#comfortember2022

[whumpncomfort]

[jessybarnes]

Tell Them, Honey

Title: Tell Them, Honey

Pairing: Stucky x F!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1,235

Tags: Angst, fluff, pining, Steve and Bucky are concerned, Natasha is plotting, Stucky, drinking, metal arm kink, implied fingering, implied sex, explicit language, and I think that's it.

Written For: @comfortember and @stuckybingo

Square(s) Filled: I5 - Metal Arm for Stucky Bingo

Comfortember Day 12: Concern

Beta(s): Just Grammarly

It isn't fair.

How does Fury expect you to focus on anything as an assistant when you're tasked to work with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes?

The moment you met them, you were knocked off of your feet... almost literally.

You were running late to your first day of work after being stuck in traffic. You'd rushed off the elevator and down the hallway toward the conference room to try and get to your morning meeting on time. Right as you rounded the corner, you smacked into Steve's hard chest and lost your balance. If it hadn't been for Bucky catching you, you'd have hit the floor.

Now, almost two years later, you're just as head over heels for them as you were then, if not more so. It's no secret that the two super soldiers are a couple. They've been together for years, and you'd be lying if you said you haven't thought about what it would be like to be fucked by both of them.

It's a miracle that you've been able to hide your feelings for them this long. Normally, you're easy to read, but maybe it's because everyone you work for and with is always so busy.

Tonight is one of the rare occasions where everyone has the evening off, and Tony, of course, isn't letting it go to waste.

It's nothing formal, but you're still in a shimmery cocktail dress, courtesy of Natasha. She practically had to drag you here, and you haven't left the bar since everyone started arriving.

You scan the crowd and smile at all of the familiar faces. Thor, Loki, Stephen, Bruce, Wanda, Vision, Tony, Pepper, Peter, and so many others seem to be having the time of their lives, and after all they do for the world, they deserve it.

Natasha makes you another rum and coke and slides it down the bar into your hand. You swirl the dark liquid around for a moment and bring the glass to your lips just as Steve and Bucky walk up to order a drink.

"Hey, Nat! Can Bucky and I get some of that stuff Thor always drinks?"

Your eyes drag over their muscular frames and you bite your lip. It really should be a crime to look as good as they do. Steve leans against the bar and smiles at you, his action making Bucky turn around. His metal hand brushes your knee and your breath hitches.

"Oh! I'm sorry, doll. I didn't realize how close I was to you."

Natasha rolls her eyes and begins preparing their drinks. It's a wonder that these two haven't picked up the signs because she certainly knows you want them. Hell, she's stood here and watched you oogle them for the past five minutes. Add this to the list of all the other times, and well, it doesn't take a genius to see that you're infatuated.

You set your drink down with a shaky hand and look down at your lap. "It-It's umm... it's okay..." Smooth...real smooth, Y/N. Now he's going to think you're hurt or something.

Bucky furrows his brow, "hey, are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Yep...real fucking smooth. Now you have to talk to them again.

Steve reaches over and tilts your head up with two of his fingers, "you can always tell us anything, sweetheart. Just because you're our assistant doesn't mean you're beneath us."

"I-I'm not hurt. I've just ah...had a long day and am pretty tired."

They don't look convinced, but at least they don't push you any further. Natasha hands over their drinks and shoos them away. Once they've crossed the room she leans across the bar so only you can hear her.

"Tell them, honey."

You choke on your drink, "t-tell who what?"

"Oh, don't play me for a fool, Y/N. You're not as subtle as you think, babe. I, literally, just watched you practically drool over Rogers and Barnes in real time, and it's not the first time either."

You glance over at them for a moment. They're laughing with Thor about something and it makes your heart skip when Bucky leans over to peck Steve on the cheek.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

She sighs and wipes down the bar top with a damp towel, "staring, Y/N."

You shake your head, "Nat, I can't tell them! They're in a relationship already and it doesn't look like they want to add someone else to the picture. Plus, I don't think they even swing my way, so..." You trail off and she points a finger at you.

"Natasha!" You squeak and blush furiously.

"Those two may have been around for over a century, but I can promise you that they've been with a woman before. I can speak from experience with one of them, and the other may have had a few late nights with one of the USO girls."

You gawk at her as she smirks, "you...you mean... w-with umm...you...Bucky?"

She chuckles and pours herself a martini. "Yes, James and I...we were a thing once. It hasn't happened in years though. Not since Steve got his head out of his ass and told Bucky how he felt. Which you also need to do if I'm being honest." She brings the glass to her lips and smirks again, "oh, and his metal fingers? Fucking fantastic."

"What? I'm sure Steve will agree with me." Her smile widens and she nods over your shoulder. "Let's ask him, shall we? Looks like he's coming over for another round."

You give her a pleading look, "no! Oh, my god...please don't ask him!"

"Ask me what?"

Steve leans against the bar and glances between the two of you quizzically. He notes your flushed skin and shaky hands again and grasps your wrist gently, your pulse thrumming against his fingertips.

"Jesus, sweetheart, you're shaking like a leaf. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

You open your mouth to answer him, but Natasha beats you to it.

"Oh, she's fine! I was just telling her how skilled Bucky is with those metal fingers of his. You agree with me, right Steve?"

The blonde super soldier looks deep into your eyes and you swear you see them darken a fraction.

"So, you're curious about Bucky's arm, hm?"

"Who's curious about my arm?" The man himself comes up behind Steve and wraps his flesh hand around his waist.

Oh, god...just please let the ground open up and swallow me whole...

You bury your face in your hands and shake your head. "Just, please...forget I was even here. I-I'm sorry... I'm just gonna go to bed."

As you get up to leave, Steve steps into your path and blocks your way. The smirk on his face doesn't ease your mind in the least bit.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I think we should talk about this, Y/N. Bucky deserves to know what you and Natasha have been talking about over here, now don't you agree?"

Bucky raises an eyebrow curiously, and you nervously play with your hands, "I...um...yes?"

"Good girl," Steve praises and places his big hand on the small of your back.

"Come on, doll, we'll walk you to your room."

Bucky puts an arm on your shoulder and Natasha watches as the three of you head off toward the elevators.

She chuckles and shakes her head, "and my work here is done."

Tagging: @sarahrogersevans @chrisevansdaughter @brandyywar @nerdygingermoose88

[uncozy-unrose]

Comfortember Day Three : Warm Food

Fandom: MCU/Captain America ♡ Main: Steve and Bucky ♡ Ship: Stucky ♡ Features: Domestic super-soldiers, Depression-Era Reminiscing, sneezing, losing voices, chilly autumn gardening, and love in the form of cooking.

