#some hurt comfort

[honeygrahambitch]

Hear me out, yes, we deserve to have feverish Will Graham needy for affection cause his parents have never been good at the "physical affection" part but feverish Hannibal is needy for affection as well, even worse than when he is sober.

I imagine Will being like:

"I will bring you some tea"

"Will..."

"Oh, it's time for your meds, I will bring them to you."

"Will... honey..."

"Need another blanket? I will get one."

"I need you to stay here."

"I am here."

"Here." And then he makes some space for Will to cuddle him.

[julemmaes]

Mattress Attack

this is set in the same universe as made you breakfast so it's just a random scene where the house of wind gang all live in the same apartment and cassian is a simp for nesta

Cassian came home to utter chaos that night.

Gwyn was screeching in the bathroom, crying out that she couldn't find any gauze in the mess their cabinets were.

Emerie was screaming over her, telling her to just fucking hurry before she bled to death.

He couldn't hear Nesta, but her trench coat on the hangers told him she was home, too.

He closed the door behind him, slowly, not sure whether to let his presence be known or turn around and go back outside.

It was only a few moments later that Emerie's words caught up with him.

Bleed to death?

"Girls!?" He called out, moving down the corridor.

Gwyn's head popped out of the bathroom and she sighed, her eyes watery as her shoulders sagged in relief, "I've never been so happy to see you."

He reached her quickly, his concern was through the roof as he asked, "What happened?"

His roommate grimaced as Emerie screamed at her to move her ass and Gwyn quickly went back to the task at hand.

"Nesta stabbed herself."

Cassian blinked, not sure he'd her correctly.

"What?"

"Nesta. She stabbed herself with-"

Emerie forcibly pushed him aside and ran into the bathroom. She opened one of the cabinets and took out a package of gauze, shaking it in front of them.

As one, they went striding back to Nesta's bedroom and Cassian noticed only then the trail of blood drops on the floor.

His lungs seized.

"What happened?"

It was then that he saw her, Nesta. She was laying on the floor, her head turned towards the door and away from her open hand and... the pair of scissors sticking out from her palm.

What the—

"Fuck." He breathed out, moving his eyes to her pale pale face. Nesta smiled weakly, her eyes pinched in pain. "How?"

Before anyone could reply, Nesta snorted, and with a half lidded glance, said, "The mattress attacked me."

He was even more confused than before. His heart racing out of his chest with worry.

"And if you'd just fucking waited for me as I'd asked you to, you wouldn't be in this position right now." Emerie retorted with anger in her tone.

Cassian's surprise spiked a few notches, adding to the storm of emotions he was feeling right now. He rarely saw the girls pissed at each other. But he needed to focus on what was going on here.

"Did you call an ambulance yet?" He asked.

"Shit," Gwyn whined, turning a concerning shade of green. "I can't stand the smell of blood."

Emerie was cautiously tending to Nesta's wound, but her tone was pleading when she said, "Go to the kitchen and sniff some lemon, please. I can't hear you vomit or I'll die."

Cassian almost laughed at their dramatics and he dropped to his knees next to Nesta, taking Gwyn's spot. He was so close that his thigh brushed her naked arm.

As Gwyn left the room and Emerie got up to get her phone, he ran a hand down Nesta's shoulder.

She was already looking up at him, focusing hard on breathing. In through her nose, out from her mouth. Her perfect, rosy, lovable lips parted with the effort of not crying.

He focused on her eyes, moving a strand of hair from her face. "Care to explain what do you mean by the mattress attacked me?"

Nesta chuckled and winced immediately after.

"Fuck it hurts."

Without looking at her hand, he nodded, feeling bad for his friend. "Who would've guessed having scissors in your palm would hurt."

"Not the right time, smartass."

He pointedly looked at her, his eyebrow rising.

She drew a deep breath, "I bought a new mattress and couldn't get the plastic off. I didn't really think the thing would spring open like a fucking clown-box and I fell pretty badly on the scissors."

He tried hard not to laugh in her face at the imagery his brain conjured. Nesta being smacked in the face by a bed and getting flown across the room was the funniest shit he'd thought of in a long time. He was just sorry it ended this way.

"Can you still move your fingers?"

