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#happy whumping
mj-iza-writer · 8 months
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Things I'm currently going through that you can absolutely use for your Whump characters.
Warning: I am explaining what I am going through right now. This has mentions of passing out, puke, and blood. Please don't read if those are icky to you. I am also not tagging the ones I normally tag because I don't know what they're squicks are.
I think I'm having a bad reaction to a medicine that I tried to take to get rid of the bad cold I've had for a week straight.
So here is how my day is currently going. Maybe some of this may inspire a story. I hope you enjoy.
• I woke up at 4:30 am to a Charlie Horse in my leg.
• At 4:30 am I went to the bathroom, I felt like I was going to puke. A few minutes later I hear myself moaning and my back is hurting. My mom is opening the bathroom door because she heard something fall. I had fainted and was lying sideways against our shower door. I had passed out for a minute.
• I have thrown up 3 times today so far, and I'm sure I'm not done yet.
• I legit yell and groan while I puke. I also gasp for air after every hurl.
•My throat is raw from the acidic puke.
• My chest and ribs are sore from heaving.
• After every time, I have been shaky and weak as I try to piece myself together. (If your Whumpee doesn't have a Caretaker)
• I am fluctuating between chills and sweating. The cold sweats are horrible also.
• I have blood in my eye from bursting a blood vessel from puking. That was terrifying when I looked into the mirror.
• I have no appetite, I either eat something to puke later or I dry heave, both hurt the same.
•My head is killing me.
So yeah, no matter who you give these to, your character is bound to have a bad time. Happy Whumping, I'm going to try to take a nap now.
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whumpypepsigal · 2 years
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2022 gave us a lot of good good whump. it’s been great! hoping 2023 has more in store for us. im so excited for the new year and can’t wait. thank you all for the support and sticking with me through my ever-changing hyperfixations/obsessions. i love you whump community so damn much.
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! 🥂🎉🎊. hope you all have wonderful time celebrating. be blessed and stay safe 🧡🧡🧡.
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♡ I hope 2024 brings every fanfic writer lots of juicy, spicy, angsty, whumpy, crazy, delicious ideas and motivation. may words flow smoothly through your mind and may you find pure joy and satisfaction in your writing. you will do great. I am rooting for you.
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idyllicwillowtree · 7 months
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God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me.
Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers
Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader wears makeup, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, reader is called princess, swearing
Author’s note: I got this idea from an episode of Freaks and Geeks (which is an awesome show I totally recommend). Peanut allergies weren’t so common in the 80s so that’s why Jason is so ignorant and dismissive about it.
Sorry I haven’t written in a while, I was hibernating.
Enjoy!
Main Masterlist
Part 1:
Eddie proudly sauntered into first period with his head held high and a smirk on his lips. His mouth was watering in anticipation. He plopped himself down in the seat next to yours, wide eyes and a wicked grin plastered on his face, an eager hand open towards you.
“Wow Eddie. It’s 7:29, you got here with a minute to spare,” you said as you leaned over to grab the bite size Laffy Taffy from your backpack to place in Eddie’s hand. “I think this candy reward system is really working.”
“Of course it worked, it was your idea after all. But today’s a special day, I was definitely not going to not be here,” Eddie said with too much energy for this early in the morning. He stuffed the yellow taffy into his mouth and chewed it like a happy 5 year old, wiggling in his seat with excitement.
“Are you talking about the photo?”
“Yeah! Hellfire finally gets a spot in the yearbook. We shall finally leave our mark on this cesspool we call a school,” Eddie said through the glob of candy in his mouth. He swallowed the treat harshly as he got a good look at you, “you look great by the way.”
“Yeah?” you said shyly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You started fiddling with the hem of your Hellfire shirt, “I thought I’d go with a bit more eyeliner today.” 
“Yeah, you did a great job princess.” With the excuse of admiring your eyeliner, Eddie was able to take a moment to study your features. Your gaze stayed on your hands, picking at a loose thread.
“God, Eddie. You’re so in love with me,” you said with a teasing smile. 
Eddie barked out a laugh, dimples on full display as he tried not to let your words affect him too seriously. 
“Great, the flirting freaks are back at it again.” Jason remarked from a few rows behind you. Both of you turned around in time to see Andy dramatically fake gagging.
Before you could hurl an insult back at them, Eddie took notice of what Jason was snacking on.
“Hey asshole, you can’t eat peanuts in class.”
“Yeah? And who’s gonna stop me, Munson? You?” Jason said through a full mouth, spitting out chunks as he laughed obnoxiously with Andy.
You simply rolled your eyes at Jason, annoyed with the jocks and their willingness to tease and fight so early in the morning.
Eddie’s grip tightened on the back of his chair. His white knuckles caught your eye and you reached out to sooth him, hoping he wouldn’t start a fight he couldn’t finish. The second your hand landed on his, the tension in his shoulders deflated and the fire in his eyes was snuffed out as he sent you a reassuring smile. 
Jason waved around his ziplock tauntingly, “Seriously freak, let’s see if you can actually take these from-”
“I’ll take those,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she walked in behind Jason and snatched the bag. “Mr. Carver, you know you’re not allowed food in my class, let alone peanuts.”
“But coach said we have to protein-load before the game tonight,” Jason wined.
“Too bad. Some allergies can be very serious,” You shrunk in your seat as the other students turned to stare at you, knowing you were the one she was referring to. “You can get these back after class,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she rounded the corner of her desk to address her students. “Now, everyone, please open your textbooks to chapter six.”
You, being the diligent student you were, immediately followed orders. Eddie on the other hand didn’t even remember to bring his book bag to school, but at least he got his candy. 
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“I’m serious guys, I might have a crush on Mrs. O’Donnell now,” Eddie said to his bandmates as they sat in their unofficial assigned seats in the cafeteria.
“Just because an older female authority figure agreed with you and shut down Carver, doesn’t mean you should crush on your teacher dude,” Gareth said, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.