Read on AO3

Somewhere, in an undisclosed stretch of land in upstate New York, two super-soldiers embarked on the task of harvesting vegetables from their garden. The chill in the autumn air indicated that it was time to begin pulling carrots up from their safe cloaks of soil and dusting off beets to prepare them for pickling later on.

Maybe Bucky will have developed a taste for them this year.

 Usually, this would be a simple feat. As previously mentioned, they were super-soldiers after all. How hard would it be to pluck an apple from their tree when you could literally rip the trunk in half with your bare hands?

Well, today, that aforementioned autumn chill was catching up with the pair. The change in the seasons, specifically from summer to fall, usually left them feeling achy, with a wide range of other symptoms including Bucky’s raw throat and Steve’s unrelenting congestion. 

A few of their more scientifically inclined friends, namely Tony, Bruce, and Shuri, came to the conclusion that their enhanced immune systems were just overreacting to the new strains of influenza and rhinovirus that peak in the fall and winter in the northeast…

Bucky and Steve usually stopped paying much attention after that, the explanations getting longer and longer each year. All that they knew was that they felt terrible, and it was best just to hole up in their home for a while and ride their illnesses out together. This proved infinitely more beneficial than being laid up in some technologically advanced medical facility where microbiologists would come in to steal their used tissues. 

Yes, the home that they had made their own a few years back, was a much better place to recoup. The pair had been fighting off fevers for the past few days and were finally starting to get out of their fog, allowing them to do something a bit more active today. They decided that a bit of light gardening and collecting some fresh vegetables for a warm stew would be an appropriate use of their time and somewhat renewed energy.

Steve, sinuses still riddled with pressure, found it painful to smile, but couldn’t help himself as he watched Bucky. The other man was haphazardly bundled in a crewneck fleece and a knit scarf, the fringe at the end dragging in the soil as he reached for the herbs in front of him.

“Who knew that James Buchanan Barnes would have such a green thumb?”

Bucky kept his gaze down, letting out a barely audible chuckle followed by a few weak coughs. He continued to pluck sprigs of rosemary off of the plant.

“Well technically, it’s a vibranium thumb…”

Steve rolled his eyes, but looked on in adoration. He placed his chin on Bucky’s shoulder and snaked his sweater-clad arms around the brunette’s waist. Brushing the dirt off of his scarf, he kissed Bucky’s jaw, noting the warmth of his skin. 

“Very funny… I guess I’m just jealous.”

Bucky tipped his chin up and to the left, catching a glance at two warm, half lidded blue eyes and stringy flaxen hair. He flashed Steve a smirk.

“Jealous?”

“Yes, jealous! Look at these baskets!” Steve, keeping his head on Bucky’s shoulder, thrust his hand forward to emphasize the bountiful harvest before them. “You planted the carrots, and the parsnips, and the herbs. You even grew that funny looking squash.”

“Okay, well you really impressed me with those potatoes…”

“I better have! If I didn’t I’m pretty sure Sarah Rogers herself would have come to haunt me.”

A few breathy chuckles were punctuated by a sniffle from Steve. A solemn silence then fell over the garden.

“I miss your mom.”

Bucky lifted his flesh hand, warmer to the touch than the other, and placed it on Steves, still resting on his abdomen. Steve threaded his right fingers through Bucky’s, pulling his vibranium hand in with his left.

“Me too”, Steve and Bucky began gently rocking side to side, “I think about her a lot when I’m out here. She would have loved this garden.”

“Hey, remember when she would take us to the gardens in the city when we were younger? The ones they made in old lots?”

“So people could feed their families, of course I remember. Sometimes that’s the only way we’d get food that week. Ma also made me pick tomatoes just to feel useful for once.”

“Yeah, and I got stuck trucking your full wagon up the hill. You were always running up behind and sneezing your ass off because you were allergic to the flowering vegetables. And the trees… and the sun.”

“Alright alright, I get it…”

As if on cue, Steve stifled two harsh sneezes into the crook of Bucky’s neck, barely scrambling out of his embrace with the other man before a third overtook him, let out forcefully, but ragged. 

“Yeah! Like that! Bless you, doll.”

“Thangk you…” Steve ran his sweater sleeve delicately under his nose, his voice rounding out with congestion. Bucky frowned.

“We should get you inside, it’s not getting any warmer out here and your cheeks are getting flushed again.”

Steve softened his features, supplying a pathetic sniffle. His shoulders dropped and his head tipped to one side, looking at Bucky with a mix of fondness and sentiment.

“I also remember you talking to me like that when we were younger. ‘Oh Stevie, your cheeks are flushed’, ‘have you got your handkerchief, Steve?’, ‘Oh doll, did you forget your gloves?”, the blonde nudged playfully.

“Are you kidding me? Have you thought about your old self lately? Its a medical miracle that you made it through the things you have. Those concerns were warranted.” 

Steve stepped back, throwing his hands up in feigned surrender. With a wet chuckle he clapped a hand on Bucky’s back.

“I know, angel” Steve reassured, “You know I know. I kid because you don’t have to worry anymore. Not in the same way, at least. I can take care of you now, too. Especially when your voice sounds like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like a lawnmower!”

“Alright, alright- let’s get inside and both get warmed up.”

The pair gathered the baskets, brimming with a colorful harvest and made their way up the path toward the house. They maneuvered through the door and into the kitchen, where they began the process of sorting and washing the vegetables for their stew. 

Bucky took the job of chopping, as he argued that his knife skills were superior. Steve wanted to refute, but realized that using a sharp blade while managing fits of sneezing was probably not a wise choice. Instead, Steve sautéed carrots, onions, and celery in a pan while also bundling sachets of herbs, stealing adoring glances at the man accompanying him in the kitchen. 

He wasn’t used to this much abundance, and he knew Bucky felt similarly, but was pleased with the way they could use this meal to come together and share their love. Each of them contributing flavors and skills, stealing swift kisses and gentle touches as they warmed the bread and set out bowls and spoons. Bucky’s laugh inaudible as the steam from the pot made Steve sneeze again.

They mutually agreed to eat their meal on the couch in front of the fire, while shrouding themselves in thick flannel blankets. They recalled more memories of their childhood, swapping stories that made their eyes shine with nostalgia -finally feeling comfortable enough with their presents to look back on their pasts.  

As the night stretched on, and Bucky’s voice faded from an abrasive rasp to a painful whisper and Steve’s aching sinuses made it hard to keep his head up, they slowly came to a silence. Empty bowls of stew lay on the coffee table and the fire died down to only embers, leaving the pair of super-soldiers entwined on their sofa- finally able to just relax, to just be ill. To finally be together, and to be home.