"Yep," she popped her p. "According to Emerie, no nerve was hit and I'm a lucky bitch."

She suddenly closed her eyes and her head lolled to the side, but from the way she groaned she still seemed conscious.

Cassian frowned, "You feeling faint? Did you hit your head too?"

Nesta shook her head no, "I just need to get this over with."

He went to twine their fingers together, looking to soothe her somehow, but that's when Emerie entered the bedroom again. Thinking Nesta didn't want their friend to see them holding hands, Cassian almost slipped away, but Nesta clutched his fingers in a strong hold and took a shaky breath.

He felt his heart in his throat.

Squeezing gently, he let her know he wasn't going anywhere and he patiently waited with her on her floor, her quasi-murderer new mattress only meters away from them and already stained with blood.

It didn't take long for the ambulance to show up and throughout the entire process, the paramedics worked around him. Cassian never parted from Nesta, holding onto dear life while she got stitched up.

Progress, he thought. Stupid ass progress, but still something.

[wiispywitch]

" A Late-Night Visit "

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Summary: While Pro-Heroes are often admired by the public eye and are always in the spotlight, others would prefer to continue helping save lives whilst also living a life of privacy. It’s a rarity that Pros get to have a sense of normalcy in the Superhero Society, but when they do every moment is cherished.

Word count: 3,608

Characters: OC {Kiko Suzuki}, Shōta Aizawa

Warnings: Minor mention of injury

Divider cred: anitalenia

Author's note: This was one of the first ever ideas I had when coming with up with my own hero OC. It's mostly just meant to be fluff 🧡

The city of Musutafu was illuminated under the beautiful night sky. It was a full moon tonight, now a single cloud blocking the light. Usually villain activity would be more prominent at this late hour, but thankfully tonight all was fairly quiet and peaceful, which was considered quite a rarity ever since Quirks had manifested and evolved throughout the years. 

Sleeping peacefully in her bed, snuggling with three out of her nine cats (now twelve since one of her cats had a litter of kittens), lay a young woman who herself bore striking physical attributes to that of a calico cat. Although she looked more human, she had large cat ears—black on the right and white with black and orange tips on the right—long nails that she kept neat and sharp, a small black nose, black stripes on her cheeks, and a long, fluffy white tail with patterns of orange and black. Besides her cat-like looks, she did also have some personality traits of a cat: She was able to purr when she was happy or relaxed, could jump at large heights and climb up certain surfaces, her hearing and sense of smell were sensitive, you could tell how she was feeling by the movement of her ears and tails, and she had a terrible habit of mindlessly scratching the furniture (much to the frustration of her husband when she scratched the couches when she spaced out). 

As a child, she had attended U.A to hone her Feline-Quirk, learning many new skills and how she can use it to benefit society, and had become the famous Pro-Hero Kalica, ranking at thirty-ninth place on the Hero Billboard Chart of Japan. She was admired due to her love and adoration for children and animals, especially cats, and was praised for her incredible deeds as a hero: Her biggest accomplishment was helping save many citizens from a derailed train where she had almost risked her life going back to save a trapped child just before the train finally collapsed—thankfully, there were no casualties as a result of the accident. Yet as praised as Kalica was for her heroic duties, she was also often criticized by the public for having firm boundaries with her fans, due to past instances when several people thought it upon themselves to touch her ears and tail without her permission, thus angering her. Some thought she was cold and snobbish, but when others got to know her they would find she was actually a warm and caring person who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.

It was past two A.M. She slept peacefully with her three cats, undisturbed by the sounds of purring or the feeling of some of her cats kneading on her soft blanket, whilst some of the cats in the living room were either minding their business or having late-night zoomies, something she had grown used to. She was so deep in her slumber that she didn’t hear the sound of the window to her bedroom opening. A man in all black had stepped inside, making sure to not make a sound and alert her. She was a sharp listener, but when she was in a good sleep it was nearly impossible to wake her.

One of the cats, an orange British-shorthair named Omelet, let out a soft meow as he raised his head quickly, then saw the figure and let out a low growl at the stranger. The man looked at the cat, who now had his ears folded back, and raised his finger to his lip.

“Shh!”

Omelet hissed.

The man paid no mind to the cat, then turned his attention to Kalica. He didn’t want to wake her. He reached his hand towards her, and gently grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled them closer to cover her exposed shoulder.