“Besides, you already have a crush,” Jeff added with a teasing smile, the metal on his teeth catching the fluorescent lights.
“Are you guys talking about my sister?” Dustin said while throwing his lunch tray on the table, taking a seat next to Eddie. The rest of his sheep following close behind.
“No-”
“Yes,” all three of the older Hellfire members said in unison.
Eddie shot them a look that would’ve shut them up if the metalhead’s pale cheeks weren’t tinted pink. 
“Gross,” Dustin added.
Mike’s brows did their signature furrow under his dark bangs, “I don’t get it, why doesn’t he just ask her out?” he said, purposefully ignoring Eddie’s presence at the table.
“GROSS,” Dustin repeated, hoping the subject would change. 
Eddie was right there with him, picking up a pretzel and hurling it at Mike’s head, “I’d rather not share the complexities of the friendship-to-relationship pipeline with a baby freshman. And I. Don’t. Like. Her.” He growled, punctuating each word with a pretzel.
The metalhead’s angry scowl melted off his face at the sound of your laugh echoing through the high ceilings of the cafeteria. You were standing near the entrance with your Wonder Woman lunchbox in tow, tilting your head back as you chuckled at something Robin Buckley told you. 
That was until Jason and his entourage of goons followed him in.
He had that damn bag of peanuts in his hand, swinging it around mockingly. Eddie watched as you became tense, eyes wide and glossy. You are practically hiding behind a fuming Robin.
Before the blonde could hurl her trumpet case at the jocks, Eddie stepped up behind you both, placing a ring clad hand gently on the small of your back to let you know he was there. 
With his hand grounding you, you finally found your voice, “seriously Jason, if I come into contact with a peanut I could die.”
“Oh come on,” Jason said through a chuckle, “you’re that much of a freak that a little peanut is enough to kill you? I think you might be overreacting just a little.”
“Actually,” Dustin said as he came over to stand next to Eddie, “Anaphylaxis is incredibly dangerous. Allergic reactions to the proteins found in peanuts are cause by immunoglobulin E antibodies and can trigger severe inflammation and-”
“Dude, even her brother is a fucking dork,” Andy spat.
“Hey, don't talk to him like that,” Eddie said, stepping forward. You have always admired his fierce determination when defending your brother and the other freshmen. It’s part of what drew you to him in the first place. But this time there was no snarky comeback to Jason’s bullying. The severity of the situation on top of the jocks’ disregard for your safety was just pissing him off, making him uncharacteristically no-nonsense. 
The group of letterman jackets erupted in a chorus of ‘oooohs’. The leader just licked his lips, eyeing Eddie before smirking at you.
"You know, you might be pretty if you actually tried." 
It doesn’t have the effect on you that Jason had hoped, you could care less if he thought you were pretty. But before your athletically inexperienced friends could take on the basketball team, you plastered on your best fake smile. 
“Thanks Jason, see you guys later,” you said as you pulled your friends away leaving him confused and unsatisfied by your reaction.
“What the hell, you’re just going to let him talk to you like that?” your brother protested.
“He’s never going to change, Dustin. I might as well play into it since he’s just trying to get a rise out of us.”
You wave bye to Robin as she went to sit with her band friends, all of them decked out in their extravagant green and yellow uniforms. Eddie slid Dustin’s tray away from the spot next to him so you could set your lunchbox there and sit at his left hand side. Dustin was muttering something about losing his seat but still scooched down, knowing there was no use in fighting it. Eddie always had you right next to him.
The next few minutes of lunch went by rather smoothly. Groups of students were taken out sporadically to go to the photo room and get their yearbook club photo taken with Nancy. Occasionally, you’d catch Jason sending you angry glares but you just ignored him in favor of listening to your fellow Hellfire members. They were rambunctiously throwing out theories about tonight's campaign while Eddie just sat there with his version of a poker face, not willing to spoil anything with a teasing grin plastered to his mouth.
His eyes connected with yours, feeling you staring at him. The moment he looked at you you bashfully lowered your eyes to the cup of applesauce you were stirring around. Eddie kept his gaze on you until Nancy walked up behind him.
“Alright Hellfire, you’re up,” Nancy said with a smile. 
This was the first year Hellfire club was getting any sort of recognition in the yearbook. Previously, the teachers and students didn’t want to draw any more eyes to the alleged cult and their leader. Now that Nancy worked for the school, she played a big part in securing a photo for her brother’s club in the yearbook. Even though Eddie never liked conforming to frivolous High School expectations, he still felt honored. It was his last year after all (hopefully) and he wanted to make his mark.
You and the rest of the Hellfire members left your things at the lunch table and walked out of the cafeteria for the yearbook room down the hall. Your open applesauce was forgotten about as you followed Eddie out.
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Your shoulders were still buzzing after taking the photo. Eddie had thrown his leather clad arm around you, pulling you closer to him, while his other hand did the sign of the horns. The smell of his cologne and the texture of his battle vest overwhelmed you so much you hoped it didn’t show in the photo. Although, the smirk Nancy sent you tells you it might have.
You and the rest of Hellfire sat back down in your original seats, besides your leader. As expected, Eddie had a lot of things to say in honor of your club getting recognized so he opted to stay standing.
“Hear ye, hear ye! Rejoice, for this day shall be etched in the annals of history as a testament to our unwavering spirit and valor!”
Going back to your lunch, you scoop up the velvety applesauce to resume eating. Expecting the familiar taste of sweet and tart, you flinched at the salty crunch and swallowed it on instinct. 
“Let it be known that we have weathered the raging storm of schoolyard bullies, and emerged victorious! Our banners flying high, unfurled in the winds of destiny,” Eddie continued, not noticing your trepidation.
You frowned at the tickle in your throat that only continued to build as you tried coughing discreetly. The rest of the boys grinned, believing this was your way of hinting at Eddie to wrap up his speech.
“Let us raise our voices in jubilation, for today, we have proven that nothing is insurmountable to those who believe in their cause!” Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.
“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.
Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.
“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.”
