#this looks like it got pulled out of starwars lmao

[christanevspug]

3/5, vezina trophy — connor hellebuyck

with six shutouts, is connor hellebuyck one of the most under-appreciated goalies in the league?

[darthkruge]

Okay :3

Could I ask for some quick little hc’s on the reader getting hurt on a mission?

I just need worried and protective Ani rn 🥺

Thank you Butterscotch 💞💝

Anakin x Reader Who Gets Hurt on a Mission Headcanons

Warnings: I mean talk of injuries but no in depth ones discussed. Mainly just protective and worried Anakin with some soft Ani thrown in there too because I physically think I’m incapable of not adding that. 

Words: 1.3k

A/N: Yes my love of course!! I love worried and protective Ani <3 I know you said quick little headcanons but I fucking love protective!Anakin and the getting hurt on a mission thing is one of my favorite tropes lmao so this kinda took on a life of its own. 

gif credit i really like this gif- like a lot- 

Okay first off Anakin is already so protective. He hates that you’re in dangerous situations when you go on missions and he hates it when he can’t go with you. That being said, he knows you’re powerful and competent and he would never doubt your abilities as a Jedi. 

Honestly, his protectiveness says far more about him than you. He’s not worried that you’re not strong enough; he’s worried he’s not strong enough. If you get hurt, he thinks he failed somehow. 

As soon as he sees you get hit, he’s there in an instant. If it happens in the middle of a battle, getting you to safety is his main priority. He’ll scoop you up in his arms and get you out of there immediately.

If it’s more like someone hurts you directly, like a one-on-one thing, he’s going insane. Picture someone stabbing or hitting you to the point where you’re unconscious and bleeding on the floor. Anakin immediately flashes back to losing his mother, to when he wasn’t able to save someone he loved. 

He will kill them if they’re still a threat to you. If not, it’s not like he’s letting them just walk away. He’s infuriated. He first steps in front of your body, shielding you from them. And he’s livid, he’s glaring at them and anyone could tell he’ll fight to the death for you.

His lightsaber ignites, illuminating his enraged expression and they just know they fucked up. 

Even so, you are his priority. Revenge never comes first when it’s between that and keeping you safe. His thought process is: deal with danger as quick as I can so I can go make sure they’re okay. 

He runs up to you and, if you’re unconscious, he’s gently trying to coax you awake. He’ll whisper softly, all “Can you hear me?” “Open your eyes for me, baby.” “Please, Y/N, please let me see your gorgeous eyes.” “Come on, angel, let me know you’re okay” 

His eyes are scanning your body, looking for any possible injuries that he needs to attend to. 

Regardless of what the injuries are, he’s picking you up. He’s not letting you walk or put any pressure on any parts of your body. 

He scoops you up as gently as he can and moves as evenly as he can while rushing you back to the ship, trying not to jostle you around too much.

If you whimper or hiss in pain from the movements, he looks at you so apologetically and whispers an “I’m so sorry, just a little longer, okay?” 

And you’ll nod at him with tears in your eyes and it just makes his heart ache. He hates knowing you’re in pain and that he wasn’t able to stop it or take it away. 

When he gets you back to the ship, he’ll lay you down and try to attend to your injuries as best he can. He’ll grab some gauze and bandages and wrap your wounds, desperate to stop the blood loss. If there aren’t any supplies, he’ll just rip parts of his shirt off to use as bandages. After he did that once you secretly hope they forget the supplies again because-

After he finishes that, you’re normally really cold and exhausted from the blood loss. He wraps you up in all the blankets they might have and pulls his Jedi robe off and puts it around you, too. He knows it brings you comfort and, honestly, it’s really fucking warm. 

He talks to you to try and keep you awake. He’ll tell you stories and although he tries to be strong for you, you can hear his voice shake and his words become faster, sure signs that he’s fucking terrified. 

That’s honestly what gets you to stay awake, more than anything else. You don’t want him to panic. You’ll try to hold his hands, if your injuries allow, and constantly move your thumb against the back of his hand as he does the same to you. The constant movement reminds him you’re alive and conscious and okay. 

As soon as you land on Coruscant, he immediately brings you to medbay. He doesn’t care, you can complain about how much you don’t want to and how you’re fine all you want, he won’t hear it. He got a little upset once because you were desperate and said “please, Ani, please don’t make me go. I just want to go back to our bed and have you hold me. That’s the only thing that could make me feel better right now.”

He was upset because he hates turning you down, especially when you ask like that. The only time he’ll turn you down is if he’s trying to keep you safe. 

