#with a side of hurt and whump

[kennahjune]

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:

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #lucas sinclair #steve gets his appreciation #steve harrington whump #steve has his own interests #his world doesn’t revolve around everyone else #let him be happy #and silly #steddie #hurt/comfort #but not really #cause I’m shit at angst #lucas and steve having a bro bond over sports and doing the weird side hug things #bro bond #cause I’m kind of obsessed

[bloodandwhump]

Little Joe Cartwright in Bonanza: - S01E10 The Magnificent Adah - S04E10 The Deadly Ones - S04E28 My Brother's Keeper - S09E01 Second Chance - S13E03 Bushwacked!

#bonanza #western whump #vintage whump #whump community #i made this gif #-SIDE EYE EMOJI- #DONT LOOK AT ME MAN #AINT MY FAULT HE DOES HURT VERY WELL

[silvercap]

Recovery always feels so heavy to me. Especially in terms of narrative, which is why I feel like more media needs to acknowledge it. There’s something compelling about the blood and desperation and drama of an injury, but I like seeing the catharsis and less physical effects of it, afterwards. For example:

Character A lies exhausted in bed under the soft sheets, the window in the corner of the room open to the crisp spring breeze, the curtains billowing quietly as birds chirp distantly outside. The sun is shining outside, but the room is dim and cool.

 Maybe their fever has just broken after a long, anxious night, or maybe they’re just waking up to find their body covered in bandages and wounds. Character B sits silently at their bedside---asleep or just lost in thought---their hand entwined with A’s. There’s relief, but so much fear still holding B in turmoil, and A is only now starting to comprehend the extent of the ordeal. They feel detached, sick; and are probably still in pain. 

Maybe they just want to cry; maybe they do cry, but there’s always comfort in B’s presence. I’m just imagining silent tears spilling down A’s face as B frowns in sympathy and carefully pulls their friend/lover/sibling into a gentle hug. 

There’s so much emotional tension, and everything feels super bittersweet for everyone involved. In the future, A will push through, perhaps ignoring their condition in favor of stoicism and the confrontation of whatever conflict they’re facing despite B’s protests---but for now, they’re allowed to breathe, and understand how close they’ve just come to death. 

It’s a chance to rest, but in a way, it’s also a turning point! It’s also a good situation for revelations of love or concern; as well as a way to enforce character A’s flaws or humanity. 

#whump #recovery #hurt/comfort #recovery whump #fever #illness #aghhhh narrative significance by way of injury my beloved #it's about the COMFORT and how someone cares enough to stay by your side even when you're hurting and lost #whump writing #whump aesthetic

[shywhumpauthor]

Whumper orders Whumpee to be silent, threatening them with what would happen if they made even the slightest sound.

What a bad time for Whumpee to get the hiccups.

#whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #its me coal #coal wrote something #whumpee #whumper #whump prompt #whump prompts #whump idea #whump ideas #writing prompts #writing prompt #whump inspiration #whump inspo #I should do this to Noah #but actually it fucking hurts like all down my side and through my chest

[linecrosser]

several of you folks suggested whipping or flogging / scars on the back, so there we are! added twist: delivered by a loved one (he tries to not hit too hard but hard enough so they will be satisfied and not prolong this whole ordeal)

#achaar djaanib #shakkau #kujuun #recha #whump art #whump #public flogging #flogging #injury #forced to hurt #bombastic side eye #someone made an enemy today

[not-poignant]

Stardew Valley - 27/? - A Stain that Won’t Dissolve - Alex/Sebastian

Title: A Stain that Won’t Dissolve Rating: Explicit Pairing: Alex/Sebastian Tags: Hurt/comfort, aged-up characters (mid 20s), minor character death, angst, injury, grief, miscommunication, bullying, enemies to lovers, dubious consent, internalised homophobia, closeted character, past child abuse, dyslexia, antagonist farmer, unrequited love, pining, acceptance, top!Sebastian, bottom!Alex, power dynamics, happy ending.