Then Kalica opened her eyes, and in almost a blink of an eye she flipped over and grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it.

“Ah, shit! Kiko, let go, let go!”

Kiko Suzuki. Her Quirk: Feline. She has the physical and personality traits similar to that of a cat! A lot of people don't know this, but she is also the wife of the Eraser Hero, Shōta Aizawa!

Kiko quickly released the grip she had on his wrist. “Shōta!” she exclaimed. “You startled me. Are you all right?”

Shōta sighed, shaking his head. “It’s fine,” he said. He examined where he had been grabbed. Her nails had left some indents in his skin, but not enough to draw blood.

Kiko could hear by the sound of his voice that he was tired and somewhat irritable. With his Quirk having to ensure that he couldn’t blink for a long amount of times, it was understandable that he would be on edge and tired often. He preferred to do his hero work in the night, and during the daytime he was a teacher at U.A. High School.

Kiko glanced at the clock as Shōta sat on the edge of the bed, in which Mocha, a York chocolate cat, stretched her body and let out a big yawn as she approached Shōta for him to pet her. 

“You’re home much earlier than usual,” Kiko murmured. “Did something happen?”

“No. I just…I thought I would drop in, see how you were holding up.” Shōta was avoiding her gaze as he took his yellow goggles off, revealing his tired black eyes.

Kiko glanced down, seeing if perhaps there was any injury that he was keeping from her. “Lift up your shirt.”

Shōta turned his head quickly. “Excuse me?”

“Lift up your shirt, I want to take a look.” Kiko removed the covers and approached him.

“Listen, I would rather not do anything with the cats on the bed,” Shōta muttered, leaning back.

Kiko lifted the back of his shirt very slightly, and noticed three long cuts on his lower black that seemed to go up his waist. “Uh-huh. Thought you could hide this from me, didn’t you, mister?” 

Shōta huffed. “Don’t get your tail in a twist, this wasn’t from a villain. I fell on a fence when I got thrown.”

“Doesn’t matter how you got it. I would rather you not try to hide any injury from me.” Kiko patted his back shoulder before she got up. Her long black evening gown fell along her legs as her tail swayed. “I’ll get the first-aid kit, don’t even think about going back out while I’m gone.”

“Well it’s not like I have a choice anyway.” Shōta looked down as Mocha had already made herself comfortable on his lap, taking in the shape of a loaf, and by the look of her eyes closing she was already falling asleep on him.

Kiko returned shortly with the first-aid kit in her hands, and sat back on the bed. Shōta lifted his shirt as she began to prepare some anti-disinfect. “Might I ask who this person, clearly not a villain, is?” 

Shōta couldn’t help but crack a smirk at the hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Just a big guy with a strong quirk burglarizing an apartment complex downtown. I mean, this guy was huge, his hands were so much bigger than his head.” He grunted as she started spraying the spray.

“Sorry,” Kiko said in a softer tone. “Then what happened?”

“I thought I had him down, but he caught me off guard and threw me. But I’m fine. He was arrested and no one was hurt.”

“Well it’s a good thing you were there to help, and you managed to come back in one piece like you promised.” After cleaning the wound, she helped bandage him, and he lowered his shirt back down. Kiko laid back against the bed frame as Chibi, a white ragdoll cat with a gray nose and ears, began walking towards her and kneading on the blanket as Kiko pet her. “How did the acceptance exams go? Did any students make a good impression?”

“It went as you’d expect.” Shōta began rubbing the back of his neck and moving it around to ease the tension. “We had a fairly good number of students to choose from.” 

There was a large number of students that applied for the acceptance exam to get into UA High School. Because U.A. was one of the most popular schools to train upcoming heroes, the standards were pretty high to see how their Quirks could benefit the hero society, and unfortunately to turn those away who didn't make the cut 

“So did you like these students this time?” Kiko tilted her head. Shōta could hear the smile on his face. “Were they much better than the ones you had last semester?”

“I wouldn’t say they were terrible.” He began to remove his silver scarf.

Kiko sighed and shook her head. “Well this sure was an interesting conversation.”

Shōta moved his head around, cracking the kinks out of his neck. Kiko scooted towards him and nuzzled against his back, purring as she wrapped her hands around him. Shōta exhaled as he touched her hand.