He tries to force them to let him stay with you as they run diagnostics, literally yelling out and attempting every trick in the book. Even so, it doesn’t work. They calmly tell him to go sit in the waiting room and they’ll get him when the tests are finished.

He watches them take you away and he paces in the room, chewing on his fingernails and running his hands through his hair in worry. He normally somehow ends up finding his way into a chair and he ends up breaking down. He’ll have his head  in his hands, tears streaming down  his cheeks as he prays to the Maker that you’ll be alright. He’d do anything, so long as you’re alright. 

When they finally call him back, saying your tests are done he’ll run back into the room. You see his disheveled appearance and bloodshot eyes and you immediately reassure him that you’re going to be okay. 

As soon as he can take you home, back into his arms you go. Once again, you’re not walking, so don’t even try it. Further, he just wants to hold you. You normally  kind of turn your head into his chest, embarrassed that he has to carry you through the Temple where anyone can see you in this weakened state. 

Meanwhile, Anakin is staring daggers at anyone who even attempts to look in your direction. His arms tighten around you, keeping you close and you’ve honestly never felt safer.  

He gets you back to the apartment and gently places you on the bed. He looks you over again, just making sure they didn’t miss any of your injuries before he pulls the covers up and comes next to you.

He’ll get you some water and a bit of food, wanting you to get something in your system to help replenish your body. He stays with you the whole time, making sure you eat and drink at least a little bit. 

Even though the medical droids helped, you’re still in pain and he tries to help in whatever way he can. He can see your eyes screwing up as you try to move and get comfortable in bed and he’s just “I know it hurts, baby. I’m so sorry, here, let me help you, okay?” “What can I do to make it better” 

He helps you get settled, pulling you with him in his strong arms until you find a position that allows you to sleep. 

Sometimes you’re shaken up from getting hurt. You’ll tell him how afraid you are or, more frequently, he just knows. He tells you “You’re safe now, my love.” “No one’s going to hurt you ever again.” “It’s okay, I took care of them, it’s okay.” “Look at me, angel. They’re gone, alright? It’s just you and me, right here, safe.” 

As you drift off, he reminds you how much he loves you and you say it back. He’s always the big spoon on those nights. He puts himself closest to the door, shielding your body with his.

Nights after you get hurt are always very special. He holds you to him as tightly as he can, granted this is mostly dependent on your injuries. And you just love it. You feel safe and he feels like he can keep you like that. 

Basically, if you get hurt on a mission, Anakin’s got you. And an enemy has to be pretty stupid to try and hurt you. Not only are you exceptionally badass, but if they somehow get to you, Anakin will hunt them to the ends of the galaxy to ensure they never harm you  again.

----

the link to join my taglist is in my pinned! if you would like to be taken off/edit your response in any way please dm me or shoot me an ask <3

general tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth @sodaoverstars @artiza-n

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @ungodiys @beiroviski @mystic-writings @thejediuniverse 

[babbushka]

Hey Zannah! I saw requests are still open so as a funny maybe sweet piece I had an idea. Maybe reader and Pale have a tornado warning and he’s the one who’s scared and reader’s just like “I want to go outside and watch” lmao. Just something silly possibly. Thanks babe, sending love to you today!!!!!

A/N: Thank you for this request! I have 0 experience with tornadoes I'm afraid, so I hope that you don't mind that I've changed this to a hurricane <33

1.2k, briefly NSFW

Somehow, during the hours and hours of heady lovemaking -- because really that’s what this was, that’s what this had melted into from the lack of energy after such a brutal fucking -- the world around you and Pale grows dark. It isn’t noticeable at first, how could it be? With the weight of your man on top of your body, pushing and pulling you further into the mattress, gasps and moans spilling from your lips. When you’re with Pale, your eyes shut so tight that the whole of the fuckin’ universe might as well be dark.

Except, it shouldn’t really be, the more you think about it, when Pale comes for the you-don’t-know-how-many-fuckin’-times-it’s-been, and he slumps against your exhausted body, limbs shakin’ from the effort of it all. The more you think about it, your senses slowly startin’ to return to your mind, even hazy and cloudy and foggy as they are from the pleasure, it shouldn’t be that dark.

And then, you hear the crack of thunder, and are reminded of the weather report the night before, a category three sweepin’ into the city. Somewhere, deep down in your bones, the ache of the pressure from the sky outside has you wanting to climb out of bed, much to your man’s dissatisfaction.

He’s got his eyes closed now, Pale does. You don’t blame him, he’s got to be tired from that spectacular performance, but you can’t tell if he’s asleep or not yet. The even rise and fall of his chest isn’t deterred by another loud smack of thunder, so you think it’s safe to try and peel away the sticky sweaty sheets, you think it’s safe to detangle your legs from his, getting one foot on the floor before a hand grips your wrist and a deep disgruntled voice asks,

“Where the fuck do you think you’re goin’?”