Summary: Alex hates Sebastian – which is great because Sebastian more than returns the favour – and what starts out as revenge fantasy turns into unironic lust, which evolves into unrequited love. Alex gets a job, Sebastian marries the farmer, and both of them lose almost everything before finding each other again. A story of two mutual bullies who learn how to messily grow up.

A Stain that Won’t Dissolve (Alex/Sebastian) - Chapter 27 - I Might Just Walk Away From You

In which Alex is caught up in the absolute clusterfuck that is everything Abigail's just said to him, and he realises that Sebastian doesn't realise being the first one to ever cut him down that way, which kicks off a chain reaction of emotions he's not prepared to deal with.

#chapter update #a stain that won't dissolve #thespectaclesofthor #sdv fic #sdv alex #sdv sebastian #sebastian x alex #mm romance #queer romance #enemies to lovers #slowburn #hurt/comfort #whump #though the whump goes pretty hard in this chapter dflkdsjafas #though thank god Sebastian's on the right side for a change

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Having Oliver Queen be the one to comfort other characters when in situations because he hardly ever got any in his five years and he wants to make sure no one else has to feel that way

#this was very poorly worded #sorry #I’ve done this from day 1 #maybe this is wildly out of character but it’s ingrained in my writing DNA at this point #also he generally just has the most experience out of everyone so he knows how to help #really need to rewatch Arrow though #feels like his characterization is slipping through my fingers rn #luckily I don’t write him very often so a full binge can wait #my posts #side fics #oliver queen #am I perhaps projecting my ‘older sibling-ness’ onto him? perhaps #but he is also an older sibling #so it’s valid #free therapy #arrowverse #arrowverse fanfiction #also unrelated but I need to challenge myself to write a whump fic without Barry as the one getting hurt

[flannelepicurean]

Okay, the heinous problems due to sleep disorder being increasingly out of control persist, but I have had a scant few snatches of rest (not convinced it was actual sleep) that were between 2 and 4 hours, roughly. And I feel marginally less non-functional.

And I think I know what's made the difference, friends.

Not the space heater. Not the adjustment of mental and emotional expectations around sleep. Not the constant changing of clothing layer weights. Not the added fleece blanket. Not the rotation through a half-dozen pillows of differing character builds. Not the tweaking of timing of any number of circadian habits, or light levels, or fluid intake, or any other sleep hygiene changes.

It's been putting my head to the pillow, closing my eyes...and thinking about Vegeta attempting to coax a heinously sick Goku to drink a tiny bit of water and not giving a single fuck that everybody's looking when he tenderly strokes Goku's face, because they're both scared, and so is everybody else, kinda, and he can't help but be kinda soft and a little bit sweet, and goddammit, YES, he WILL say, "It's alright, Kakarot...I'm here," in front of Krillin and Yamcha and both of their wives, and every one of their descendants and the gods of every universe, and EVERYBODY, because sick Goku is so goddamn sad and pitiful and he wanted Vegeta there because he'd feel less scared...

I think something about this just...works for me. 😂🙃💖🥺💖😴

#my life right now #sicknario #sleep issues #kakavege #tfw u can't sleep #so u just imagine like #whump #hurt/comfort #sickfic #just somebody getting taken care of #something about it #soothing #but yeah #sick goku #caretaker vegeta #vulnerability #on both sides #chef's kiss #good night

[marc--chilton]

still losing my mind at the way houses relationship with john would have fucked up the way he sees being an omega. just,,, teen house, young and confused, experiencing these absoloutely brutal heats. not understanding why they are so bad and hard when theyre supposed to be a time where an omega feels good. already feeling broken and wrong, and then having to face john's anger and disappointment over him being an omega

like i can only imagine how it would affect him in heat, a time where he would be less able to think coherently. and constantly remembering how traumatic and horrible his heats as a teen were, the memory making him feel bad and in turn making him feel physically worse. just like,,, a constant feedback loop of remembering and feeling bad -> feeling physically worse in turn -> reminding himself even more of his childhood and feeling worse

i feel like after having to deal with his first few heats without a strong family net to acclimate to the changes, once house is outta there and doing his own thing he tries to never deal with his heats alone. he marks his cycle religiously, makes deals with alphas in med school to help him through them, or even finds street suppressants if he's especially desperate.