Part 2
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entomolog-t · 8 months
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Just imagine me tossing this comic out to you guys like I'm feeding pigeons on a park bench.
pspspspsp - Come get some angst.
---
This has been sitting in my drafts for so long and I am just so happy to post it and stop obsessing over the facial anatomy that I flubbed.
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kennahjune · 9 months
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Trauma bond? No. Bro bond.
Was having Steve and Lucas bro bond thoughts that accidentally turned into Steve whump.
Steve and Lucas bonding over sports more than anyone realized they ever would.
Like yeah, everyone knew Steve played basketball and was on the swim team in high school; that was practically his entire personality for a bit. But they never realized how much he actually /liked/ the sports.
Until he was geeking out with Lucas over a new play they’d thought of.
It was odd for them all to see Steve so excited. They watched on from their seats on the front porch steps. Eddie and Jonathan each had a beer, the both of them sharing a blunt with Argyle. Nancy and Robin sat on the steps below them, watching on while Steve and Lucas payed them no mind from the driveway.
It was almost comical— how the moment Lucas showed up on his bike Steve was up in an instant. After confirming it was indeed not a code red, Steve was quick to join Lucas. Especially after being told it was basketball related.
Steve had kicked his own beer over in his haste to get up.
Now Steve and Lucas were in the driveway, the garage door down (to prevent damage to the cars) and the Harrington’s basketball hoop out. Both were blissfully unaware of the eyes following them. Well, the eyes following /Steve/, it was more like.
Circling back the earlier thought; they’d never seen him to engaging in something. So excited. So…happy.
Which was really sad to think about.
“I’ve never seen him so excited over something,” Nancy said, speaking everyone’s thoughts.
Well. Except Argyle’s, it seems. “Nah, man. He gets like this anytime he starts talking about sports. We were watching a soccer game on TV last night and he was like— totally freaking out! Waving his hands around and talking a mile a minute.”
He took a puff of the blunt and passed it to Eddie, unaware of how he just tilted everyone’s worlds.
“Wait—“ Eddie took a drag and his voice was strained while he kept in the smoke “—he actually talks to you about that shit?”
Argyle hummed and looked at Eddie oddly. Eddie blew the smoke out and held Argyle’s eye.
“Yeah dude. All the time. Might help that I played volleyball back in Cali but— really, I just like hearing him talk. And I think he likes talking. He talks a lot.”
Argyle was getting extra talkative now, his sentences becoming shorter and more frequent. That’s how you knew he was high enough to not care.
“He’s never really been that talkative,” mumbled Robin, a sudden kind of dread settling uncomfortably in her chest.
Argyle shrugged. “Maybe you don’t talk about what he likes to talk about. He likes talking about sports. And romance books. He reads a lot of romance books.”
Well isn’t that something, Eddie thought. Steve Harrington likes to read.
(It brought up a distant memory from high school, from Steve’s sophomore year and Eddie’s junior year. Back before “King Steve” meant “jackass”.
“Well well, looky here, fellas! King Steve is gracing us peasants with his presence.” Eddie called mockingly to the young man sitting at the table in the library.
Steve— only 15 at the time, not 16 for another couple of months— looked up from his book with furrowed brows and a pout on his pretty pink lips. A pout that 21 year old Eddie would come to love.
Steve hadn’t done to much in the interaction. He more or less sat in silence while Eddie went on and on about something he couldn’t remember now.
When Steve had gotten up from the table, he doggy-eared his page (like a monster) and tucked the book under his arm. Eddie saw the title only briefly, “Forever Amber”.)
“Do we really never talk about his interests?” asked Jonathan to the sky, his head tilted up while he blew the smoke away.
They all startled when a series of shouts and laughs came from Lucas and Steve in the driveway. Eddie looked over in time to watch Steve pull Lucas in for a hug where they both patted each others backs aggressively. Eddie’s seen the guys do that at games. Some kind of weird bro-hug.
Eddie continued to watch when Steve bent down to pick up the rolling basketball. Eddie’s mind went other places quick enough when Steve pulled his shorts up a little higher. Robin smacked his calf.
“Seriously, you guys never talk to him about sports?” Argyle asked, flabbergasted. And I suppose he had every right to be. These were some of Steve’s closest friends. His boyfriend and his best friend! And they never got to listen to Steve rant about a particular basketball game from high school? About some specific swimming stroke and how it helped him win swim competitions?
They were seriously missing out.
Robin hung her head in shame and thought about it, her eyes misting over the more she realized that— yeah, she never talked to Steve about sports. Let alone his other interests. (Did he have other interests? That fact that she had to ask this question made her want to cry and hug Steve.)
Robin picked her head up and propped it in her hands. She looked on with everyone else as Steve and Lucas cheered about something or other.
.
Steve tossed Lucas the ball in the driveway. He bent himself at the knees and placed his hands on his thighs, breathing heavily.
“Alright, Sinclair. Hit me.” he smirked.
He and Lucas had been tossing the ball back and forth for close to an hour now, both excited to get this play right. Lucas dribbled the ball three times on the ground quickly before he set into motion.
Steve cut him off to the left, but Lucas swerved to the right so fast he nearly toppled himself over. Steve turned and jumped in front of him just in time to body slam him slightly. Not nearly as rough as he could’ve been, holding back because they were outside on concrete and Steve wasn’t going to be responsible for a concussion.
The ball rolled away into the grass, unnoticed while Steve gave Lucas a hand and pulled him up.
Lucas was taking heaving breaths, and for a scary moment Steve was worried he’d slammed him too hard and knocked his lungs around. It’s possible. That’s why Steve himself had an inhaler in the drawer closest to his bed.
But then Lucas was laughing, and soon Steve was to.
“Dude! How’d you do that? I’ve never seen anyone move like that man!” Lucas praised over his heavy breathing. Steve chuckled and took his own deep breaths.
He clapped Lucas on the shoulder, grabbed the ball, and steered him towards the porch. “Plant your feet next time.” He felt a ping of anger and sadness at the words, but tramped it down.
