#what a pity
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midnight-mourning · 19 hours ago
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Comfy Cuddles
❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 18❄️❄️
one last softy before beddy by, as someone who has felt the pain of busting their ass on ice, I had to do my best for all of us out there who've suffered the same fate 😔 this one's for y'all fr fr
Prompt: YO I GOT A PROMPT :DD So, it's pretty icy where I live right now and I recently slipped and busted my ass :( Could we perhaps get the boys comforting reader after hurting themself with maybe some warming and massaging cuddles (to alleviate the pain)? :3
Word Count: 1610
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It was completely your own fault. You'd been in a rush to get to the store and get back quickly. The last thing you'd wanted was to be out and about today, but you had no choice, having forgotten to grocery shop sooner in the week. Meaning if you desired to have a decent holiday dinner or two, you needed to get supplies for it. 
So, you'd rushed out the door, telling the boys you would be quick so that you could spend the day together as you'd planned. This was their first holiday season outside the Plex and you wanted everything to be perfect for them. 
What you didn't account for, was mother nature herself fighting against you. 
It'd been the moment you locked the front door, starting to hurrying down your porch steps that you thought, you'd cleaned off earlier that morning. 
You were wrong. 
Your foot catches the edge wrong, ice causing you to slip, you fall back, hands going out to catch yourself. They help soften your fall, but now your wrist and your ass hurt as you drive to the store a half-wet mess. You turn the music on the radio up louder, trying to drown out your own stewing. 
You get inside and to your despair, it's even busier than you were expecting. People rush in and out, kids screaming and crying, couples arguing, senior citizens grumbling, it's a mess. Still, you won't be deterred. You adjust your hat, and begin your march inside. 
You have to fight an old woman for a cart—who, mind you, already had one and a basket, she was insisting on a third for some reason—but make your way inside. Shopping is a flurry, but you still are able to grab all your ingredients without much fuss. 
It's after you've checked out, and are walking out into the parking lot that nature targets you again. You're triple checking your list, when your feet come out from under you, and you fall again, this time, landing only on your left wrist, which was already hurting, and now is zinging bad. 
You let out a slew of curses, ignoring the looks you get from passerbys. Thankfully, some kind woman comes to your aid, helping you back up and handing you back your cart. 
On the drive home you turn the music up even louder, carols blasting at full volume. You know it's too loud when the car next to you gives you a weird look while you wait at the stop light. You just slink further down into your seat, white-knuckling the wheel. 
"It's all gonna be worth it. It's all gonna be worth it." You chant to yourself. "They're gonna be so excited, they're gonna have so much fun, you're not going to ruin this for them."
You know how excited both Sun and Moon have been for the holidays. They've had a blast so far helping you decorate, put up the tree, wrap presents, and so on. But you know in particular they've been looking forward to cooking and baking with you, as it's something they could never imagine doing back in the Pizza Plex. 
Furthermore, they see it as something they can do that entirely benefits you and your needs. It's important to them, the holidays and this meal overall are important to them. You'll pop a few pain relievers, and ice your wrist and you'll live. 
Oh, if only that were the case. 
You didn't account for one thing, and one thing alone. 
Mother nature likes to work in threes. 
You're walking up the steps, bundles on groceries in your arms, when she strikes one final time. While you're on the sidewalk before your steps. You slip, bags go flying, along with the last piece of your dignity, you think. 
You just close your eyes and wait to hit the ground. Landing this time fully on your back, the snow only barely cushioning your fall as you let out a pained groan. 
This one knocked the wind out of you, and you have to take a moment to catch your breath as you lay there, ignoring the scattered veggies and other items that surround you like the chalk outline of a crime scene. 
After a few deep breaths, you reach your hand up, ripping off your glove with your teeth and biting down. You let out a muffled scream, kicking your sore feet and ignoring how each hit against the ground sends pain shooting up through you. 
You're too busy having a tantrum to realize the door's opened and shut. Instead, when Sun's face comes into view you're very surprised to see him. 
His voice is soft, full of worry. "Starshine, what are you doing laying out here in the snow? Why are the groceries everywhere?"
You try to speak and remember the glove. You remove it from your mouth, trying to hide your pain as you speak. "Hi, Sunny. I, had a bit of a spill."
"Oh goodness! I thought so. Are you alright?" He starts fretting, hurriedly pulling you to your wobbly feet. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here to help, why did you say anything about there being so many groceries?"
You wave him off, bending to pick things up, even though it hurts like hell. "I thought I could get it all myself. It's fine, you can go back inside, you don't have a coat on and I don't want your internals freezing up."
Sun stares at you, gaze like a hawk as he sees you flinch while picking things up. 
"You're hurt."
You grab another orange, stuffing it into a bag, god your... everything, hurts. "It was just a little slip, really I'm okay—"
His hand envelops yours, gently moving you so you're standing straight, his other hand on your shoulder as he peers down at you. 
"A 'little slip' doesn't have you moving like you're 80, Starshine." His tone is colder than you ever heard. "You fell. Hard, apparently."
"Only for you~" You say, before you're suddenly scooped up. "Ow! Easy on the goods."
"You are hurt!" Sun tsks, marching inside. "We knew it, you're getting treated immediately, and resting the remainder of today. And tomorrow too!"
You try to protest. "It was just a couple minor spills! Come on, I'll take some meds and be okay. I know how important dinner tonight is for you guys, and today overall."
"You're more important to us than any silly tradition, you should know that by now."