“You've been burying yourself in your work again,” she murmured. “It's been more quiet around here with you being out so much.”

“I have a job to do, Kiko. We talked about this.”

“I know. But…it gets lonely here when you're not home.”

Shōta sighed. “I know I've been distant lately. I apologize. I have high expectations for these kids, after last semester I was really disappointed with my last class. I don’t want them to think this is just some fun and games—” He grunted as Kiko gently pressed her fingers (making sure to not use her nails) to massage the knot out of his neck. She did give the best neck rubs.

“And I love that you care so much about your students that you want to protect them,” Kiko said. “But I just think you can be a little too hard on them sometimes.”

“I have to be, Kiko.”

“I know, I know. But it wouldn’t hurt to be nice to your students every one and a while.”

Shōta mockingly moved his head around. 

Shōta grunted when Kiko rubbed her thumb on the knot she felt. As Kiko kept massaging his back, she noticed that he seemed to be tensing up more, but the ache he felt was starting to slip away and make him feel relaxed. “Mm, you haven't been relaxing,” she stated.

“Yes, I have,” Shōta muttered.

“Carrying around that sleeping bag of yours doesn't count. You need actual rest, to sleep in a warm bed.” Kiko nuzzled against his shoulder blade softly. 

She nuzzled against his back and gently rested her head on his shoulder. Kiko had been worried about him pushing himself so much. There were many nights she had gone to bed alone, some nights she would wake up to see him next to her but more often she would wake up to an empty bed. He did have a point though: as admirable and glamorous being a hero seemed to be, it was still dangerous work that is often glorified.

“Are you going to be nice to your students this time, and not expel them like you did the last time?”

“Hey I stand by that decision,” Shōta said. “I have high expectations for my students. If they can't take what I teach seriously, I'm not wasting my time.”

“Shōta, you can't just expel a whole classroom in one semester. How is that fair to those kids?”

“I'm not here to train children who treat being a Pro like it's some joke.”

“Then that shouldn't be a problem.” Kiko sat back against the bedframe and grabbed the nail file on the bedside table. “Because I’m going to be stopping by to make sure you're being nice when I start teaching.”

Shōta stopped stretching his arms and froze for a moment, and quickly looked at her with his tired eyes widened in a scowl. “I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked.

Kiko stopped filing her nails. “What?” she asked, shrugging. “We've worked together on missions before, what's so different about teaching?”

“A lot, actually,” Shōta said. “It’s nothing like our past missions. Besides, I don't want the students to make a fuss when they find out about us.”

Kiko and Shōta were both very private people when it came to their personal lives. They shared a common hatred for the press, especially when they try to interrupt their moments of privacy. Shōta always managed to find a way to avoid them and it was almost impossible to get any shots of him, but with Kiko being a more active hero in the public eye, it could be quite a bother when they happened to be out to dinner or shopping like a normal couple. They both made a stern agreement that they would keep their professional life and private life completely separate from each other.

“I understand that, Shōta,” Kiko said, her arms crossed, “but I think it's about time I do my part in helping out the next generation of heroes.”

“You have, with your internship.”

“Yes, but I’ve done some thinking, and I would like a change of pace.” She set her nail file down when her nail was sharped just how she liked. “And I thought you would want to spend more time together, just like old times.” She looked at her husband with a hint of charm in her chartreuse eyes.

Shōta had his arms crossed as he heard her reasoning. He hated to admit it, but she was right; since they got married and the honeymoon phase faded out, they have been spending more time focused on their work and barely spent time at home together. Sure, there were evenings they had a nice dinner and spent some quality time together, but those nights were becoming more rare.

Shōta closed his eyes and exhaled.

“Is that not what you want?” Kiko asked him.

“It’s not that, Kiko. I’d like to spend more time together, really, but we made an agreement that we wouldn't combine our work with our personal lives.”

“I know, and I’ve slept on it and thought it through. You remember how well we worked together when we were out saving people, so why should this be any different?” Kiko stretched her arms up, now feeling fully awake. “And don’t you worry, I won’t be flaunting myself out in front of our students and will keep the PDA to a minimum.” She rested her hands on his shoulders and began gently pushing her palms against him. Shōta couldn’t help but chuckle and tried to hide it from her. “I think the only one we would have to worry about making a fuss about is Mic.”