To finally be human.

[just-two-blokes]

Comfortember day 2 - "Stressed" A Thomas Barrow Oneshot

'Mrs Hughes, please remember to cover the tables outside with white tablecloths before you put the fruit baskets on them. Miss Baxter, have you found the hats for Lady Mary and Lady Edith? They should have arrived by post today.'

With aching feet and sweaty hair, Thomas Barrow makes his way through the other servants into the kitchen, only to drop onto one of the chairs with remaining strength. His legs burn as if he has completed a five-kilometre run.

'No wonder,' he thinks to himself. He's already been up since half past five in the morning, preparing for this damned Crawley family garden party.

In his mind, he goes through his tally sheet for this afternoon. Lady Mary has not skimped on her birthday and has invited more people than Thomas has ever met in his entire life.

'So… Anna and Phyllis are upstairs to help Lady Mary and Lady Edith dress. Andy and Albert are setting up the rest of the chairs in the garden. Mrs Patmore is preparing the appetisers…

The appetisers!'

As if stung by a tarantula, Thomas jumps up from his seat. Andy should have taken the appetisers outside long ago! But it seems he is still busy setting up the garden chairs.

Thomas rubs his tired eyes in resignation. This job will eventually cost him his sanity.

Ignoring the slowly developing headache, he stumbles into the kitchen, hastily looking around for the trays with the appetisers. But the only thing that catches his eye is Mrs Patmore, who looks at him with a worried look.

'Mr Barrow… Is everything all right?'

'The appetisers! Where are they?' Thomas' voice sounds urgent, almost desperate, as his gaze searches every available corner of the room. Mrs Patmore puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

'Slow down, Mr Barrow. Daisy has just taken the hors d'oeuvres outside. You were standing next to her when she passed by. Didn't you notice?'

She doesn't get any further, because Thomas lets out a loud sigh and literally collapses on the floor next to the sink, ignoring the cook's uneasy gaze. His hands shake uncontrollably and his legs feel like they are made of lead. Oh God, what has he gotten himself into here?

When Lord Grantham put him in charge of the garden party, Thomas thought it would be a reward for all the hard work he had done over the last few months in an effort to replace his predecessor as best he could. Now he gets the feeling that this is more like a tough test to see if he is really up to the job.

As his eyes keep losing focus and he notices his perception blurring around him, he suddenly feels a pair of gentle hands lifting him off the hard stone floor and sliding him carefully onto a chair in the kitchen.

A slim porcelain cup slides into his field of vision along with something that looks suspiciously like his favourite biscuit.

Confused, he lifts his throbbing head and can't stop his jaw from dropping in an astonished gesture as he recognises Mrs Patmore, who pats his shoulder in a motherly gesture.

'You just rest for a while, Mr Barrow. You look as if you are about to fall into the birthday cake and that would probably not be the best present for Lady Mary. Besides, everything's all set and you don't want to look like a wreck when Mr Ellis arrives, do you?'

His cynical retort literally sticks in Thomas' throat when Richard's name is mentioned. It is true that he has invited the valet to come to the party. Lady Mary has asked him for a 'private' parley and informed him that servants may also invite their relatives, as the celebration is more of a summer party than a birthday party.

Of course, Thomas didn't need to be told twice and grabbed pen and ink in the first free minute to tell Richard the news. But the only person who knows about it is Phyllis.

And Phyllis would never…

Mrs Patmore just gives him a smug smile. From the looks of it, his puzzled expression speaks volumes.

'Mr Barrow… You should know by now that the walls here have ears. Besides… forgive me… even a blind man with a cane notices what's wrong with you as soon as someone just looks at you.'

With these words she turns to the kitchen door.

'And by the way. Tell Mr Ellis to please inform me what his favourite dish is. I always put my guests' wishes first and I expect we'll be seeing more of him here in the near future.'

With one last affectionate smile to the butler, she disappears through the kitchen door, leaving a baffled Thomas Barrow behind.

His staff never cease to surprise him….

[sparrowsage]

Comfortember Day 1: Hugs

A Small Step Forward

This takes place during Sparrow's Recovery Arc in my series 'The Warehouse'. It's a short, simple piece, but as the month goes on, more pieces should come out to help shape his recovery journey.

Huge thanks to @oddsconvert for helping me beta this piece, as well as @darkthingshappen and @whumpcereal for being amazing cheerleaders!

TW: Brief mentions of past abuse, previous captivity, recovery whump

Taglist: @mannerofwhump, @honey-is-mesi, @painful-pooch (if you'd like to be added, let me know!

Sparrow didn’t know what brought him to remove the earbuds from his ears, but he was glad that he did. He had only been living with Felix for around two and a half weeks, and while things were moving along at a somewhat slow pace, Sparrow had learned to care about the other, which he didn’t think would happen. 

It was around 9:30pm, and according to the routine Felix had, he should have been in his room reading, but Sparrow could hear something else, something that sounded like quiet crying. It was a sound he could easily point out; there were many pets at the Warehouse that cried quietly, hoping not to cause a disturbance in case the Keepers heard, but needed to let out their fear. Over time, it had become background noise to him and he had stopped paying attention, but hearing it now, in the apartment, made Sparrow concerned. 

What would Felix have to be afraid of that would make him cry like this?

He set his iPod and earbuds down beside him on his bed, trying his best to stay quiet as he swung his legs over the side, making his way to the door. He turned the knob and slowly opened it, peeking down the hallway in the direction of Felix's room. The door to his friend's room was slightly ajar, allowing the quiet sobs to travel into the hallway. 

Sparrow made his way over to Felix’s bedroom, standing outside of the door, listening. Sparrow could hear the pain and fear in the cries Felix was trying to keep silent, the way he’d go silent for a few moments as he tried to suck in any kind of breath before the quiet sobbing would continue. 

After listening to Felix for a moment, hesitating on whether or not he should go into his room, he knocked quietly on the door.

“Felix?” Sparrow asked softly, staying on the other side of the door. Sparrow had learned that it was respectful to not enter someone else's room without permission. Plus, Felix always gave him the same courtesy, always staying on the opposite side if he had said no to the other entering. 

He heard a quiet squeak of surprise come from inside the room and the frantic rustling of fabric. After a few moments, Sparrow heard Felix respond, “Yeah? C-come in.” 

Sparrow opened the door slowly, going to turn on the overhead light since the room was covered in darkness. When he clicked the light on, Felix tried to shield his face from view, but Sparrow saw what he wanted to hide. His face was red and puffy, the cuffs of his shirt wet from trying to wipe the tears away. 