It was only when he’d reached the porch with Lucas that Steve realized they were alone outside. Had everyone gone inside? Did sports seriously bore them so much that they just up and left? The thought made something bitter churn in Steve’s gut.
Whatever.
He led Lucas through the door and dropped the basketball on the porch by the door. It was muddy and his floors were going to remain white for as long as possible thank you very much.
They both left their shoes by the door and traveled to the kitchen, Lucas talking about how fast he’d ducked and wanting to know what Steve meant by planting his feet. Steve agreed to another playing session the next day with a grin. It was nice to have someone who enjoyed what he did.
He tossed Lucas a bottle of water from the fridge and made sure the kid drank it all. They sat with each other at the counter for a minute, Steve idly sipping his water and listening to Lucas’ still heavy breaths.
“Damn, I still can’t catch my breath man.” Lucas laughed lightly.
Steve smiled and set his water down.
“Wait here, don’t do anything stupid.”
Lucas gave him a two finger salute as he walked off upstairs. Steve was sure to avoid the living room and was quick to grab the aforementioned inhaler from his drawer. He jogged back into the kitchen and sat next to Lucas one more.
“Ok, so I’m assuming you know what an inhaler is.”
Lucas nodded, staring at the inhaler in Steve’s hand oddly.
“I don’t have asthma,” Lucas said matter-of-factly.
Steve chuckled. “And neither do I. But there are times where you get knocked around too much or too hard, and it can rattle your lungs. I found that out the hard way when I was 14 and had my first asthma attack. My lungs had rattled so much they got trapped between my ribs and my mom had to take me to the hospital.”
Lucas winced. “Seriously? How the hell did you manage that?”
My dad got a little too rough, Steve thought. But decided against saying that, obviously. He smiled and shook his head. “Not important.”
Steve uncapped the inhaler and gave it a good shake. “Ok, I’m assuming you know at least a little about using one of these but one things for sure, you’ve gotta fix your posture.”
Lucas immediately straightened his back.
Steve went on explaining about how curling into yourself like that basically compressed your lungs and made breathing harder.
He held the inhaler to Lucas’ mouth and instructed him to breathe in and hold it for as long as he felt he could before releasing slowly.
Lucas did as instructed, and after no more than two puffs Steve instructed him to simply keep his back straight and take deep breaths through his nose and to release slowly through his mouth.
Lucas left on his bike a few minutes later with a few snacks and an extra bottle of water in his bag. Steve told him to talk to his parents about getting him a medical inhaler if he planned to stick out basketball for all of high school. Steve knew how aggressive those kids could be, and while it wasn’t always necessary it was helpful.
When he closed the door behind Lucas he went straight to the living room.
Where apparently everyone had relocated.
“Uh.. hey?” Steve waved pathetically. He had really no idea what to do with the 5 pairs of eyes on him.
“Ok? Um— seriously why are you all looking at me like that? It’s fucking freaky.” Steve curled in on himself a little, folding his arms and hunching his shoulders.
Robin was the first to shoot out of her seat on the couch. Steve was given no warning before he was engulfed in a hug.
“Oh? Ok—“ He wrapped his arms around her tightly. “What happened, Robs? You alright?” he asked from where his face was tucked into her neck.
She nodded, but it was obvious something was wrong.
When Robin let go she dragged Steve by the wrist to the couch and sat with him. He looked at everyone else settled in the living room and raised an eyebrow.
“This isn’t like— an intervention or something, right?” he tried to joke. Argyle seemed to find it funny at least. Steve smiled at him where he sat on the floor by the coffee table.
Then there was an arm wrapping around his waist from the side Robin wasn’t pressed against and Steve wasted no time leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“What’s up with you guys, huh? You’re quiet and it’s scary. I don’t like it.” Steve muttered the last part under his breath and more to himself. But Eddie squeezed his hip reassuringly.
“Nothing’s up, baby. How was everything with Lucas?” Eddie asked. Steve barely gave himself time to pause before he answered, “Good. He’s been moving a lot faster lately.”
He bit his tongue against the slew of words he wanted to spill about everything they’d done in that hour they’d been outside. Instead he said,
“Sorry. Totally ditched you guys for the ball.” He chuckled, trying to take the weight of the words off some. Eddie tutted.
“Don’t apologize, Steve. You looked like you having fun.” Came Nancy’s unexpected reply. Steve’s head shot up to look at her before traveling back to Argyle, who gave him a vague “go on” gesture with his hand.
“Uh..” He pulled his eyes back to Nancy. “Yeah, had a lot of fun. Um— you guys alright?”
Jonathan groaned and Steve watched Nancy hit him on the arm. They had a whole argument with their eyes before Nancy deflated. What the hell?
“Steve.” Jonathan started. Steve flinched slightly and didn’t relax when Eddie squeezed his hip.
He braced himself for the laughs, the jeers. Them telling him they didn’t care that he had fun and that they had to go.
“We’re sorry.”
Steve blinked. You’d think an apology that sounded so heartfelt would lower his inner walls a bit, but it only served to raise them higher. Because—
“What the fuck? Why?”
Jonathan rubbed the back of his head and let Nancy take the lead this time.
“For brushing you off.”
Steve blinked, his inner walls no longer rising but not lowering either.
“For not showing that we cared whenever you started talking about your sports and things.” Was Robin’s add-on from beside him.
Steve flinched and made to get up but remembered he was kind of held down by both Robin and Eddie.
“So this is an intervention? Guys it’s fine, seriously—“
“No. It’s not. Stop talking for a second and let us be sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie’s grip tightened again and Steve tried to find comfort in it like he normally did, but he was so uncomfortable right now it was unbelievable.
He doesn’t think he’s ever been apologized to. Not like this. Not with such sincerity.
It scared him, honestly.
“We’re sorry we didn’t bother trying to show interest in anything you did even though you always made sure to show interest in ours,” was how Eddie finished.