man. you just know john has put him outside for some of his heats, too. nothing to nest with, no scent blocking patches, just left him in the yard like a sacrificial lamb. it goes without saying how dangerous that is.

hell, once he's employed i wouldn't be surprised if he stole something from the hospital to bring home in case a heat comes up that he can't deal with, something that'll knock him out for the worst of it.

#asks #certified-moth #house md #writing a fic that is basically just heat whump for a lot of it as i type this #house's heats are bad always it's just how it is for him #but once he has the infarction it's even worse #his leg becomes another focal point for pain to localize to and the scar is so severe that when he's in heat #it runs scary hot. like where the muscle is missing sits just a molten core of pure agony #fainting spells and delirium become new side effects as a result #it is a pathetic miserable sight and he WANTS to be alone so no one can see him like that #but dealing with them alone is torture so he just doesn't win. it fucks with his issues of self #something else to resent about his body #he and wilson develop a fairly solid unofficial........ thing early on in their friendship #it would have taken wilson more convincing had he not witnessed the effects himself and got his caretaker heart twanging #even when he's married. which doesn't necessarily mean he's cheating but uh. it doesn't help in his case #all of it compounds into a very big mess that does not help the success rates of his marriages #goes to show how much more time wilson spends with house than his wives when he's more synced with house than them #now THAT is an offense. THAT'S what can get feelings hurt #it makes him feel bad but he tries to reassure himself by comparing their heats to house's. they don't understand how bad it is #<- probably the cause of several arguments #wilson trying to get bonnie or julie to understand why he Needs to do this and bristling when they Just Don't Get It #“house didn't break up our marriage but he sure didn't help” etc

[yourplasticpal]

Tumblr has yet to show me any fanart of Aziraphale and Crowley in the pose of La Pietá, and I hope this sorrowful state of affairs is soon rectified (PLEASE share links if I've simply missed it).

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #aziracrow #co-opting religious iconography for fandom purposes #my favorite #I just know S3 will be them (reluctantly) on opposite sides of a war #my angst and whump propensities #eternally at war with my LET THEM BE HAPPY propensities #gimme that sweet sweet hurt/comfort

[eddiebuckley-diaz]

AHHHHH

I have clearly not been up to date on 911 6B because I just saw that dreams do come true!

BUCK FALLS FROM THE LADDERRERR

i could cry tears of pure joy 🥹

FINALLY!

Coma!buck Era

Let’s rock and roll babes 💗

#coma!buck #this is my everything #dreams do come true #I need some major whump #with a side of gay realization!!! #I’m gonna cry this is so beautiful #my blorbo getting hurt #I love him so much #911 #911 on fox #911 fox #911 spoilers #evan buckley #evan buck buckley

[whumpfish]

Thinking about a whumpee with chronic pain, especially nerve damage. Maybe it's something the whumper did, maybe they're missing a limb or teeth and the empty space hurts. Maybe it it's that, but it was environmental. Maybe they have mitochondrial damage or lyme disease. Maybe it's a pain disorder like MPD, fibromyalgia, or ME/CFS.

They feel persistent, significant pain in a place that in no way connects to a visible injury or body part, so people dismiss them, thinking they're making it up, that they just want attention or drugs. They keep telling whumpee that it's all in their head and will go away if they exercise/eat more or differently/other thing that does absolutely nothing for nerve pain (or even makes nerve pain worse). Maybe even Caretaker doesn't believe them...