“Oh, don’t even remind me.” 

Present Mic was the best man at their wedding. He was so eager to have been there to see his best friend get married (he had even cried tears of joy when they said their vows). He always liked to poke fun at his best friend now that he had finally found the one.

“So? What do you say? Are you on board with me becoming a teacher, or do you want to turn down the job offer?” 

Shōta glanced over his shoulder as she leaned closer, her eyes half-lidded as her eyebrows were lifted. He sighed as he rested his hand on top of hers. “It’s not like I can convince you not to otherwise, can I,” he said nonchalantly.

“That, you are right about.”

A smile had formed on Shōta’s face. “Okay, fine. You win this time.”

Kiko smiled, resting her head against his back shoulder as she purred. “I knew you’d see it my way.” 

He didn’t want to admit it there, but Shōta felt a sense of relief in getting a chance to be with his wife more, feeling at ease to be finally in her presence. “But we keep it professional.”

“Always.” Kiko’s black ear twitched when she heard a soft meow coming from the baby playpen. She smiled, noticing Shōta glancing over. Kiko gently tapped his shoulder as she sat up.

“Come here, there’s something I want to show you.” Kiko approached the playpen. She gingerly lifted the blanket she had placed on top where a fluffy cream-colored cat was laying on her side as four kittens huddled around her tummy, some of them nursing on her whilst some were kneading on the cat’s fur. “Crème-Brûlée had her babies.”

“Would you look at that.” Shōta squatted down to get a look at the kittens. They were so small and in different colors of orange, cream, and a white one. Kiko was very passionate about fostering cats and helping give them a good home. Crème-Brûlée was a cat Kiko was fostering that she had found wandering the streets, and because she was pregnant they decided to keep her at their home until they found a good home for her.

“You named them already?”

“I sure did.” Kiko started pointing at them as she stated the names. “That’s Mimi, Shoko, Kumquat, and Opal—”

“Kumquat?”

Kiko turned towards Shōta, who’s eyebrow was cocked as he gave her a funny look.

“Of all the names you could've picked for a kitten, you pick Kumquat?” Shōta shook his head as he laughed.

“I’d like to see you come up with something better.” Kiko put her hands on her hip as she leaned against the playpen.

“I know I could.”

“Okay, mister, give me a list. Go on.”

Shōta pondered, but his mind had blanked. “I can’t think of any right now, I’m tired. But when it comes to mind I will let you know.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” 

Crème-Brûlée meowed as she stretched her paws.

“Oh, big yawn.” Kiko looked down at the cat and let the cat sniffle her before bumping her head against her hand. “I know, I can’t believe him either. He’s just a big old meanie, that’s who he is.”

Shōta shook his head and stood up straight. “Well while you two are talking about me behind my back, I’m going to start me a coffee.”

“Make me a cup, please. Cream and two sugars.”

“I know the drill.” Shōta waved his hand up as he made his way into the kitchen.

Kiko smiled, then looked down as Crème-Brûlée was licking her hand as she purred loudly. “Yes, you did a great job, honey. I’m so proud of you. Don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you and those sweet babies go to a good home.”

Kiko did often wonder if she herself was ready to be a mother, and the topic was often a conversion she had with her husband in regards to their future. It was decided because of their choice of career Kiko made the decision to get her tubes tied, and they would be okay with raising cats as opposed to children. It was an easy conversion for them to have that they felt was the best decision.

Despite that, they were happy.

In the kitchen, Shōta was in the kitchen prepping two cups of coffee. Oobi, a male siamese cat, jumped on the counter and sniffed the cup.

“This isn’t for you, Oobi.” Shōta used his finger to move the cat’s face away before he could taste it, but Oobi looked at him with his mouth open. “Yeah, you wouldn’t like this stuff, buddy. It’s not good for you.” He noticed out of the corner of his eye an orange paw trying to reach for Kiko’s cup. “Ah! Stop right there, Nana, you’d better not stick your paw in there.”

Nana’s orange ears folded back as she quickly moved her head, her paws spread out. She chirped, then jumped off the counter and dashed out of the kitchen past Kiko’s legs, scaring Chibi who was in Kiko’s arms. Chibi hissed as Nana zoomed past them.