“Even with all the teasing you add in.” Chuckled Jonathan.
Steve found a bit of the comfort he was searching for.
He cleared his throat. “Um ok— so—“
“Not done.” Demanded Nancy.
Steve shut up.
“We’re sorry that we made fun of your interests and maybe made you feel like you couldn’t share your thoughts and feelings with us in fear of getting ridiculed.”
And good God if that wasn’t right on the money.
Steve swallowed against the tears that threatened to mist over his vision.
He laughed quietly instead. And maybe he looked like he was going insane but Jesus Christ— he couldn’t take this right now. He was not expecting a fucking apology after an hour of playing basketball.
What the fuck has his life turned into?
“Ok— done now?” he asked. And when nobody spoke up against him he continued.
“So um— thanks? For the apology? I guess— I guess I just don’t understand. Why are you guys apologizing when you didn’t do anything wrong?”
That got him a chorus of groans that made him curl into himself more. He hung his head and pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer, a nervous habit he’d developed in middle school.
“Steve.” Robin gently said. “We have every reason to apologize and fucking grovel.”
Steve wasn’t given a single moment to protest.
“Sweetheart, what did you do yesterday when I was talking about my campaign?”
Steve looked at Eddie funny. “Dude I don’t know— I think you started talking about it while I was cooking?”
Eddie nodded. “And then you told me to hold on while you put the lasagna in the oven so you could give me your full attention.”
Steve blinked dumbly, not quite getting it.
“That’s the bare minimum, Ed. You were talking about something you really liked so I made sure you knew I was listening.”
And oh wow. It just dawned on him.
“Exactly, honey. None of us— except Argyle, apparently— have been giving you the attention you deserve even though you give us yours no matter what.”
“Steve you listened to me drone about types of cameras and film last week for three hours and didn’t complain once. I know for a fact that shit was boring to listen to because I’ve been told so by both Will and El numerous times.”
Steve stared at Jonathan.
“Ok, sure. But I don’t see— I don’t get— I don’t care that you guys don’t listen to me. Sports are complicated and yeah sure it kind of hurts when you scoff as if it doesn’t mean shit—“
Eddie’s grip tightened considerably.
“—but it— I get it. You guys aren’t obligated to listen to my shit. I listen to you guys because I want to. Because I like hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about. Like Nancy and that new article for the school paper about the different recipe for the meatloaf that makes it taste like dirt, apparently. Or how Polaroid cameras actually date all the way back to like— 1948. Or—“
“But that’s the thing, Steve.” Nancy cut him off. “You listen to these things and remember them because you want to. Because you’re a good friend and good friends listen. We—“ he waved her hand around to all of them “—have not been good friends.”
Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat while Nancy continued.
“The fact that you remember my exact words of calling the meatloaf dirt just proves that. Because we had that conversation, what? A month ago?”
“Three weeks ago.” Me mumbled uselessly.
Nancy sighed.
Robin sat up and took Steve’s face in her hands. “Stevie. We love you. So let us.”
And just like that, Steve was engulfed in a giant group hug.
He didn’t realize how much it’d affected him before now. How being scoffed at and made fun of— even if it was playful— hurt him so much that he’d just stopped talking about things.
When they pulled away Eddie kissed his forehead and Robin kissed his cheek. Steve giggled at the sudden affection.
Bonus:
The very next day, Steve saw the change.
Saw the change in how Eddie made sure to ask him about what he was cooking and then let Steve explain the process of a breakfast casserole. How Eddie simply smiled and even engaged with questions as if he was really interested. And maybe Steve didn’t completely believe he was interested, but that was ok. He’d come to his senses eventually.
Then at work Robin made a point to let him choose what they put on the TV for the day and didn’t even complain when he chose the Breakfast Club.
He was scared that they change would last no more than a week. That after some time they’d all go right back to how it was before.
But then a week passed. And two. And three. And then months we’re going by where Steve was allowed to rant and talk and argue about things like cooking and baking and basketball and soccer and volleyball and so much more because they would listen.
And then a year passed and it was April and it was his birthday and when he was surrounded by everyone— the kids, the older teens, even the adults— he opened a present and looked down at the book in his lap.
“Forever Amber”.
Steve will never admit to the tears that he cried that day.
Probably gonna do something like this with Lucas and the kids cause I love Lucas ❤️
Here’s that lol:
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Slow Horses 4x02 (p1)
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abhainnwhump · 9 months
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Whumper, ripping off the last page of their calendar and tossing it to Whumpee's feet: That's another year, darling. And not a single person has found you. Give up, because your friends already did.
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the-bloody-sadist · 9 months
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Figured I’d never finish this so you guys can have Nikolai bathing with the dead 🚶‍♂️MERRY CHRISTMAS IG??
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cargopantsprentiss · 4 months
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Too close
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whump-galaxy · 3 months
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The Villain finds their Sidekick in an awful state. Half dead, breathing shallower and shallower breaths. They cradle their Sidekick, terrified of attempting to seek medical treatment. What if the authorities don’t treat Sidekick’s injuries? What if they just arrest the both of them? What if they leave the Sidekick to die?
They nearly jump out of their skin at the hand on their shoulder. It’s the Hero’s Sidekick. Having witnessed what the Hero did, they abandoned their team.
Now they want to help.