#mitochondrial disease #nerve damage #lyme #chronic illness #chronic pain #whump #whump prompt #whump prompts #whump community #whumpee #writing #whump tropes #whump scenario #whump writing #i have a bad tooth but it hurts on the opposite side of my face #driving me crazy

[prentissology]

my gwen drafts being a line of “angst, angst, angst, ooh look breaking into pointe shoes fic, angst” is literally showing my (non-existent) diversity in writing

#on a side note i am going through the WORST case of writers block but all the fics i read are making me wanna open my docs… #gwen needs more hurt/comfort in her life! or possibly just hurt! whump is always a great decision! #im desperate #gwen stacy #spiderverse #atsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spider gwen

[dungeons-and-dragons-and-whump]

when the caretaker holds the sick/feverish whumpee close and kisses their hair damp with sweat

(˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)ﾉ⌒♡*:･。.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

˚ ҉✧ෆ ҉*₊( ‾ ʖ̫ ‾)₊* ҉ෆ✧ ҉˚

#you agree. reblog. #comfort prompt #Caretaker #whumpee #imma comfort side of hurt/comfort kind of gal #whump prompt

[befuddled-calico-whump]

got bored so Krieg gets to have a bad time

#dont ask me why i just have a puppet whumpee now #this was me going 'hm how does one whump a living puppet' #krieg #nonhuman whumpee #dismembered #the plus side? he can be fixed #the negative? still hurts #villain whumpee #whump art #krieg the puppet

[prodigal-explorer]

evening star - sanders sides fanfiction - v

(let me know if you want to be on the tag list!)

previous part

word count: 2.8k

(cw -> ptsd, dissociation, catatonia, brainwashed whumpee, unreliable narrator, mention of drugs (medicine), mention of muzzles, starvation)

It had taken an hour to calm Roman down. By the time he finished crying and carrying on, Janus wondered if the creative side even had any water left in his system. Janus stood up to get Roman a glass of water from the kitchen, but when he came back with it, Roman was slumped over, asleep. Apparently, sobbing and begging in physical and emotional agony was taxing. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill whoever did this,” Remus glowered, staring at his sleeping brother, his eyes dark. “It had to have been one of those three. It just had to. This stuff doesn’t happen in the Imagination.” 

“Remus, don’t,” Janus warned, grabbing Remus’ puffy sleeve. “Don’t go to them. They might not know Roman’s gone yet, and we don’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble. Not after we just got him to sleep again.” 

Remus drew a long, deep, dramatic sigh, and Janus was relieved. At least he could trust Remus to back off, at least for now, for the greater good. If he alerted the person who did this of Roman’s departure, that would possibly mean a coup, and Janus couldn’t handle headstrong, light side shenanigans on top of all of this. 

Gingerly, Janus picked up Roman, taking great care to leave his broken arm untouched as he slowly walked with the prince in his arms, over to his bedroom. 

“You don’t have to do that, Jan,” Remus mumbled, “He could sleep in my bed.” 

“No, my bed is more comfortable,” Janus said, “Smells better too. Besides, I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight. His back was completely infected, Remus. How did they let it get this bad? What reason did they have for- for any of this??” 

“Quiet,” Remus said with a smirk. “You’ll wake him.” 

He knew as well as Janus did that now, the roles were reversed. And the thought was amusing, even in a situation as dark as this one. 

Remus walked out of the bedroom with Janus, who carefully closed the door behind him, letting Roman snore in peace. Nervously, Janus peeled off his gloves, starting to fidget with his fingers. 

“They’re going to find out,” he muttered. “Whoever did this had Roman…like that…for some stunt, some grand display of power play. Considering how he was scrubbing at the stain when I showed up, I’m going to assume it was about that.” 

“Don’t forget about that damn muzzle,” Remus spat. “It looked like something you’d give a dog.” 

“A…dog.” 

All the pieces came together in Janus’ mind quicker than he could comprehend them moving. It all made sense now. And suddenly, Janus felt very dizzy. 

“A dog, Remus, a dog! They were trying to turn Roman into- that’s why Patton was calling him Puppy, that’s why he was wearing the muzzle, that’s why he was…talking about being a good boy.” 

“That’s fucked up,” Remus interjected. “Didn’t know any of the lights had a kink like that.” 