“Now, Chibi, it’s okay,” Kiko cooed. Shōta handed her the cup of coffee, and she thanked him. “Why don’t we put on a movie?” she suggested.

“This late?”

“Shōta, I’m not going to fall asleep after having a coffee.” She gently raised her cup.

Shōta looked at his cup of black coffee. “Good point.”

“Just stay in for the night. You’ve worked so hard, you earned a night off.”

Shōta looked at Kiko and felt a sense of warmth and ease in her presence. He had missed this feeling of not having to work himself to death and to just spend a night at home.

Kiko and Shōta opted to spend the rest of the night watching a movie, making themselves popcorn and wrapping themselves in some warm, soft blankets that some of their cats made themselves cozy on and kneaded on them. The couple huddled on the couch as they watched the movie. Kiko’s tail was wrapped around Shōta as she purred softly, laying her head on his shoulder as he held the bowl of popcorn in his lap. Shōta’s long black hair was tied back into a ponytail (which he knew Kiko absolutely adored). After a long day of grading these students’ entrance exams and deciding who would be best fit for U.A High and a long night of watching out for villains in the dead of night to save lives, it felt nice to finally relax with the love of his life and not have to think of work for just one moment. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead as she purred.

“I love you,” he murmured.

Kiko smiled. “I love you too.”

[abisalli]

There was always a certain shift that happened in Batman whenever he talked to kids that were hurt or scared. He would speak more softly, maybe even kneel down in front of them to personally assure them that they were safe now.

My first piece for this year's @batfam-big-bang! This is a scene from the incredible fic by @fullmetalninjabunny called 'Soft Words Left Unspoken' which you can find here <- 🦇 I had a blast working on this! Thank you so much for having me and also thank you to the mods for a great event <3

Image ID:

An image of Tim Drake as Robin and Bruce Wayne as Batman inside the Batcave. Both characters have their masks off. Tim is sitting on top of a medical bed and is looking to the side with tears streaming down his face. Bruce kneels down in front of him, looking troubled. He is holding Tim’s Mask in his right hand. In the foreground are four boxed captions with the following text, “It wasn’t Batman who was there anymore, but Bruce Wayne. Not the vigilante that had lost a protégé, but the man who has lost his son.”

[cha-lii]

when you’re asexual but 90% of the fics written for your new obsession is smut

[grey-viridian]

Based on hollow mind by @crows-murder

Thanks for the inspiration and a lot of pain)

Here is a version without a shield (it doesn't make sense but I just like it. You can see the fear in Leo's eyes much clearer>:3)

Aaand the original sketch (which I also like so I'm showing it to you)

[nipuni]

Some sketches of Ellie taking care of Alec 🤭

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Council of lovefools.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[mild-incompetence]

I like how we don’t see Fizz completely until he has his horns covered and how Fizz also doesn’t wake up Ozzie until he has his horns covered.

That whilst he’s lying on Ozzie he is still almost completely under the cover. You can barely see the tip of his face and his arm.

But then the alarm goes off and he has hidden himself entirely under the sheet.

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ actions and dialogue for forbidden kisses 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

¹⁾ “… that shouldn’t have happened.”

²⁾ holding onto their shoulders/waist for the duration of the kiss, and making no move to separate even after it’s ended

³⁾ “stop telling me that we can’t be together and then pulling shit like this!”

⁴⁾ “[name], i’m sorry.”

⁵⁾ pressing the pads of their fingers into their lips in the aftermath, like they’re either trying to capture the feeling or banish it from memory

⁶⁾ foreheads pressed together as the kiss breaks, eyes guilty but so so full of want

⁷⁾ “this can’t be all there is. a half-dozen kisses every year that we pretend don’t happen and pretentious conversations about ourselves, is that what we’re clinging so hard to? what i’m clinging so hard to?!”

⁸⁾ having begun to trail impassioned kisses down their jaw and neck before the harsh reality kicks back in

⁹⁾ “i shouldn’t have let this happen. it’s not fair on either of us.”

¹⁰⁾ “we sh- “ “no, please. just- just let me have this. just for a minute.”