“Felix? You okay?” Sparrow asked, moving towards the bed. He highly doubted his friend was okay, it hadn’t sounded like he was, but he wanted to ask anyway. Felix didn’t look up, his breathing still irregular as he tried to stop crying. 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, what's up?” 

Sparrow sat on the corner of the bed, looking over Felix before his eyes darted to the covers of the bed. “You didn’t sound okay,” he said, concern lining his voice. “I’ve heard people cry like that before, usually it’s because they’re trying not to be heard but are afraid.” 

He lifted his head, trying to catch Felix’s gaze. “What’s got you so afraid that you’re crying like this?” 

Felix let out a shaky breath, wiggling his fingers slightly. “I uh, it’s nothing, just me overthinking things I shouldn’t be overthinking.” He looked over in Sparrow’s direction, eyes closed with a smile on his face. A smile Sparrow knew was fake. 

“See? I-I’m fine,” Felix told him, but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than Sparrow. 

Sparrow could hear in his voice how upset he was, the way it shook with the threat of more tears and how his breath hitched slightly at the end of his sentence. He fiddled with his fingers for a moment, not knowing entirely what to do, before he decided on something. 

He shifted himself up onto the bed more, moving across it towards Felix in a quick, fluid movement before embracing the other in a hug, a proper hug, holding him tight while burying his face in the other's shoulder. 

This caught Felix by complete surprise, his arms slightly out by his sides as he tried to register what was happening. Sparrow never engaged in physical contact and Felix could understand why with what had been explained to him. He was open to it, but he had wanted Sparrow to initiate it on his own time once he was ready and comfortable. While he had a small doubt that Sparrow wasn't 100% ready for physical contact, Felix was quite grateful for the hug.

A second or two passed before Felix returned the hug, tears spilling out of his eyes as he finally let out a loud, proper sob. 

“I-I’m just s-so scared I-I’m not pro-providing the help and safety you need,” Felix said in between sobs. “T-that I can’t help yo-you the way you need h-help.” 

Sparrow rubbed Felix’s back softly, shaking his head a little, enough for Felix to feel it. He had no idea what to say or do here, but he tried to think of something anyway. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m okay, aren’t I?” Sparrow asked. “If you weren’t able to help me, why would Alex have suggested this whole thing? He knew you could help, and you have.” Sparrow paused for a moment, trying to push himself to say the next few words. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

It took Felix a moment or two before he broke the hug, but when he did, he looked at Sparrow, who returned the gaze. It was the first time they had held eye contact for longer than a second. 

“R-really?” Felix asked. 

Sparrow nodded, giving his friend a soft smile. “It’ll be okay, promise.” 

Felix returned the smile before going in for another hug, Sparrow happily returning the favor. 

[alidravana]

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Ship: Jake "Hangman" Seresin/Javy "Coyote" Machado

Length/Rating: ~2K, Teen

Tags: All the Hugs, Touch Starved, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-sexual Intimacy, Friends to Lovers, Romantic Fluff

Summary:

Jake curtly shook his head as he side stepped Javy on the way to the F-18. He and Javy had been friends, been wingmen for so long now that he knew that Javy had planned to lean in for a hug.

How he knew, well, that was a bit of a story.

My entry for Day 1 for @comfortember and Day 24 for @flufftober: Hugs/All the Hugs. Thanks to the wonderful @sugaredmayhem for editing!

Please enjoy reading (here on A03)!

[thegreenleavesofspring]

Something went squish beneath his foot and Fëanáro stopped short and closed his eyes and prayed to whatever Vala might be listening that he had not just stepped on another one of the Ambarussa’s pets. The animal would have died quickly, if so, but the last time one of their myriad squicky things had gone missing, oh sweet stars, wailing and tears and accusations and dramatics for days. And then the lizard’s tail and bits of skin had been found where Huan slept and of course Turko had taken the side of his beloved dog and it was the first time since the twins were born that they had been angry with him and they had given him and the usually-adored pup the silent treatment for months.

Fëanáro tried to think. What was the current animal du jour? Ah. Tadpoles and pollywogs. The boys had decided to see if they could raise frogs and toads from spawn to adulthood. They were on their third batch – their first one was happily hopping around the house and competing for bugs and Yavanna knew what else – and if Fëanáro found small amphibians swimming in his forge water one more time, well. He wasn’t sure precisely what he’d do but it would be drastic.

But if he had stepped on one of the innumerable hoppy-things that were currently denizens of the house (and the garden and the pond and his forge and probably Nerdanel’s workshop although she claimed she had a secret to keeping them out but she had merely smiled slyly when he had rather desperately asked what it was so he very much doubted that she did), then perhaps there was hope that the twins wouldn’t notice that one was missing.

…on the other hand, they had put differently colored dots on the backs of each creature in the first batch, so it was completely possible they would realize it was gone. This was a gloomy thought. He would have to bribe them with something. Perhaps a wind-up toy frog that would hop and croak and not go squish if stepped on inadvertently (or advertently, his boys had been known to do such things in fits of pique before, although of course this carried the risk of further outrage and revenge, and so was discouraged.) He rather glumly mused that this idea would probably be met with scorn.

Bracing himself for the likelihood of half a year’s worth of tantrums, Fëanáro lifted his foot and peered tentatively at the substance squished between his toes.

…oh. It was just a baked apple that had fallen out of somebody’s pocket after breakfast.

[lucky-ladybugs-lovelies]

Comfortember Polarshipping fic

For #8: Afraid to Ask for Help

[taruchinator]

🌷 Teen And Up Audiences

🌷 2.4k Words

🌷 Day 8 | Afraid Of Asking For Help for @comfortember

Ever since the world ended, Eda had been having the same dream. Or rather, the same nightmare.

As people began running from the draining spell in the distance, The Owl Lady would walk aimlessly across the courtyard, until her gaze fell upon Luz and King— her kids. Their tear-stained eyes were the last thing she would see before waking up in cold sweat.

There was no need to bother anyone with such trivial things, especially if she could handle it. But of course, if there was one person Edalyn Clawthorne couldn't con, it was Raine Whispers.

Hey everybody! Alice here, this time cooking up some angst for good old Comfortember! :D

I always wanted to do something angsty with these two since we all know Eda has trust issues and doesn't want people to see her weaknesses, at least until Raine shows up in her life.

Had lots of fun with this one, and I'm hoping to do a few extra days cause most of the prompts are honestly very sweet! Hope you'll stick around for those~ 🎻💖

Ever since the world ended, Eda had been having the same dream. Or rather, the same nightmare.