“I don’t think it has anything to do with that,” Janus mumbled. “If it did, hopefully, it would be consensual on both sides, not just one. Clearly, Roman didn’t consent to anything that was being done to him.” 

“Who do you think did this?” 

Remus started to pace around the room, impatient and restless. 

“Patton was the one that was calling him Puppy, but that doesn’t mean much. He has nicknames for everyone. Besides, Roman is Patton’s baby. Everything he does is perfect in Patton’s eyes, so what reason would he have for hurting him?” 

“What about Logan?” Janus offered. “You know he gets fed up with Roman in an instant, and his temper is terribly short. Maybe he just went too far today.” 

“But would Logan really indulge in such a strange fantasy?” Remus challenged. “A dog. Logan would think it’s ridiculous.” 

“That only leaves…” 

Janus’ face paled. 

On many levels, it made no sense. Virgil was the physical manifestation of anxiety. He knew firsthand how dreadful it felt. It was hard to believe that he would willingly subject another person to so much of it. Plus, Roman and Virgil got along well. They were probably the closest two sides in the Mindscape, besides Janus and Remus, of course. 

But on the other hand, it made perfect sense. Virgil had brute force on his side. He could definitely break Roman’s arm with ease. And who knows? Maybe this whole cruel, twisted game was a fucked up coping mechanism for Virgil. A way for him to blow off steam, and forget about his responsibilities. After all, nothing is quite so intoxicating as the feeling of being in control of somebody else. Janus knew firsthand how addicting playing God could become if one wasn’t careful. 

“For now, let’s just…be on the safe side, and assume it was all three of them,” Remus suggested. “All of them played a part in this somehow. Besides, it doesn’t matter who did it as much as it matters that we keep Roman away from anybody who could hurt him. He’s a cocky, arrogant son of a bitch, but…he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Surely, whoever did this knows that. And that’s why they chose Roman.” 

“I’ll keep him in my room,” Janus said. “Because of the properties of my powers, nobody can sink in and out of my room anyway. So we’ll just hide Roman in there until it all blows over and they stop looking for him.” 

“Even if you can’t sink in or out of your room, I still don’t like the idea of Roman being alone,” Remus muttered. “Any second, somebody could- they could just grab him. What would he be able to do about it? We have to make sure he’s stable.” 

Janus quirked his eyebrow in surprise. He should have known that Remus would take such a situation pertaining to his twin brother seriously, but it still surprised Janus when the side deemed as chaos and dark creativity acted with just as much if not more maturity than himself. 

“Alright,” he replied. “That sounds like something you can handle.” 

Remus nodded dutifully, entering the bedroom. Janus was glad for this plan. Not only would it give that extra layer of security, the concept that Roman was always being watched and protected from danger, but it also kept Remus from letting his impulsivity win and going after Patton, Virgil, and Logan. Janus knew that nothing but trouble would come from such an interaction. They had to lay low, at least until they had a full-fledged plan. 

—

Roman was starting to grow nervous. 

A few days had passed since he woke up, seeing Remus right next to him at every moment, barely taking his eyes off his twin for a second. Roman found it a bit unsettling at first, but eventually, he got used to the feeling of Remus’ semi-permanent, watchful gaze. And at a certain point, it started to become familiar and warm, the thought that his brother was watching over him to make sure he was safe. It made Roman feel like he was loved. 

Remus kept telling him strange things. That he didn’t have to follow the rules, that he didn’t have to get up and risk hurting himself. He kept telling Roman to lay down and rest, even though Roman had been doing nothing but that for days. Didn’t Remus have anything he wanted done? Didn’t Remus want to see any tricks? 

Roman wasn’t accustomed to the feeling of not being used for something. It made him feel antsy, and a little sick. 

He couldn’t speak. No matter what Remus and Janus asked him, Roman couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and answer. Speaking felt like betrayal. As terrified as Roman was of them, as much as he despised Patton and Virgil for doing this to him, Roman couldn’t help but feel the intrinsic need to protect them. Roman was the prince before he was the puppy, after all. Princes would never betray their family. And Roman wasn’t an idiot. By now, he knew that for whatever reason, Janus and Remus were angry with his owners. Roman didn’t want his stupidity to get them into any trouble. 