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hotluncheddie · 1 year
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having autistic high masking steve thoughts..
steve harrington who’s black and white is these are the rules and you follow them. you turn up at school, you show your face at dinner, you do your hair and brush your teeth and speak when your spoken to. steve harrington who doesn’t want to be alone at lunch, knows that making friends in important because it’s the only thing his mother asked him after his first day, and he wants to be able to say ‘yes’ if she ever asks again. steve who loves to swim but hates how the shower water beats on his skin after, how the shampoo always get all over his face and he’s never given time to wipe it off in the right way, can’t seem to say how it makes him want to scream. all he knows he can’t scream because that’s ‘bad behaviour steven’ and then he won’t be able to swim. so he swallows it, he detaches, he only half exists in the shower and he feels a mass of dark smoke churn in his chest.
steve harrington who heard what the other kids said, how they spoke about the older kids, how people spoke on the tv. learned that when he grew up that he’d need to talk to girls like he wanted to date them, kiss them. talk to guys like he enjoyed hearing about their weekends, even if they were mean and annoying. even is he didn’t care and noticed how they never asked about him. but you’re not allowed to say that; your annoying, i don’t care, you make me feel bad. you have to listen and smile and fit in and be liked. not matter what.
steve harrington who’s smart and sensible and is good at recognising patterns. who knows how to survive, no matter how uncomfortable he is. no matter how tired he is by the evening, mind blasting static, no room do anything other than lay there. he doesn’t really know what he likes because he has no energy to do anything, anything other than going to school and go on dates. he got good at hiding how reading takes so long and writing never comes out in the right order first time. how so often he feels like his skin needs to just come off. how that scream is still sitting at the base of his throat.
he dreams of running away, to hide and just, be quiet. everything just need to be quiet and dark, for a little bit. for a while. but it can’t be, because he has to show his face, has to do his hair.
and then monsters exist. and steve survives, because he has to, because he can. he knows his role in the story, so he fights and he cares and he protects and he keeps talking to girls and he keeps brushing his teeth and when he gets beaten up it hurts, it’s uncomfortable, but what’s more discomfort when every day is uncomfortable. he’s always been uncomfortable but how can he ever not be, he has to follow the rules.
hurt/comfort pt2 & snippet pt3
ao3
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whumperofworlds · 4 months
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Whumper: It is pride month, Whumpee. You know what that means?
Whumpee: Huh.
Whumpee: What.
Whumpee: Do you want to like.
Whumpee: Torture me gayly.
Whumpee: What.
Whumper: ...
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Prompt 75
After being yelled at on the mountain, Jaskier stumbles and tumbles his way down the perilous path down, all the while being half-blinded by his own tears. He makes it to town and decides to wait. Geralt will realize it was all a mistake and come to find him and apologize. It'll take a few days, but Jaskier can wait. He'll play for some coin, and buy himself something nice to distract himself from the heartbreak. It's been four days. Jaskier has a room at an inn, two beds, in case Geralt doesn't want to sleep in the same bed with him like they used to. Jaskier plays every night. Everyone keeps requesting his songs about Geralt, but he redirects them easily enough. The only problem is he ran out of non-Geralt songs after the second day. Even ones that don't mention him, Jaskier can't bring himself to play, because he knows that he wrote them about Geralt. It's been a week. Jaskier has his room at the same inn. He still plays for coin, but he's been forced to play his songs about Geralt, as nobody wants to hear the same songs for a week straight, so he had to diversify. Jaskier is worried Geralt might've gotten hurt. Hopefully with his witcher healing, he'll be here in no time. It's been two weeks. Jaskier has his room at the inn. He's decided to take a break from playing for a bit, lest he get boring for the crowds. He's begun really exploring the town, and he's even met one of his frequent listeners out in town, got his name - Pietr - And was introduced to his wife as "The song guy". It was nice hearing compliments about his work from them both, even if it did remind him of the nights Geralt would talk in-depth about Jaskier's songcycles with him. He misses those nights. He hopes Geralt heals up from whatever injury he must've gotten and gets here soon so they can continue having those. It's been two months. Jaskier has changed to a one-bed room. Geralt is taking forever, he can deal with sharing a bed with Jaskier when he gets here. Jaskier plays every few nights, he has regular listeners now. He's tried writing new songs, but every time he puts quill to parchment, he starts crying. Really wish he'd stop doing that. It's been four months. Jaskier has changed his room again, now in a room with a single small bed, just for one person. It'd be physically impossible to even attempt sharing it with Geralt, unless they laid on top of each other, and even then, Geralt's feet would poke out. Jaskier can only assume Geralt went after Yennefer before him. As always. Jaskier isn't sure why it came as a surprise when he first figured it out. Or why it still hurt enough to make him bawl into a glass of alcohol. He should've known from the beginning. At least he'll be next, he thinks moments before passing out drunk. It's been six months. Jaskier is beginning to worry Geralt may have died. Surely he would've come by now. Jaskier's head still whips around to look at the door every time it opens. He still peeks into every stable and prays he'll see Roach. He still asks the blacksmith if he's done any work with swords recently. One especially mortifying moment was the time he asked a brothel if they had seen Geralt's description, only for the women to all tut sadly and tell him that if he had to look at brothels to try and find his missing husband, he must've not been good enough for Jaskier to begin with. Jaskier leaves without even clearing up the misconception, because it was still a no. Geralt was still not here.
