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#emotional hurt/comfort

Rain is a wonderful thing and there’s a certain wonderful magic about it. Especially for those who need a little water to rejuvenate their heart, soul, and mind.
Danny loves the rain.

Danny walks with his head tilted skyward, letting the rain splash and bounce off his face. It was a nice feeling and it made the world around him smell clean and clear. Sure there was the faint hint of lime from all the ectoplasm contaminated water that’s evaporated up into the thick swirling clouds, but he finds he doesn’t particularly mind nor care. If anything it made the rain all the sweeter, making it a more vibrant gem-like blue and the droplets taste like sugar water on his tongue.

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Here you go <3

Offspring Post S10. Mickey is pretty convinced he’s not cut out for parenting. And he married a guy who wouldn’t mind a kid or two. (Mickey flips out when Franny is being too loud).

broad-shouldered beasts series Six years after Mickey goes to jail, he’s released on parole. He does his best to build a “normal” life and a relationship with his son while juggling the scars of his past.

Volume Mickey doesn’t like loud noises and fuck if living in the Gallagher house doesn’t guarantee loud noise.

fix me up Mickey has a lot of scars. Ian has a lot of feelings about those scars.

Scars That Erased Innocence Mickey has scars-both physical and emotional-left behind from his childhood and teenage years. Sometimes, those scars cause him pain, but Ian is always there.

please don’t say I’m going alone S3 fix it. Ian shows up at Mickey’s wedding and asks him to run away together. Somehow, Mickey finds himself stupid enough to say yes.

i love it when you try to save me To Mickey, loving someone means taking care of them no matter what, and he’s never loved anyone the way he loves Ian Gallagher.

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To Plant New Seeds by momentia

It’s sometime later, still dark or maybe dark again, when the door to his flat opens. He wakes, startles, then whimpers. Every tiny movement feels like the knives are still hacking away at him. Where was their cold efficiency then? No, they’d wanted him to suffer. They’d succeeded.

“Oh.” That voice again, and in the room this time. Crowley would weep, but he’s not sure when he last stopped. “Oh,” Aziraphale says again, “oh, Crowley.”

“They took them,” Crowley moans, pitiful even to his own ears. “They took my wings.”

~Mod P

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You are so sweet!!! I hope you like it! :D

“I’ll be seeing you, Archivist.” In a voice so saccharine sweet in such juxtaposition to how empty and ashamed Jon felt twisted up on the floor where she’d dropped him. He tried to focus, to see her, where she was, or was not but she had slipped through her yellow door in a burst of static before he truly understood where he was. It was when his office began to coalesce around him that the tears came, stinging, burning, the idea that he might just be safe here for even a moment catching on the ragged attempt at a breath. Two. Three. Swift. Hyperventilating. No hands, no mannequins, no, no, no stripping, stroking, smoothing, touching.

But he must be silent. Silent if he’s to be able to hide in this small bit of sanctuary and he muffled himself, calling upon years of practice crying in the dark alone, and dragged himself under his desk for another degree of separation against the world and its cruelty. Nevermind that he brought this upon himself, he intended to hide from it until the hunger and thirst clawing at his stomach, his throat, forced him from his hiding place. Leaning against the cool wall, Jon pressed a flushed cheek against it, wrapping his arms around his knees and collapsing inwards like a dying star.

No one came for him.

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Zhao Yunlan jolts awake at the sensation of the bed shaking beneath him. For a second, his sleep-addled brain thinks they’re having an earthquake, but after a groggy glance around, he realizes the shaking is coming from Shen Wei on the other side of the bed.

“Shen Wei?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

Shen Wei is up on his knees hunched forward shifting restlessly in a near rocking motion, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists on his thighs.

Zhao Yunlan watches him shake his head violently, releasing his breath in a sob.

“Baobei?” he says, heart constricting in his chest.

“Yunlan,” Shen Wei croaks, voice breaking. The sound of his voice like that, aching and full of pain, and giving under it, is devastating. It breaks Zhao Yunlan’s heart. Throat constricting, he twists onto his hip and reaches out hesitantly to put a hand on Shen Wei’s arm.

“Baobei–” he says quietly and then sucks in a breath when Shen Wei turns his face abortively toward Zhao Yunlan and he sees the gleaming line of a tear on his cheek. He grips Shen Wei’s arm a little too tight. “Baby?”

“I lost you,” Shen Wei rasps, voice creaking under the strain of the words.

“What?” Zhao Yunlan says, pressing closer, “No. Xiao Wei–no, I’m here. You haven’t–you haven’t lost me!” He grabs Shen Wei’s hand and presses on the knuckles until it unfurls, presses the palm against his chest. “I’m here,” he says fiercely.

Shen Wei sobs, more tears streaking down his cheeks, but he fans his fingers out over Zhao Yunlan’s heart and leans in until their foreheads are pressed together. He lifts the other hand, curling it around the back of Zhao Yunlan’s neck, and grips it like if he just holds on tight enough he can keep Zhao Yunlan there. Zhao Yunlan cups his waist, willing to sit here as long as Shen Wei needs, anything to wipe away that gut-wrenching despair in his face and voice.

Shen Wei trembles in his arms, breathing in shuddering bursts. It takes a long time, but he finally calms and shifts his head to Zhao Yunlan’s shoulder. Zhao Yunlan can feel the shame and embarrassment creeping in on him and he cups Shen Wei’s jaw, kisses the side of his head. “What happened?” he asks lowly.

Shen Wei shakes his head slightly, voice muffled between their bodies. “It was a dream. I’m–I’m being foolish.”