The bedroom door opened and closed gently, once again. Roman didn’t look up. By now, he knew it was Janus. The classy-clad man approached the bed with a tray full of food. 

“I know it’s hard, Roman, but you’ve got to eat,” Janus murmured, setting the tray down and pressing a gentle kiss to Roman’s forehead. “Can you eat even a little bit of this? I made all your favorites.” 

Roman hadn’t been able to choke down a bite for the entire time he’d been here in Janus’ room. He wasn’t quite sure why. He was starving, and the food was so tempting. But at the same time, something about it made his stomach twist. It was too close. Too easy. All Roman had to do was just grab it and bring it to his lips. He was even allowed to use his hands. 

It had to be a trap. Roman could feel it. 

He was going to be a good boy. 

He was going to prove himself worthy. 

“Roman, please,” Janus started to beg, “Please eat. You’re wasting away, and you’re still so weak from your injuries. I’ll make you anything. I’ll get you anything. Anything as long as you eat it.” 

For a long, long time, the room was silent other than the ticking of Janus’ clock, and the anxious tapping of Remus’ boot against the shiny hardwood floor. 

Looking down at the tray, Roman narrowed his eyes as he stared at the tantalizing plates filled with fruit, perfectly cut into cubes. Rice and beans, mixed together with oozing, melty cheese. Freshly popped popcorn, laminated in shiny butter. It was all dangerous, Roman realized, because it was people food. Not puppy food. 

Roman opened his mouth, squinting his eyes tightly as he focused on moving his tongue, numb with fatigued fear, so he could speak the words he needed to say to win the game. He knew that games were always rigged. Games were always unfair. 

But he had to try. 

“Plate,” he mumbled out, his voice heavy with effort. “Green- peas. Peas. Chicken. Little chickens. Little. Candy. Little red candy, little red bad candy.” 

He smiled hopefully up at Janus and Remus, waiting for them to coo at him and pet him, telling him that he did it. That he was such a good boy. Such a sweet puppy. His entire mind was alight. He was sure this was the answer. It had to be. 

But Janus and Remus don’t speak. The room was silent once again, and Roman shivered as Janus and Remus exchanged a look that was so loaded that Roman could practically hear it. 

“Did you give him too many drugs?” Remus hissed accusingly. 

Roman ducked to avoid a blow before realizing that Remus was talking to Janus. He let out a low whine before he could help himself, gritting his teeth tightly so no more sounds would come out. Good puppies don’t make noise unless they’re told to. 

“Of course I didn’t, I only gave him one a day!” Janus shot back, “I probably should have given him more, but I didn’t want anything else messing with his head.” 

“Well, clearly, his head is messed with enough for him to be talking nonsense!” Remus shouted, “Nonsense is my thing! What the hell happened to him, Janus, what the hell are we going to do? What is sitting around in here playing hospital going to do?” 

“He needs medical attention still, and you know it,” Janus glowered, “I get that you’re stressed, but you aren’t entitled to talking all this shit right now.” 

Remus huffed, his shoulders sagging as he stubbornly glared at the floor. Roman tensed, waiting for the smack to come. Waiting for Remus to grovel and apologize. 

“Whatever,” Remus mumbled. 

What the fuck? 

“I think he mentioned peas at first,” Janus continued, and Roman’s eyes bulged out of his head. Janus heard Remus say ‘whatever’ and he didn’t even care? Why wasn’t Remus being punished? 

“Yeah, peas, chicken, and candy,” Remus listed. “But he said he wanted…little chicken and bad candy.” 

Roman nodded once, as fervently as he could muster. The request made perfect sense to him. So why were Janus and Remus still staring at him like he was insane? 

“Okay…” Janus said slowly, “Little chicken. Maybe he wants chicken cut up really small? Why would he want that? Did they fuck up his teeth or something?” 