¹¹⁾ breathing in their scent because they know that this is as close as they’ll get to it for a long, long time

¹²⁾ “why are we doing this to ourselves?”

¹³⁾ using every ounce of strength they have to not lean into the hand cupping their cheek or cradling their head

¹⁴⁾ “that was an accident.” “yeah, you always seem to say that.”

¹⁵⁾ “no matter how cruel it is that you keep giving me hope like this, it’s still never enough to stop me from loving you as much as i do.”

¹⁶⁾ “i don’t want to let go of you.” “and i don’t want to let you.”

¹⁷⁾ feeling tears welling up in their eyes as the hurt and longing burns in their chest

¹⁸⁾ holding the face of their would-be lover tenderly in the palm of their hand, silently apologising for putting them both through this again

¹⁹⁾ “i love y- “ “no, no. please, i can’t. i can’t hear this, not again.”

²⁰⁾ breaking the kiss but still holding them close, hiding their face in the other’s neck to try and recover the moment

²¹⁾ “would now be a bad time to tell you you’re a really good kisser?”

²²⁾ calling them a petname to try and comfort them, but only succeeding in upsetting them more at the reminder of what they can’t have

²³⁾ pushing them away, knowing exactly how cruel it is but favouring it over hurting them both by letting things go further

²⁴⁾ “how do we keep letting this happen?”

²⁵⁾ “this is killing me, [name].”

[sophsun1]

9-1-1 – 8.05: Masks

[timethehobo]

If Rook had to choose between themselves or a companion in a losing fight.

[avcdgrdn]

── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, sfw

word count: 1426

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

nothing could have prepared you for the man who walked through the front door of the inn that day.

he looked like death, his chocolate hair tangled, his square jaw riddled with bruises and dirt. heavy eyes fixed themselves upon your figure.

"you got a spare room?"

that voice, gravelly and low, betrayed the exhaustion that plagued this mysterious stranger. you couldn't help but stare for a moment, lost in thought.

"i ... ah, yes, of course. just a room for one?"

your hands swiftly moved to ring him up, pressing a few buttons on the cash register. the man visibly reacted to the metallic sounds of the register, an expression of mild panic settling in.

"yeah ..." he dug through his pockets, patting himself over until he secured a grip on his wallet. pulling it out, he flipped it open, revealing nothing but an ID and a few sticks of gum. he clicked his tongue, defeated. "... this is embarrassing."

it was evident that something wasn't right with him; he looked as if he could collapse at any given moment. should you just deny him service and let him leave? what if he just got himself into deeper trouble? was he even in his right mind?

there was a fleeting moment of awkward silence as the two of you avoided eye contact. you took a sharp breath in.

"... tell me, sir, what's your name?"

his bushy brows rose in surprise. "er ... stan. stan pines." stan gave you a once-over, pulling a sly smirk despite his run-down appearance. "why? ya like what you see?"

a sort of scoffing chuckle left your lips. "this isn't really the time for jokes ..." your eyes trailed down to his stained jacket, torn-up jeans, and over worn shoes. at that, he laughed, which quickly turned into a painful cough. the concern became more evident on your face.

"-ah, you're right, of course. nobody would really want a guy like me, yeah?"

you couldn't bring yourself to respond to that. you could see the storm in his eyes.

turning your back to the counter, you picked up a key that was hanging from the wall, holding it out to him as you met his confused gaze.

"room 34. your stay will be on the house tonight, sir."

"... you're pullin' my leg."

"no, i'm perfectly serious."

hesitantly, he reached out his hand to take the key. your fingers brushed against his rough skin briefly before you pulled your arm back.

stan simply stood there, still processing what had just been given to him. he'd tried this before with numerous other places, and they'd all shut him down. he'd been through ... how many, four, five different states by now? finally, a night where he doesn't have to sleep in his car. the notion of spending a night in an actual bed ... seemed unreal.