Sun sets you down on the couch, snatching up not one, not two, but three blankets. He ushers you out of your outer wear and then takes the blankets, wrapping them around you in one giant, inescapable, cocoon. He pats your head a few times, then bends down to your eye level. 
"Now, what's this about a couple spills, you say?" His rays click to one side, and you gulp. 
You're sentence to couch jail. Length of stay? Indefinite. Conclusion based upon? The glare Sun sends you from the kitchen everytime you even consider getting up for something, including the bathroom. 
He makes dinner early, practically feeding it to you because your arms are trapped under blankets and the one is wrapped in a splint with ice. 
After dinner you're subjected to more torture, in the form of cuddles. An atrocity, that's what this prison is. You now sit in the sunny bot's lap, blankets around you both, as he massages your shoulders and back. You will not admit how good it feels. Both in relieving your pain, and in having such an extraordinary amount of affection hurled your way with such an act. 
A groan slips through your lips when his palm digs into your shoulder blade, and he chuckles. 
"It doesn't even hurt that much." You grumble, only to let out another noise unintentionally. 
His voice is soft and his head lowers to your neck, planting a kiss there. "Oh, I'm sure it doesn't."
Your ears burn, but you say nothing. 
"Why do you think you can't ask us for help?" He asks. "You know we care about you more than anything."
You sigh. "I just, wanted this to go smoothly today. You guys were so excited and I didn't want to let you down. I'm sorry. I'm mad at myself, not you two. Thank you for taking care of me today." You turn and plant a kiss to his cheek. 
Sun's arms wrap around you, snuggling close as he kisses your shoulder. "Of course, Sunbeam. Always."
Sometime later, when the lights have been turned down and you're now watching a movie, Moon takes his turn trying to ease your pain. 
"Silly, Star." He tsks, rubbing his thumb over your wrist gently, other hand kneading the side of your hip. "Next time, we're going with you. We'll even carry you if we have to."
You chuckle, humming as he works. "That sounds fun, but I'll pass. On the carrying that is. Maybe if you come with me one of you will also bust your ass, and I'll have something to laugh about."
Moon snickers, pressing his faceplate to your lifted wrist. "How mean of you. But if it'll make you smile, I suppose we can suffer through."
"Appreciate it." You snuggle closer to him, eyelids starting to feel heavy after being wrapped up and warm for so long.
As sleep starts to take you over you mumble out another thanks to the attendants, hoping they heard you. 
Well, you can always tell them again in the morning. Maybe show them too. A few more kisses should do the job quite nicely.
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Thank you for the cute request @kaprisvn!! Hope you're feeling better now, and at the very least hope this was a fun little read ^-^
captured the feeling properly :)
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radarchives · 2 months ago
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auroramercedes · 2 months ago
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metallica fans when someone says that james hetfield and dave mustaine are not in love and genuinely dont get along well
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dexjarxenoengage · 6 months ago
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What a pity…
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radioactive-cloud · 1 year ago
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can they stop flirting for two seconds?
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source: x
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lesxel · 5 months ago
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A drawing I made of Will and my oc :3
I am not one to show my drawings because they make me feel ashamed... but I wanted to upload this one! WILL TE AMO
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precariously-in-love · 1 month ago
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Inauthenticity Does not come naturally to me I am what I am and that's all that I can be But I am not worthy of your pity In fact, you're more deserving If you're hiding the hurting While I'm earnestly learning Who you are, and I'm searching For a heart that can match mine But yours is beating in half-time You can't catch up and that's just fine Simply don another face and fall in line Know you don't want us to know you But darling, your skin is as see-through As mine, no matter what you do So whether you're false or true, Doesn't really make a difference to me Cause you've shown me all I need to see And it's time to face the reality That you don't believe in authenticity
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judeniriain8 · 3 months ago
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"Back in My Day..."; Jealousy of Your Child's Privilege (24/08/24) By Jude Ní Riain
It's a common thing for them to say,
"Oh well, back in my day..."
As they rattle on about their past,
Saying thinks in hopes you act a ghast.
And by itself this would be grand.
If they didn't say it after you show your hand.
After you tell them of your day, joys or pain
On your parade they have to rain.
"At least your life isnt like before,
You see, now that life was a chore.
Compared to us you get to have life in ease
And get to do whatever you please."
This lack of sympathy makes them seem jealous.
Jealous of their child's privileges I guess.
I don't get why they aren't proud
Of the life for their child that they've allowed.
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random-xpressions · 1 year ago
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If I continue like this I'm afraid some day these lips will forget how to kiss...
Random Xpressions
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a-z-4-m-i · 9 months ago
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What the world will remember of Tumblr :
Boop.
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formula1squids · 7 months ago
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it turns out mercedes’ current state was toto’s master plan to avoid giving carlos a seat…
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probablygayattorneys · 9 months ago
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Yes, hello, 911? I’d like to report shots fired by @vaptainhammer
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nervebound · 9 months ago
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roadkill
all i am is fur and a sack of aching bones
rarely does the stray get touched
not by hands, not from warmth
a shallow grave, stiff, and sound
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theblackestofsuns · 11 months ago
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"What A Pity"
Fantastic Four #84 (March 1969)
Stan Lee, Jack Kirby and Joe Sinnott
Marvel Comics
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fipindustries · 1 year ago
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aaaaaand he is a douche, figures
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pointless-letters · 2 years ago
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The Ten Commandments: definitely, absolutely, totally not religious dogma. Just so we’re all clear.
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