It's been eight months. Jaskier has the same room, but has begun to dwindle in popularity. At least in the "giving money to" department. He thought he could at least expect Pietr, but he ran into him in the market the other day and Pietr had no idea who he was. Jaskier must really be that forgettable, despite all his attempts his whole life to not be. Jaskier must've just overexaggerated what he meant to someone again. Jaskier has scaled the mountain again, all by himself. Either he finds signs of Geralt, dead or alive, or he dies in some rockslide accident and nobody misses him. He finds no signs of Geralt, however. Not a thing. Geralt left the mountain, that was for sure. Jaskier sat on the very same rock, and cried thinking of the very same coast, but this time he was alone. It's been ten months. Jaskier spends his days and nights either drinking or crying. He's only written one new song, one about someone's love dying before they ever get to tell them how they feel. He's never sung it, though. For a performance or in private. He's stopped playing altogether. He has no idea what to do with the rest of his life. As sad and pitiful and pathetic as he thinks himself when he says it, his life was Geralt. Following him for twenty years, writing songs about him, spreading word about him, making a name for himself as "The White Wolf's bard." It's been a year. Jaskier bought himself a small hovel in the village. He'd been there far too long to keep using the inn. He has a small flower garden. He spends most of his time tending it. Jaskier heard a villager say their penpal's village was recently saved by the White Wolf himself, and Jaskier freezes, standing still and gaping at the two women chatting. They begin to realize Jaskier's eavesdropping and move to talk inside their home. Oh. So Geralt lived. He just truly didn't come for Jaskier. Jaskier throws the last song he wrote for Geralt into the fire. Geralt isn't dead. But Geralt probably wishes Jaskier was. Jaskier stays inside his home long enough for his garden to get overrun with weeds and pests. He only leaves his home when one day, there's incessant knocking on his door. He opens it to find Yennefer. Great. She grabs his arm, summons a portal behind her, and shOVES him in. She sits him down in a chair in a kitchen, comments on how terrible he looks, and then leaves upstairs. After a few moments, Yennefer drags Geralt in, even though Geralt is clearly trying his best not to enter the room. Lovely. As if Jaskier didn't already feel like the bane of Geralt's existence. Yennefer finally sits Geralt down, and explains to them that it was just as she thought. They were bespelled. Geralt has been having lapses of memory and odd sudden urges for about a year now. He'd forget people he spoke to, towns he'd go in, and suddenly go off his routes or paths with intense need to go on a detour he could never talk himself out of. Geralt can hardly listen to her, he's just stuck staring at Jaskier with awe. Jaskier's alive. Jaskier's alive. Ever since the mountain, Geralt has been visiting the towns around the mountain, praying to find his bard again, only for everybody in the towns to not have seen anyone meeting his description. It was only two months in that he combed the entire mountain, both hoping and dreading to find Jaskier's body. He found nothing. No signs of his bard. And with nobody ever seeing him enter the village, it's almost as if he just... disappeared. Yennefer explains that anytime Geralt asked someone of Jaskier, the person would forget everything they knew about him. Any time Geralt almost made contact with Jaskier, his mind would suddenly tug him into a new direction. it seems to have been born into existence the day they had their fight on the mountain. Specifically when Geralt asked for life to take Jaskier off his hands.
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idyllicwillowtree · 7 months
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God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me. (part 2)
Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers
Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, swearing, angy Eddie, hospital
Author’s note: Thank you so much for the positive comments on part 1! I was feeling insecure about this fic so that was very nice y'all are so sweet <3
Enjoy!
Main Masterlist
Part 1
Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.
“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.
Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.
“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.” 
All the Hellfire members whipped their heads toward you, witnessing an angry rash spreading across your skin and your breathing becoming audible as you tried to suck in as much oxygen as possible.
Eddie’s heart clenched painfully as he looked down at you, remembering the severity of your allergy after Dustin explained it to him one time. Still, Eddie was taken aback by the speed at which your symptoms were progressing.
You reached a hand out to Eddie as the choked coughs took over. He ignored your hand in favor of catching your body before it hit the ground. With trembling limbs he carefully lowered you to the grimy tile of the cafeteria floor.
“Fuck,” Eddie cursed, “Dustin! What do we do?!”
Dustin had froze. Panic set in as he watched his older sister struggle more and more to take in a full breath. A small crowd began to gather and the excited chatter of the cafeteria simmered into hushed whispers and gasps. Everyone was watching, and not in the way Eddie was used to.
“Henderson!” Eddie snapped. 
At that, Dustin went to work. “Mike, go call 911! Lucus, see if the nurse has an epipen. GO!” The sheep dispersed. Dustin picked up your bag with trembling hands and began digging through your books and school supplies, searching for the epinephrine injector he swears you kept in there.
Eddie turned his attention back to you, trusting that Dustin had the rest handled. At the look of panic in your blotchy and swollen face he almost froze too. A chilling dread spread through his veins as you began clawing at your throat, doing everything you could to open your airways. 
“Hey, hey, hey, look at me princess. You’re gonna be alright, gonna be just fine, you hear me? D-Dustin will getchu your meds and you’ll be good to go,” Eddie rambled, trying to convince himself just as much. He gently cradled your warm face and stroked your hair to try and soothe you.
With every second passing you became closer and closer to death. Eddie looked up in desperation. His red-headed neighbor (Max, he thinks her name is) snatched the backpack out of a distraught Dustin’s hands and turned it upside down, emptying its contents. Robin was there too and put a comforting arm around your brother while Max took over the search for the injector. Eddie was vaguely aware of a teacher trying to pry him off of you but he’d risk getting expelled for shoving a teacher if it meant staying by your side. 
“Got it!” Max exclaimed, holding the orange and clear tube triumphantly. She slid to her knees on your otherside, not hesitating to jam the needle into your leg and holding it there.
Eddie flinched at the force it took to inject you. You took your first full breath, allowing him to take one as well. Your eyes were drooping slightly as the medicine was introduced into your system.
“Hey, there she is,” Eddie said gently.
Your tired eyes met his and he could’ve sworn the corners of your lips twitched upwards.
The paramedics arrived and Eddie hesitantly let you go so they could treat you. It was a blur of navy blue and red as they hooked you up to numerous tubes and slid an oxygen mask over your head. 
You became slightly more alert at the sight of strangers surrounding you as the stretcher clicked into place, raising you a couple feet off the ground. You moved your head tiredly trying to catch sight of anyone you knew. Anyone to comfort you.
“Dustin, go with her,” Eddie told the curly haired boy. He looked up at him with wet eyes that clenched at Eddie’s heart. “She needs you, go on.”
Eddie watched the determination emerge on the freshman’s face as he walked through the paramedics declaring that he was your brother, allowing him to be by your side. 
Swallowing thickly past the dryness in his mouth, Eddie watched you get rolled out on the stretcher. 
He turned numbly to see that Lucas and Mike had returned and started digging through your lunch, in an attempt to find out what it was that could’ve caused your reaction. As the two predictably began to bicker, Eddie grabbed the cup of applesauce and slowly brought the spoon out. To his horror, he scooped out a few small round nuts mixed with the smooth texture of the applesauce. 