"well, i ... damn. th-thanks, toots." he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. a faint shade of pink rose to his cheeks, which he attempted to play off by staring at the ground.

how long had it been since anyone had shown him this kind of generosity?

unsure of what to do, he decided to make his way over to his room, locating the staircase and climbing up, stealing a glance back at you. you watched him ascend the stairs, leaning your arms against the counter.

your mind continued to race. the man looked like he'd just been in a fight. did he have wounds that needed treatment? did he have any place to go? ... of course, those were all personal questions that you knew you shouldn't ask about. he is only a customer ... at least you could offer him somewhere to crash for the night.

it had been two hours.

two hours, and yet, you still couldn't get him off your mind.

you figured you might be able to offer him some dinner.

or was that just you trying to come up with an excuse to see him again? you didn't think about it too hard.

making your way over to the kitchen, you had the chef prep a single serving of food, laying it out on a tray which you picked up and began to walk with. the carpeted floor softened the sound of your footsteps.

arriving at the end of the hall, you stood in front of the door labeled "34", hesitating. you steeled your nerves and knocked gently on its wooden surface.

a few moments passed. you could hear the sound of rustling fabric and footsteps as stan made his way over to the door, opening it and observing his visitor. he was dressed in a bathrobe, his hair damp and his face looking much cleaner than before.

"sorry if i came at a bad time. i just figured you might want a bite to eat." you averted your eyes by glancing to the tray of food you held, a faint blush rising to your face.

twinkling lights began to glisten in place of the dark storm you'd seen in him before. his expression softened in disbelief, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

eventually, he spoke.

"why are you doing this?"

"... what do you mean?"

"i mean, you're wastin' your good food 'nd room. you deserve your money-"

he cut himself off, swallowing back a bitter feeling in his throat.

"-i ... i need to ... pay it back."

oh. is he ... crying?

you could feel your heart wrench in your chest. "s-stan. it's okay."

he furiously blinked back tears, taking a deep breath and putting on a weary grin. "will ya keep that food hot for me? i'm just gonna get dressed. i think i'll eat it downstairs."

"oh, of course."

"thanks a bunch." he winked at you, then shut the door, leaving you to stare at the room label again. you blinked, then turned around to head back down.

after some time of waiting in the kitchen, you caught the sight of him descending the staircase and walking over to you. he was wearing a different shirt, although his jacket and jeans were the same. his hair was dry and much poofier now that it was clean. you caught yourself staring at his mullet.

"didja wait for too long?" stan pulled out a stool from the bar, taking a seat and watching as you put his plate of food in front of him.

"nah, you're okay." you offered a small smile. "feel free to dig in."

and boy, did he dig in. this man hasn't had a proper meal in forever. his daily diet has consisted of strictly rationed cheap snacks and the occasional stolen burger and fries. you swore you've never seen a guy so happy to eat something before in your life. somehow, watching him was making you feel warm inside.

"this ... is the best food i ever tasted." stan mumbled, looking up at you in between bites. all sorts of different emotions were raging inside of him, and the feeling of being properly nourished was bringing them up to the surface. his brown eyes began to overflow with tears, and he cursed underneath his breath, eating more aggressively to try and distract himself.

"uh, stan? are you alright?"

that was the last straw. his brows knit together and he swallowed his food, dropping his fork onto the plate. the tears were flowing freely now.

"no. dammit, i'm not alright."

stan covered his face with one arm, his broad frame trembling as he choked back bitter sobs.

"it's just that ... m-my parents, and i ... s-see- and my brother-"

he hunched over, shifting to cover his face with both hands. everything was crashing down.

"oh, God, my brother ..."

you walked out from behind the bar, making your way over to where he sat and taking the seat next to him. you didn't really think at all, you just slid your arm around his back and-

the instant he felt your touch, stanley clung onto you desperately.

onto somebody who was showing him hospitality. onto somebody who cared enough to worry about his health. onto somebody unlike anybody else he'd met these past few years.

burying his face into your shoulder, he pulled you closer against him.

"'m sorry ... don't leave me alone."

the wetness of his tears soaked into your shirt, but you didn't mind. here in your arms was a little boy who just needed a hug.

you barely knew each other, but you had a feeling that was going to change.

"don't worry, i'm not going anywhere."

end

[ part two ]

[io-lu-art]

*sighs* hello.

here, have some hurt/comfort reylo.

you're welcome.

[isjasz]

[Day 174]

You aren't alone

In these trying times I decided to not do angst tdy actually we need some fluff

They get hugs🫂

[emry-stars-art]

Neil covering Andrew up again, but make it sweet this time

[And the follow up]