Zhao Yunlan kisses his head again. “No, you aren’t. Feeling stuff isn’t foolish. Will you tell me what you dreamed about?”

Shen Wei’s hands tighten reflexively around him. He’s quiet for a long moment and Zhao Yunlan thinks he’s not going to answer when he whispers, “Ye–Ye Zun ate you. I stood by and watched while he consumed you and–” His voice breaks. “Ten thousand years and I lost you to my own brother.”

Zhao Yunlan grimaces, eyes closing briefly. He’d nearly lived that and it had torn him to pieces–without ten thousand years of waiting behind it. And Ye Zun wasn’t someone who had been precious to him. “You didn’t though,” he says. “I’m here. You haven’t lost me.”

It’s humbling, with how much Shen Wei has been through that despite it all what shakes him most is the idea of losing Zhao Yunlan. He doesn’t deserve Shen Wei, hell, is hardly worthy of him, but Zhao Yunlan will hold on to him with every last shred of strength in his body until Shen Wei turns his back on him. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he murmurs and Shen Wei gives a weak, wet laugh. “I won’t let you lose me.”

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Thanks to @buddiextarlos for the prompt!

Eddie’s been in love with Buck so long, he honestly didn’t realize there could be anyone in the world who didn’t know they were a couple now.

In which it takes a little bit for Eddie to 1) understand why Buck would care about parent-teacher conferences and 2) understand that that art teacher was absolutely hitting on him right in front of Buck. Luckily Eddie knows exactly how to fix things.

(can also be read on Ao3)

Eddie and Buck were waiting in their usual spots in front of Eddie’s truck when Christopher came out of school, watching him wave goodbye to his teacher before he spotted them and his whole face lit up.

“Dad! Buck!” Even though this was their routine every time they were both off shift, it always seemed to bring the three of them the same amount of joy it had the first time. Eddie scooped Christopher up in his arms, squeezing him tightly before Buck took him for a hug, the familarity of the manuever a source of comfort in and of itself.

“Mr. Diaz!” A voice called out from the doorway, and Eddie turned, as Buck balanced Christopher on his hip. A young woman came hurrying up to them, her long skirt flying behind her in the breeze. “Mr. Diaz, I’m Mary Beth Carter, Christopher’s art teacher.” She smiled at Christopher before turning her smile, and her attention, back to Eddie. “You are coming to the parent teacher conferences, aren’t you?”

“I’m already signed up, Mrs. Carter,” Eddie assured her, smiling back. Buck shifted Christopher slightly, bringing him closer, his eyes fixed on the conversation in front of him.

“Ms. Carter, or Mary Beth is fine,” she responded with a laugh, and Buck abruptly turned and headed towards the truck, opening the back door and beginning to settle Christopher in.

“Thanks Ms. Carter, I will see you at conferences,” Eddie said, nodding as he moved towards the driver’s side door, sliding in and waiting for Buck to sit in the passenger seat. It took an extra minute or two, but Buck finally slid in himself, clicking his seatbelt and settling in quietly. Eddie glanced at him quickly, but honking from behind alerted Eddie that another parent desperately wanted his parking spot, and he pulled out and onto the road.

“Buck, you’re coming to talk to my teachers too, right?” Christopher called out from the back.

“Sounds like it’s just for your dad, buddy,” Buck responded, twisting around to pat Christopher reassuringly on the knee when he heard the frustrated groan Christopher gave.

“But I want you there!” Christopher insisted.

“Christopher, Buck has a twenty four hour shift ending right before conferences, he’s going to need his sleep,” Eddie answered, frowning as he swore he heard matching sighs from his son and boyfriend. “Buck-”

“Sorry Superman, you know I would come if I could,” Buck said softly, “I wasn’t able to ask for time off since I didn’t know about it.” Eddie’s frown grew deeper, wondering at the twinge in Buck’s voice, something nagging in the back of Eddie’s brain about Buck’s word choice, but the light turned green and he had to focus on the road again.

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Of course!

I Want to Break Free… by Mirach

This story was inspired by the list of soft moments by @aziraphalelookedwretched on tumblr. I read it and thought “that sounds like a challenge to put them all into one fic”. One would expect that doing that would produce a short, sweet fic, right? Wrong. Or maybe it would work with someone who’s not me because I need the hurt to enjoy the comfort. But at least this fic is focused on the comfort, with the hurt being mostly in the past. It also uses a few other headcanons and inspirations from BuggreAlleThis’s stories.

It is complete and will be posted in three chapters. You can expect the next chapter on Friday and the last one on Sunday.

Thanks to @kaiannanthi for being my beta again! <3

~Mod P

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Title: Spin The Sky (light the path, and these strange steps take us back) |AO3|

Pairing: Lyle Jensen/Tracey

Fandom: Manic (2001)

Rating: Teen

A/N: I hadn’t seen any fic about one of my favorite movies or this pairing yet, so I decided to write a little one shot for them. This is set the night/early morning after the end of the film. Enjoy!

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Catharsis, Protectiveness, First Love, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Underage Kissing, Teens, Past Rape/Non-con, No present rape/non-con, Anger, Restraints, Not The Kind Of Restraints You Think, Implied/Referenced Violence, Mutual Pining, Van Gogh.

Photo credits: | x | x | x |

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Certainly, dear!

crossed wires by edgarallennope

“Aziraphale,” they asked seriously, “do you know what autism is?”

Aziraphale has always been a little odd, and a little different from the rest of Heaven. He’d never even considered there might be a word for it.

((Aziraphale is autistic and has to overcome 6000 years of internalised ableism and emotional abuse, but it’s soft I swear!))

~Mod P

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