She would recall the burning sensation that spread across her now missing arm, as her curse served as a catalyst to try and prevent Belos from accomplishing his goal of erasure of magic. The Owl Beast would finally serve a noble purpose. She didn't mind the pain nor the fact that she would probably disappear in the process, so long as the world was safe.

But of course, like most things in her life, it didn't go as planned. Raine had been caught, and the duo would merely exchange a look of despair as they were placed among the other Coven Leaders to unleash the demon spawn that was the draining spell.

Everything would become blurry after that.

As people began running for their lives in the distance, The Owl Lady would walk aimlessly across the courtyard, until her gaze fell upon Luz and King— her kids. Their cries for help were enough to squeeze Eda's heart into action as she ran towards them, shouting their names and reaching to no avail.

They were always so close yet so far.

Tear-stained eyes were the last thing she would see before waking up in cold sweat. Waking up to the aftermath of that horrible reality, always praying that it was just a sick joke and that one day she'd be back in the Owl House with the ones she loved.

But that day would never come.

“You kids better be safe, you hear me? At least until mama gets there…” Eda whispered to herself with her gaze locked on the night sky.

After having particularly bad nights, the wild witch would leave the safety of her home and wander through the ruins of what used to be Bonesborough. She was rather thankful that The Collector didn't seem to be as active at night (perhaps even supernatural creatures needed their rest).

This particular time, Eda had decided to seek comfort in one of the places most dear to her heart: a familiar hill filled with flowers as far as the eye could see. Or at least, that's how it used to be.

Nowadays the field was rather empty, void of the flora that once made it such a wonderful spot to both her and her loving partner. Weeds were far more common, and it seemed as if it hadn't been taken care of for a while, which was truly a shame. But being realistic, nobody had ‘taking care of my garden’ at the top of their priority list at the moment.

“Hoo!” Owlbert peeked his head outside of Eda's coat with a frown. The wild witch scratched at the top of the palisman's head with concern. “What is it Owlbert?”

That's when she heard it.

It was faint— so faint she wouldn't have sensed it without Owlbert, but it was definitely there. The sound of footsteps crunching against leaves.

In a swift motion, The Owl Lady used an invisibility glyph to blend to her surroundings, while summoning her staff in the process. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long for the intruder to reveal themselves.

The shadowy figure seemed rather hesitant with their steps. Were they looking for someone? She didn't have time to ponder on that though, since it was important for her to find an exit undetected if this person was indeed one of The Collector's followers.

“Are you just going to hide there?”

The calm voice caught her off-guard as she heard it being whispered in her face. How did they move so fast? She'd been staring at them not even a second ago! The shock was more than enough to knock the wind out of her as she gasped, rendering the invisibility glyph useless.

Trying to not let it deter her, Eda immediately wedged a distance between herself and the mysterious figure using Owlbert, pushing at their chest and taking a stance with adrenaline as the fuel. She wasn't going down without a fight.

Eyes locked— gold meeting teal. That's when Eda realized she was being threatened by a very familiar violin.

“Eda?” Raine's astonished voice broke the silence once more, this time The Owl Lady finding it warm and comforting. Their expression quickly changed to something sour, however. “What are you doing here? It's dangerous to wander alone at night, you know that!”

Calming down from the high of potential danger, Owlbert reverted to his original form and laid on Eda's shoulder as the woman sighed in relief. “Raine! You're one to talk! I was perfectly fine by myself until someone had to swoop in and make me waste a perfectly good glyph. Why are you out so late, hmm?”

The witch in question made their weapon disappear into thin air before crossing their arms with a raised eyebrow. “I'm on my shift.”

“Oh.”

After The Collector's takeover, the remaining strongest witches had decided to band together with patrols around The Boiling Isles. These were implemented by the remaining Coven Leaders— Raine included— as a way to keep the citizens safe during the trying times they were living.

Eda was one of the witches on that list, actually. Her shift wasn't until morning.

But it seemed that she didn't recall her ex-lover's schedule thanks to the thoughts plaguing her mind.

“I sensed a strong magical source coming from here, so I decided to take a closer look. To think I'd find you of all people… It's kind of ironic. Have you… come here before?” Raine relaxed slightly after seeing Eda's predicament, with a slight hint of pride in their voice, until it got softer with that question lingering in the air.

Sitting down on one of the patches of grass, the woman waved one hand dismissively. “Not really. Just needed a nice place to cool off and my feet brought me here. Don't think too much of it.”

A soft chuckle escaped the bard's lips as they sat down next to her. They placed one hand on the ground for support, dangerously close to hers. “I wasn't thinking too much, I just found it a peculiar choice. So, what exactly did you need to ‘cool off’ for? Tough day with the trainees?”

Eda's widened slightly. She let that slip up. Adverting her gaze sideways, she gave her response. “Yeah, the little rascals have potential but I guess the years are catching up to me, despite what my dazzling looks might say!”

But of course, if there was one person Edalyn Clawthorne couldn't con, it was Raine Whispers.

They stared at her for a moment, only to have a frown decorate their expression as the tone shifted to concern once more. “Is something wrong?”

She couldn't have them figure her out. “What are you talking about, you dingus?”

“It's clearly something else that's bothering you. And to be honest, I've noticed you've been a lot more tired during our meetings than usual. I know you think they're boring, but it's not really like you.” Raine explained it as if it was the most logical thing in the world, but it all just made Eda squirm even more.

“If I'm more tired than usual it shouldn't be none of your business. I mean with the whole Collector thing, can you blame me for not getting enough sleep? I'm surprised you're still kicking!”

“Of course I'm having trouble! Everyone is! But what's important is that we're there for each other when we need it. I… I thought we were past this. Past the secrets, I mean.” The bard let their gaze linger on theirs and Eda's hands, until eventually pulling away slightly to fiddle with their thumbs, most likely contemplating whether they said the right thing.

Eda knew what they were talking about.

The Owl Beast.

The entire reason for their breakup and the wedge that grew between them, and it all boiled down to Eda being too stubborn to ask for help in the first place. She just couldn't accept the fact that there was a problem she couldn't solve on her own, and it made her feel weak, impotent and so utterly useless.

Which in turn made her take it out on the one person she loved most in the whole world.

She thought she'd moved past the secret keeping too. Some habits died hard, she guessed. But Eda couldn't let it happen again, no matter how much her gut told her otherwise. She had to be truthful. At least for their sake.

“I… I've been having nightmares.” The woman left it at that, as she pulled her knees closer to her chest. Owlbert snuggled against her cheek as a sign of comfort, most likely sensing the distress his owner was in.

