothing and spills paperwork everywhere at least twice a week, and he won't stop flirting with Geralt, but more than anything, the absolute worst part about it all... is Geralt's starting to look forward to his shenanigans. This all comes to a head when one night when everyone is going home, Geralt and Jaskier are last in the building. They're on their way down in the elevator when it stops. Oh shit- They're stuck in the elevator. Possibly overnight. I like to imagine Jaskier thinks Geralt hates him, and is also terrified of their current situation, so he has a quirky fun lil panic attack (I can make this joke i used to have really bad panic attacks before i got on better meds) and the person talking him down from it is the chiseled god of a man he wants to drool over but Jaskier is SURE must hate his guts. Geralt doesn't hate his guts. Anymore-

[roxygen22]

Misophonia

Summary: Timothée learns about your sensitivity to certain sounds. Female reader, boyfriend Timmy.

A/N: pulled from my own experience with self-diagnosed misophonia. Other's experiences may be different.

<><><><><>

You and Timothée were invited out on a double date with his friend, Aiden, and his girlfriend, Krista, at a nice restaurant downtown. You were seated at a circular table between Timothée and Krista. Once initial awkward conversation was out of the way, you and she hit it off once you discovered a mutual love of [insert fandom]. It felt like she was someone you could hang out with one-on-one in the future.

The evening was going smoothly until the salad and bread were brought to the table. It turned out that Krista was terrible at chewing with her mouth closed. You tried to focus on the boys' conversation to tune out the wet sounds of her smacking. You dreaded the main course, knowing you would have to endure more of these maddening noises. You were granted a temporary reprieve to regain composure when she finished her salad, but the entrees were served all too soon.

As Krista dove into her maple-glazed chicken breast, you felt yourself go pale. You stared at your own food and went through the motions of cutting it up and feeding yourself small bites, but you couldn't really even taste or enjoy it due to auditory overload. You felt your palms go sweaty as your breathing became more shallow and rapid. Your knee started bouncing as an outlet for the building panic.

You felt Timothée's hand move to your thigh. "Are you okay?" he whispered in your ear. You would normally enjoy the feeling of his nose grazing your cheek or the heat of his breath on your skin, but the sound of the whisper put you over the edge.

You nodded subtly, though your actions and demeanor demonstrated you were anything but. You dabbed your mouth with the cloth napkin, pushed yourself away from the table, and excused yourself to go to the restroom.

The budding rage gave you tunnel vision as you made your way to the back of the restaurant. Ironically, you didn't hear Timothée get up and follow you. Once you reached the hallway outside of the restrooms, you leaned against the wall with one hand to catch your breath. You whispered your sensory mantra to ground yourself, focusing on what you could see, smell, or feel rather than hear. You startled and spun around when you felt a hand take your free one.

"[Y/N], what is going on?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"I'm ok. I just need a minute. Please, just go back to the table."

Timothée made no move to leave you be. "I saw your jaw clench and nose flare. You're mad about something. What happened?"

You shook your head. Maybe later you could unpack just how sweet it was that he paid such close attention to you. "I'm not mad. Not exactly. I- I have trouble dealing with certain sounds. Like gum smacking, candy wrappers, the sound dry cotton balls make when you pull one apart. But smacking especially. It- it's called misophonia. I get...anxious and angry if it continues and panicky if I can't get away from it. Krista's chewing set it off."

"We can leave if-"

"No, no. It's ok. I'll be ok. I'll come back in just a minute." You put a hand to your forehead. "I'm sorry. Please go back and just tell them I needed to visit the restroom. Say the wine went to my head or something." You scoffed. "I'm usually better at dealing with this."

Timothée laid a hand on your shoulder. The weight of it was calming. "We all have...stuff, [Y/N]. I didn't much care for seeing half-masticated food rolling around in her mouth, either."

You giggled quietly, then cast your eyes to the floor.

"Why haven't you talked to me about this before?" he asked solemnly.

You raised your chin to look up at him. He looked sincere, not at all put off by what you had just admitted. "It's embarrassing. It's not exactly something easy to bring up in casual conversation," you replied. "And besides, when it's not triggered, I don't actively think about it. Like I said, I can usually work through it, especially if the exposure is limited."

"But you are miserable until it passes."

You simply nodded in response.

"Oh, [Y/N]," he whispered as he brought his hand to your cheek. "Thank you for telling me. You don't have to deal with this alone. Now I can be more mindful about your known triggers and help run interference before you get to this point." He paused briefly. "Though I don't know how to help once we get back to the table."

"I'll be ok. She should be done soon and dessert is a smaller course. She's otherwise a lovely girl, Timothée. Maybe we could find other...non-dining...things to do with them in the future."

He smiled and nodded. "Sure. I'll head back now that I know you're alright. Join us when you are able." He kissed your forehead and turned to leave.

"Timothée," you called out. He turned at the sound of his name. "Thank you for not making me feel...weird about it."

"Oh, you are weird, [Y/N]" he replied and flashed a grin, which you returned. "But not for that. And I love you for it. You're my weirdo."

You blushed as he turned away once again. You loved that man to the moon and back.

<><><><><>

A couple of days later, Timothée came by your apartment to hang out and watch a movie. He handed you a small box as he entered before plopping down on the couch. You sat down next to him and started to open it.

"I, uh, did some research on misophonia." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I read that these may help," he said as you pulled out a set of [insert favorite color] earbuds from the box. "They allow conversational tones through while - hopefully - muffling other unwanted noises."

You felt tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you looked over at him. "Thank you. And they are even my favorite color." He blushed as you kissed him on the cheek.

"Maybe you could try them out during the movie?" he offered. You nodded and set to securing them in your ears while he pulled up the film.

Timothée's purchase was spot on. You were able to hear the movie audio clearly and tune out his distracting yet endearing habit of shuffling through the popcorn bowl to find the pieces with the most butter.

When the credits rolled, he looked over at you inquisitively. "Well?"

"They worked! Thank you."

"Anything for my girl. I couldn't bear to think of all the times you were likely miserable while I was oblivious. And how often I may have unknowingly contributed."

"It's okay, Timmy. I can't expect everyone to tiptoe around me, nor do I want to make people feel self-conscious."

"Have I ever triggered it?"

You just stared at him, unsure of how to proceed.

"The answer is yes if you couldn't quickly say no. Just tell me," he prodded.

You gestured to the popcorn bowl. "This is a good example. The shuffling of popcorn when people grab a handful. It's usually not continuous enough to induce anger. Just annoyance and distraction."

Timothée looked horrified. "Oh...oh, [Y/N], I'm so sorry."

"See, this is why I don't talk about it. There is no use in shaming people for perfectly normal sounds. But the earbuds worked. I hardly noticed when you were digging through the bowl."

"Digging?" He raised an eyebrow in response.

You smiled widely. "You....have a habit of searching for buried treasure rather than taking some off the top."

Timothée blushed. "I didn't even realize. I guess that's weird, huh?"

"That's ok," you said soothingly as you kissed the tip of his nose. "You're my weirdo."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovy-lady