His darkened eyes snapped up, immediately finding Jason. He at least had the decency to look scared, his skin white as a sheet. True terror shining through as he came to realize the severity of what he did. He shook his head slightly, pleading with Eddie. For what, he wasn’t sure. But he could give a shit.
The grip on the applesauce tightened, causing it to tremble, before he launched it in Jason's general direction. A fire of rage lit up Eddie's entire being, consuming any reason or restraint within him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You could’ve killed her!!” Eddie roared, the words ripping from his throat like a thunderclap.  Every fiber in his being screamed for justice, determined to ensure that no harm would ever come to you again. 
“I-I-I didn’t think…I didn’t mean to-” Jason blubbered.
“Not good enough!” Eddie snapped. He charged forward, driven by the need to avenge your pain. Just when he was closing the distance between them a thick arm wrapped around his upper body. “LET ME GO!”
Eddie struggled against the firm grip that held him back from doing to Jason what he should've done a long time ago. If Eddie was strong enough, he could've saved you, stopped all of this bullying in its tracks before Jason had ever even looked in your direction. His strength never came from muscles or brute force, but from his anger—the primal need to protect those he loved. He was so consumed by his rage that a red haze blurred his vision. Or were those his tears?
“Eddie, man, don’t do this,” Doug said, doing his best to calm his friend.
“Please,” Eddie pleaded, losing some of his fight. “Just let me go.” 
“Dude, if you get into a fight you won’t be able to see Y/N in the hospital,” the bassist whispered in Eddie’s ear. He looked over and saw Principle Coleman closing in on them, there wasn’t much time left. “We can handle it, just go while you can.”
A wave of overwhelming frustration washed over Eddie as the struggle against Doug’s hold diminished. Tears welled up in his eyes as his chest released his rage and tightened back up with helplessness and despair.
He didn’t let it consume him though, taking off in the opposite direction of the principle, his sheep following close behind.
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When the van ripped into the hospital parking lot, Eddie finally took notice of how many stowaways he had. Lucas, Mike, Max, Robin, and even Nancy all burst through the double doors at the back of his skunky smelling van and made their way to the emergency room entrance.
Eddie was the first one through the doors, eyes scanning the waiting area for his curly haired friend. What he wasn’t expecting to see was the one and only King Steve sitting with the boy. 
Steve noticed them first, taking the lead on letting them know what’s going on. He explained that you’d be fine but the doctors are running some tests and getting you hooked up to the necessary machines. It’ll be a little longer before Eddie gets to see you with his own eyes.
Eddie turned on his heel and walked through the doors he just came through as Steve explained that your mom was called but was on a trip with her girlfriends and won’t be able to make it back until tomorrow.
The disinfected smell of the hospital only offered to heighten Eddie’s desire for a cigarette. He finds solace in the only coping mechanism he has under his belt, even if he knew it was bad for him in the long run. The stress of the day weighed heavily on him as he leaned on the brick wall of the hospital outside. The familiar routine of lighting up offered a good distraction, the only way to momentarily ease his anxiety.
That was until your brother found him. He silently stood next to him, not feeling the need to fill the silence with anything but the gentle breeze and the birds chirping in the distance. But it made Eddie feel uneasy.
“I’d offer you a smoke, but I don’t want to corrupt you more than I already have,” Eddie said with a sad laugh.
Ignoring Eddie’s comment, Dustin asked, “you remember that one time when Hellfire came over to my house for a session? When the theater kids needed the drama room at school?”
Eddie nodded his head slowly, releasing the smoke from his lungs as he did so.
“I was still in middle school so I had only heard about you from Y/N. She had this weird way of speaking about you. It was in a way I had never heard her speak about anyone before.”
Eddie’s heart punched against his ribs painfully, his insecurities taking over.
“She was nice enough to let me watch your campaign so I could get ideas for the campaign I was doing with Mike and Lucas, and our other friend Will. I think she regretted it because of the Reese's Pieces incident.”
Eddie couldn’t help but start chuckling embarrassingly at the memory. “God, that was so stupid,” he smacked his forehead in an attempt to stop his mind from reliving one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. 
-
The Hellfire members flooded into your home, bringing chips, candy, and drinks to share. Your first time hosting the club was going great, until Dustin noticed the bag of Reese’s Pieces in Eddie’s hand.
“My sister is too nice to say anything but-” Dustin started.
“Stop, Dustin-”
“-we can’t have those in the house.”
Eddie’s eyebrows pinched beneath his bangs, “what? Why not?”
“She’s allergic to peanuts.”
Before you could roll your eyes at your little brother and reassure him it was fine, Eddie turned and chucked the bag out your kitchen’s open window leaving you standing there in shock and Eddie horrified by his own impulse.
-
“I think that’s when she fell in love with you.”
Eddie’s head whipped over to Dustin. The kid had the audacity to look smug after completely shattering his world view. His mind spun with the revelation.
Love, a word so potent, was now intertwined with his thoughts of your relationship. Eddie knew he liked you, a lot, but his brain never brought him to love. He replayed moments from your friendship in his head, searching for the signs, trying to decipher if Dustin was telling the truth. If the sentiment was truly real. A mix of surprise and uncertainty overwhelmed him, but there was also something warm and hopeful there. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.
He needed to see you and hear it from you directly. A million thoughts and memories raced through his mind, but one thing was clear–he needed to be with you, to tell you how he felt.
part 3
tags: @beeblisss @fishwithtitz @leah-loves-lilies
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snakebites-and-ink · 1 year
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I've seen multiple awesome writers worried that people aren't going to like one of their series because it's "not real whump" or some similar sentiment, so I feel compelled to say this.
Some people prefer physical whump
Some people prefer emotional whump
Some people prefer psychological/mental whump
Some people like recovery arcs
Some people like fluff and comfort after the whump
Some people like whump that focuses more on angst
Some people like plot-heavy whump
Some people like worldbuilding-heavy whump
Also, the more niche a piece of writing is, the more happy the people who enjoy that niche will be to find something that fits it
Basically you can write whatever you want and there will be an audience somewhere who loves it.
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