Surprised that they got a response, Raine widened their eyes slightly, but then quickly refrained themselves by scooting closer and offer support. “What kind of nightmares?”

When the question left the bard's lips, Eda could feel a dam inside of her breaking down— and as the tears began to pour, it was only then that the woman realized just how much she had yearned for someone to listen. “T-They're about… Luz and King! I-I see them, Raine! Every night, begging for me to save them from the draining spell and I-I just can't! I don't make it in time and then they… they-!”

Arms wrapped themselves around the woman— making her feel safe and warm and loved. It didn't take long for her to give in and return the embrace she so desperately craved, sobbing into the other witch's arms as they stayed silent. When was the last time she'd let herself grieve like this? At best, Eda could only recall when she was a teen, and had just been cursed.

Ever since that moment, she'd find herself wearing a mask— the mask of the persona known as The Owl Lady— all in an attempt to convince herself that she needed no one, a misconception she had luckily been pulled out of the moment she met Luz, and had the human worm her way into the old witch's heart.

It was still a strange feeling, but not an unpleasant one.

A few more minutes went by until Eda had calmed down, and thankfully Raine hadn't pried for more details. They were patient and understanding, as always. It wasn't until they made sure Eda was ready to continue with her story that they decided to pop a question.

“How come you never told me any of this?” They didn't sound mad. If anything, they sounded genuinely confused.

“I didn't want you thinking I couldn't handle it… Or that the big bad beast was gonna get outta hand.” Eda mumbled under her breath, leaving out another reason being that she didn't want to worry them. Although she was pretty sure that one was implicit.

Raine was silent for a moment, until eventually they spoke with a hint of mischief in their voice. “Well, if they're your kids, then we've got nothing to worry about!”

“Huh?” Eda stared in confusion at the statement as Raine smirked in return.

“I know it's not the same, but if there's one thing I know about you, it's that you're resilient. You never give up! And from what you've told me, those two are just like you in that way… No matter where they are, they're definitely trying to get home.”

Eda could only stare with mouth agape, until she finally allowed herself to laugh. They were right. Luz was likely making her way back through some weird glyph combination as she made friends along the way, with King using his heart of gold to gather his own companions that would help him on his journey back.

She trusted those kids, there was never a doubt about it. But there were times when she didn't trust herself, and those were the moments in which Raine would come in and work their magic.

“Pfff you're right. Those two are too stubborn to give it up…” The woman turned to her companion with a soft smile. “Thank you, Raine. I needed that.”

With that unexpected response, a tint of pink spread across the bard's cheeks as they turned sideways. “W-Well, that's what friends are for, right?”

A blush of her own appeared on the tip of her ears as Eda turned downwards, but tried brushing it off with a snarky remark. “Right. Friends… Anyway! It's getting late and I believe someone should make sure this poor helpless citizen makes it home safe and sound~”

Recovering from their own embarrassment, Raine merely rolled their eyes as they stood up and extended their hand towards the woman to get up. “If this is your way of getting me to walk you home, then you're getting rusty, Edalyn.”

The comment made her widen her eyes and quickly slap the offered hand away as she stood on her own. Who gave them the right to make her feel like that simply by saying her name? “Like you're one to talk! The bard who couldn't even perform in front of the single trainee from last week!”

“You know I have stage fright, why even bring that up?” They began walking ahead of her.

“It ain't fair for only one of us to be embarrassed, Rainstorm. You better take responsibility for that!” Eda wagged an accusatory finger at the witch's chest, which only caused the other to laugh again.

“As you wish. Then why not tell embarrassing stories on our midnight stroll? It should keep our minds occupied.”

Eda could only smile in return. She always appreciated them wanting to make her feel better. “Oh, it's on! I ain't letting you live these down!”

As the duo walked side by side back to The Owl House, Eda gave another quick glance towards the sky. The clouds had parted and the stars twinkled in all their glory— if she didn't know any better, she'd think it was a message just for her, and a perfectly clear one at that: Everything would be okay.

And she wanted to believe that. She truly did.

Because the proof was right there, and if she ever were to forget, she had someone who was willing to remind her as many times as it took.

With fingers interlocked, the duo disappeared into the woods— newfound hope resting in their hearts.

✧ TWITTER ✧ INSTA ✧ AO3 ✧ WATTPAD ✧

[whumpncomfort]

Imagine Me & You (2006)

[jessybarnes]

You're Not Alone

Title: You're Not Alone

Pairing: Chris Evans x F!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: Around 900 maybe? I'm sorry I didn't count...

Tags: Angst, fluff, panic attacks, crying, hard to breathe, stress, afraid to ask for help, and I think that's it.

Written For: @comfortember

Day 8: Afraid To Ask For Help

Dedicated To: @sarahrogersevans and @chrisevansdaughter because they're amazing and I love them ♥️

Beta(s): None

You shut your eyes tight as your try and regulate your breathing.

These stress-induced panic attacks are happening more frequently, and it's getting to the point of being unbearable.

Between your college exams, your hours being cut at work, and trying to figure out how you're going to pay your bills, it's taken a huge toll on your body and mind. You know that's what's causing them, and you also know you should ask for help, but you don't. You never do.

Because you're scared.

The only person you trust with your heart and feelings is your best friend, Chris, and even just the thought of being this vulnerable around him makes your anxiety that much worse.

Your knuckles are white as you hunch over the sink in your bathroom. The tightness in your chest makes it feel like you can't draw in a breath and it's then that you realize it's never been this bad before.

You sink to the floor and pull your phone out of your pocket with a shaky hand. You don't want to, but as scary as it is, you find Chris’s contact and hit the call button. The fear of not being able to breathe outweighs all of the other apprehension you have.

He answers on the second ring, his voice cheerful, "hey, Y/N! What's up?"

You close your eyes tight again, forcing out what you think is a complete sentence.

"C-Chris?....please....need you....c-can't breathe..."

His whole demeanor changes and his blood runs cold when he hears how distressed you sound.

"Give me ten minutes, okay? Please stay on the phone. You don't have to talk... just... please... please don't end the call."

You drop your phone on the floor next to you and try desperately to take in a deep breath, but to no avail. Every second that passes makes you feel like you're that much closer to losing the battle.

You don't even hear your front door open or Chris call out your name. He wanders aimlessly through your house until he finally finds you.

He opens the door and immediately gets on his knees in front of you, his big, warm hands cradling your face.

"Y/N? I'm here now it's okay... come on, honey, you've gotta breathe for me." His eyes scan your body for any injuries, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he finds none.

You shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut again, "can't..."

"You can, sweetheart. You're so strong, baby... I know you can do this. Come on, do it with me. Breathe in through your nose, hold it for two seconds, and then slowly breathe out through your mouth."

You look into his beautiful, blue eyes and even though it seems impossible, you try for him. His fingertips ghost over your cheek as you take slow deep breaths. Chris coaches you through them, making sure you're matching what he's doing, and soon you can feel yourself starting to calm down.

"That's it, baby... you're doing so good, Y/N."

Chris wipes the stray tears from under your eyes and sits back against the wall before pulling you into his lap. You lay against his chest and listen to the steady thump of his heartbeat while he gently rubs your back.

"Just keep breathing like this for me, okay? I've got you, sweetheart."

"...Thank you."

Chris presses a sweet kiss in your hair and holds you a bit tighter, "no need to thank me, Y/N. You're my best friend, and I love you."

You swallow the lump in your throat and tilt your head so you're looking up at him.

"I just...I didn't want to burden you with this. You're so busy with work and family and I...I just didn't want you to lose an opportunity or something because of what I'm going through..."

Chris shakes his head, "now, you listen to me, okay? You're someone I care about. We've been friends for years, and no job, no movie, or TV show is ever going to take precedence over you. So, you can get that thought out of that pretty, little head of youre, okay baby?"

He cups your cheek and looks deeply into your eyes. "I don't care what day it is. I don't care what time it is. If you need anything...absolutely anything, you call me. I'm always going to be there for you. Day, night, rain, sleet, snow, it doesn't matter. I'll drop everything for you, honey."

You hug him tight and bury your face in his neck.

"I love you too, Chris. So much..."

[uncozy-unrose]

Comfortember Day One : Hugs

Fandom: Stranger Things ♡ Main: Jonathan (non-minor) ♡ Ship: Stonathan ♡ Features: Old Injury flare ups, hiding pain, rainy day cuddling, grumpy baby vs sunshine baby, hot water bottles, and warm blankets.

Read on AO3

Sometimes it worsened when it he was overworked. Sometimes, it was when it was cold. Most of the time it was when it rained. 

Today it was all three. 

Jonathan lay still on the couch, eyes firmly pressed closed in an effort to calm his breathing. Every breath seemed to make the gnawing ache in his back even worse. A ratty pillow was shoved under his spine in a desperate attempt to keep him in a comfortable position, and a thick crochet blanket was draped over his frame to provide some much needed warmth. It also served to hide his hands, which where tensing and releasing with each wave of pain. 

It had been a few years now since a metal stool had been hammered into Jonathan’s back as he licked the cold linoleum floor of the Hawkins Memorial Hospital. A few years should be enough to quell the repercussions of fighting a minion of the mind flayer, but he could still feel the pain as clearly as he could see the horrifically violent face of Bruce Lowe.

Jonathan could hear the rain begin to get worse outside, coming down in vicious sheets. the wind howled loudly, almost concerningly so, and Jonathan audibly cursed as he realized he had not closed the kitchen window after an incident with burning his eggs this morning. He cursed even louder when he hastily rolled off of the couch and began to sprint toward the kitchen, causing his back to scream out wildly. One hand flew out to grip the counter in order to steady himself, and the other reached for the top of the window, but Jonathan was unable to muster up enough strength to push down hard enough to close it. 

A bright voice, contradicting the tone of the current situation, rang out as Jonathan heard the front door swing open and bang into the wall behind it. 

“Honey! I’m home!”

Jonathan stiffened at the noise. Straightening his frame to the best of his abilities, he swallowed his pain and called out to his boyfriend. 

“Steve!”

Jonathan had been hiding these miserable back flare ups from Steve for forever. That wasn’t the always plan, bet then again, dating Steve Harrington wasn’t the plan either. If you ask Jonathan, he would say he wasn’t technically hiding his plight from the other man, he simply just hadn’t had a good time to mention it. If you ask anyone else though, they would say that it was a combination of Jonathan’s reticence and general need to not be a bother.

A mess of dripping brown hair turned the corner, and with it, a smiling Steve. His gleeful expression promptly fell as he saw Jonathan struggling with the window, rainwater pooling around his feet as it blew fiercely through the frame. Steve gripped the window with both hands and helped push it closed, hearing Jonathan’s hearty sigh of relief when the deed was done. He noticed his gray t-shirt speckled with raindrops and his poor socks were drenched.

“Hey, are you alright, Byers? You’re soaked!” 

Jonathan let out a choked laugh. 

“Are you kidding? I’m soaked? You look like a wet dog.”

“Hey now, I just saved the apartment from getting flooded, so…”

Jonathan smiled and apologized with a quick kiss, his hand still firmly gripping the kitchen counter. Steve grinned. 

“Well, let’s get in some dry clothes. It’s fucking freezing in here.”

The pair made their way into the small hallway adjacent to the kitchen and then into their bedroom. Jonathan watched as Steve peeled off his damp clothes and replace them with a dry fleece tracksuit, picking the brief moments where his back was turned to begin taking off his own clothes. The ache in his back turned into a biting sting as he raised his arms over his head and he didn’t want Steve to notice. 

Jonathan successfully slipped his warmest knit sweater over his torso and managed to get his arms through the sleeves without blowing his cover. He was even able to bend down to swap his damp socks with dry ones, concealing his twisted grimace from the man just a few feet to his left. After cautiously straightening himself up and resting a steadying hand on his dresser,  Jonathan replaced the grimace with a sweet smile as he watched Steve rough up his hair with a towel in an attempt to get it dry. 

Steve tossed the towel onto the bed between them and peered at Jonathan through a jungle of tangled waves, returning the smile. 

“Well, that was a bit chaotic, huh? Can we start over?”

Steve raked his hand through the mop on his head, pushing it back into submission. He strode over to a slightly shivering Jonathan with open arms, not noticing the fact that the shorter man’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers. Muttering a quiet “C’mere”, he pulled Jonathan in for a hug. 

Stiffening, Jonathan could not hold back a wince as he tucked his head between Steve’s neck and shoulder. He managed to slide his hand off of the dresser and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. If he was being honest, Jonathan didn’t even mind the discomfort gripping his spine. For the first time today he actually felt warm. 

Appreciating the support he was getting, both physically and emotionally, Jonathan let himself melt into the embrace. Steve’s smile broadened and he responded by gently tightening his grip, unknowingly sending an excruciating wave down the other man’s back. The stifled whimper that escaped Jonathan’s throat startled Steve, causing him to pull back and grasp his shoulders.