Remus held Roman’s jaw and opened his mouth, and Roman let him do so with ease, pressing his tongue to the bottom of his mouth obediently as he stared up at Remus expectantly. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting Remus to do, but whatever it was, Remus wasn’t doing it. All he did was stare at his mouth for a minute. 

“I’m not seeing anything obvious,” Remus reported to Janus. “All his teeth are intact, but he looks like he hasn’t brushed them in weeks. His breath smells like a fucking dumpster.” 

“Thanks for the detail,” Janus drawled sarcastically, wrinkling his nose in slight disgust. “At least they left something of him intact. I think we have some ground chicken in the fridge. I’ll heat it up, and try to figure out what’s up with the bad candy.” 

Janus walked out of the room, and it was just Roman and Remus again. Remus stared Roman down, and he shrunk away from his gaze. It was too powerful for Roman’s comfort, too knowing. It felt dangerous, being exposed like this. Helpless. Roman was so tired of feeling like prey, but it was all he knew now. So he carried on. 

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Remus whispered. “I could have helped you. I could have gotten you out of this. I could have beaten all of their asses, and taken you away. Why didn’t you ever call out for help when I walked by? Why did you just- let it happen?” 

His voice sounded angry, but his words got softer and softer, his voice dying at the end of each sentence. He was choking with heartbreak, staring at Roman with reproach, refusing to hope. It was as if he knew his broken brother wouldn’t answer. 

“I don’t care what Janus says,” Remus decided after a moment. “We’re going on an adventure. Come on.” 

Remus picked Roman up, which was clearly a bit of a struggle, not only because Roman was dead weight, but because the two were the exact same size and build. Remus remembered with a bittersweet fondness how Roman used to constantly insist that he was just slightly taller than Remus. Everybody knew he was delusional, Remus included. But it was still cute to watch Roman fuss over it, as if being bigger was some big deal. 

Looking down at Roman now, in this frozen frame of a moment, Remus couldn’t help but think that he looked like the smallest person in the world. 

Remus walked out of Janus’ room with Roman in his arms, before sinking down, sinking up in the Imagination. It had been so long since Roman was here. Blinking, Roman looked around with bleary eyes, feeling like he was in a hazy dream. Remus’ imagination was already disorienting, considering that it was built the exact same way as Roman’s imagination, only mirrored. 

Carefully, with an unusual tenderness, Remus laid Roman down on the grassy hill he had been standing on. Roman’s body, still hurt and exhausted, let itself be manhandled. He was long used to giving up control, and Remus seemed to be acting merciful. The grass was soft and plush, and Roman wracked his brain trying to remember the last time he had seen the sky. 

He had almost forgotten what it looked like. 

“I love coming down here in the evening,” Remus said, his words catching in the gentle breeze and floating away. “It’s nice to look for the stars. They’re there, I promise. It’s just that the sun hasn’t fully set yet, so they’re harder to see. But once you see them twinkling, they become the clearest things in the world. They were always there. You just have to try a little harder to spot them at first.” 

Roman stared up at the sky, eyes wide as he searched for a star. He was hungry, he realized, starving for even a glimpse of beauty. Puppies didn’t get beauty. Puppies didn’t get discovery. 

Roman really wasn’t a puppy anymore, wasn’t he? 

“Stars in the evening,” he mumbled, his breath catching in his throat when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimmer of magic in the sky. “An evening star.” 

---

and that's the end of the first arc!!

be prepared, the next arc coming is a doozy.

i am also putting all of this on ao3 so be prepared for that link!!

thank you all for supporting this series so much, it means a lot to me. all of you whump enjoyers are going to love what's coming in the next arc. the writing style will be a little bit different, patton and virgil are going to be even crazier, and maybe roman and janus will finally get the chance to talk things out.

#evening star #sanders sides #thomas sanders #tss #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #hurt/comfort #comfort #whump #whump writing #pet whump #sanders sides whump #ptsd #catatonia #dissociation