“Hey? Hey, what’s wrong?”

Noticing the tears threatening to spill on to Jonathan’s cheeks, Steve flung into autopilot and drew him in to his chest again, hugging him close. Jonathan let out a louder yelp this time as he stepped backwards, taking a hasty seat on the bed and twisting the sheets tightly between his fingers. Steve dropped to his knees and placed a gentle hand on Jonathan’s tensed one in front of him.

“Jon, talk to me…”

Swallowing thickly, Jonathan managed to open his eyes and face not only Steve, but a secret that has been looming over him for several years now. 

“Sorry, uh…” he sniffled, “It’s just my back…”.

“Oh… did you hurt yourself?”

“No, it just does this sometimes.”

Steve shifted from his position on the floor to sitting on the bed next to Jonathan, placing a supportive hand on his bouncing knee. 

“Sometimes?”

“The rain makes it worse… And the cold.”

Steve’s brow furrowed in concern. He looked down at his feet.

“Oh yeah, my mom’s shoulder gets like that when it rains, but she fucked it up in high school… cheerleading accident. Did you ever hurt your back?”

Jonathan let out a dark chuckle and explained the violent events of Hawkins Memorial, but now in more detail than Steve had heard before. It took everything for Steve to bite back chastising words like ‘you should have told me sooner’, and ‘why haven’t you seen doctor?’. Instead he fell into the role of caretaker, a role in which Steve was naturally gifted, especially when it came to Jonathan. 

Steve kissed away a tear that was making its way down Jonathan’s cheek, choosing not to mention it out loud. He then stood and made his way to the bathroom, turning on the tap and opening the medicine cabinet. He tucked a bottle of aspirin under his arm, filled the cup next to the sink with water, and adjusted the tap to a warmer temperature, letting it run as he ran to the bedroom to place the medicine and cup into his boyfriends slightly trembling hands. 

Jonathan’s lips tugged at a grateful smile and placed the cup on the bedside table. After shaking two pills into his hand first, then tossing them back into his mouth, Jonathan sipped at the water and watched Steve leave and then re-enter the bedroom holding a hot water bottle. He placed the hot water bottle on the bed and snaked his hand up Jonathan’s sweater, brushing his gentle fingers down his spine, making him shudder. 

“Can you lay on this? The heat will help.”

Steve moved his hand to behind Jonathans nodding head and guided him down to a comfortable position, the hot water bottle situated evenly under his lower back. Letting out a satisfied groan, Jonathan practically melted into the mattress below him. Steve grinned as the other man let his eyes flutter shut in a moment of relief. He shifted on to his hip and lowered his own body down to cuddle up next to Jonathan, pulling a blanket over the both of them.

“Hey, stupid”, Steve half-whispered, peering up through his eyelashes. 

Jonathan  scrunched up his nose, then looked down at Steve, letting out a light laugh.

“Hey…”

“Thanks for being honest, love. I know you never want to inconvenience anybody, but just know that I kind of like taking care of your ass.”

Jonathan chuckled through a few more escaped tears, communicating both gratitude and understanding. The sound blended with the rain drumming rhythmically on the bedroom window, and soon the pair succumbed to sleep, Jonathan breathing much easier than he had been able to before.

[just-two-blokes]

Hugs - A "Barris" Drabble

Comfortember day 1 - Hugs

There are many moments when Thomas Barrow would have liked a person to hug him.

When he watched his and Philip's love letters burn to ash in the lambent flames of the fireplace.

When Edward Courtenay's blood dripped silently onto the bare floor of the hospital.

That night when, in the pouring rain, he could still hear Mister Carson's words echoing in his head.

"Disgusting" "Revolting"

In those moments when the shockwaves of the electric strokes of "Choose your own Path" shot through his veins.

The bathtub filled with cold water in the minutes before he cut his wrists.

All the hugs he has received so far have always felt wrong in some way.

His hug with Phyllis Baxter at his farewell has been short. Far too short.

His embrace with Chris Webster in the dark halls of Turtons turned from a safe haven to a nightmare in seconds as night fell over them like a black veil.

But now lying here, in their double bed of their own cottage, Richard's arms wrapped around his back, Thomas realises something he has longed for for many years.

This embrace, in the strong arms of Richard Ellis, his gentle hands on his back and his warm breath on his neck, feels finally, finally right.

When Thomas lifts his head and his gaze bores directly into the valet's blue eyes as he buries his hands in Richard's soft hair, he feels more secure and at home in this embrace than he ever has in his life.

[thegreenleavesofspring]

Gentle hands landed on his shoulders, kneading softly, and a gentle voice murmured in his ear, “You seem stressed.”

Fingon laid down his pen, turning in his chair to pull his wife down into his lap and bury his face in her silver hair. “I am.”

Celebnoreth pulled away to look up at him. “Let me help, love,” she urged softly. “Is it Uncle again? The Fëanorians?”

He tucked her head against his breastbone, relishing her nearness and her scent. “Morgoth,” he said into her hair with a weary sigh. “Nothing you can do anything about, dearest.”

She hummed thoughtfully and turned her head to kiss his cheek. “Perhaps not about the Enemy,” she acknowledged, and her hands went back to his shoulders, teasing the knots out. “But perhaps I can help with the tension nonetheless.” She shifted, pushing the reports and other work away with her elbow, as he let his forehead fall forward onto her shoulder.

She smiled a little to herself in satisfaction as the tightness leached out of his muscles. “You haven’t slept in days, love,” she murmured. “Come to bed.”

Fingon took a deep, shuddering breath. “Very well,” he acquiesced, and followed her as she stood and took his hand, leading him out of the office.

[comfortember]

I'm planning on participating. I have three quick questions: Do we get a "comfortember completionist" status if we do one all 30 days? (Only have three fully written at this point!) What should we tag our posts as for this blog to reblog them? And finally, do you have an Ao3 collection to post stuff to? Thanks!

We don't really have any sort of completionist status rn. Im the only person running this even at the moment and I don't have the time to track down who did and didn't right now, but it is an interesting idea :o You can use, #comfortember; #comfortember2022; or #comfortember 2022 (with a space)! I will be checking on all three tags throughout the event and doing my best to reblog all of your guys stuff, if I miss you feel free to dm or tag me, but be aware my life is pretty busy right now so I probably will find you it just maybe a couple days late :D We do! Here it is :D You're welcom, have fun, and happy halloween!!! o/ -HD

[whumpncomfort]

The Doctor Hugging His Companions

"Pain and loss, they define us as much as happiness or love. Whether it's a world or a relationship, everything has its time. And everything ends."