Smiling ever so gently, you lean over and press a kiss to his scowling face. Eyes still closed, his brow furrows, his nose crinkling up, like the thought of you getting out of bed for any reason is completely unacceptable.

“Outside.” You reply softly, already anticipating the protesting.

“No.” He doesn’t disappoint, cracking one eye open at you as he fumbles on the nightstand for a cigarette, “Absolutely fuckin’ not. In this weather? You gotta be outta your damn mind. Get back here, right the fuck now, under these covers, and let me kiss on you for a while.”

“C’mon, please? Just for a few minutes?” You grin at him as you reach over where he seems to be struggling, grabbing the box and sticking one of the cigarettes into your own mouth just long enough to strike up a match, light it, and pass it to him.

“What the -- did I not fuck you hard enough? Is that it? Is this you tellin’ me to plow you over the fuckin’ moon because I will -- let me just smoke a minute and then I’ll be right back fuckin’ to it but you ain’t gettin’ swept away by no goddamn hurricane on my fuckin’ watch.” Pale sits up fully now, his gold chain swaying ever so gently and bonking against his muscled neck.

“You fucked me plenty hard, honey.” You reassure him, letting him wind his arms around you, letting him drag you back against him, giggling the whole way.

“Not if you’re still talkin’ I didn’t.” He’s angry in the way that he always tends to be angry, and you just let him kiss you the way he wants, the way you both want, all the time. It’s a fucking wonder you get anything done, when you’re together.

Lightning peals across the sky, and Pale flinches this time, making you cock your head to the side a little, a soft smile gracing your lips as you card your fingers through his hair.

“Are you afraid of storms?” You whisper, like someone is listening and judging Pale for his answer, “It’s okay if you are.”

“Me?” He only scoffs and splutters and rolls his eyes at you in that way that says of course he’s fuckin’ scared, even as he wrangles you down to the bed a little more, kisses and sucks at your throat, “Oh now you’ve gone ahead and done it sweetheart, your VSOP ain’t afraid of no fuckin’ storms, but this ain’t a normal storm, is it? This is a hurricane baby girl, ain’t that supposed to have winds over one-hundred miles per hour? Nah nah nah, the last fuckin’ thing I need is for you to get swept away. Who the fuck would suck my dick then?”

Rolling you underneath him, your legs automatically wrap around his waist out of sheer instinct, and you laugh and smack a hand playfully against his strong stomach.

“Aw, you do care.” You roll your eyes right back at him, and even though he’s scowling at you, you can see the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

This was how things usually went -- you want something, he says no, you accept that response, and then he changes his mind anyway. In your two years together you think he’s only ever truly denied you once, but that was because he had been away. So when Pale decides to give you what you want, it’s not much of a surprise, even if you’re still pleased.

“Alright alright, just for a few minutes. If you get struck by lightning that’s your fuckin’ fault. Don’t go expectin’ me to rescue you, you got that?” Pale grumbles as he pushes himself away from you, reachin’ for the dresser and a clean pair of clothes to throw at your naked body.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.” Expertly catching the slip dress, you pull it up over your head and let the cool silk slink down your body, a reprieve from the heat of the Floridian summer.

What a way to start your vacation, you can’t help but think, knowing Pale had whisked you away to Miami in an attempt for some tropical paradise shit that had to go get interrupted by the hurricane. It was only passing through for today, the weatherman said, and it wasn’t supposed to do much damage, but still.

Sitting outside on the balcony of your hotel room overlooking the ocean, it’s one of those sights that reminds you of the glory of nature. Something about the huge clouds, thick and dark, the choppy waves, the thunder and lightning make you feel very small, and it’s exhilarating. Yesterday the beach was crystalline blue, with the rainbow dottings of umbrellas and swimsuits, and tomorrow it’ll likely be that way too. But for this moment, it feels like you and Pale are in another world, one where the crisp rainy air fills your lungs, and the thunder shakes the sky.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” You turn to your man, who is smoking on the balcony, one arm slung around your waist, looking for all the world like he’s going to beat the shit out of the hurricane himself.

“You got a fucked up idea of what’s nice, you know that.” Peering down at you, he shakes his head, and you can tell he’s reaching his limit for how long he’ll go out of bed before complaining.

“Maybe.” You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder, watching as the horizon turns green with the oncoming storm, “But you like it.”

And despite all his bitching and moaning and groaning, he can’t help but huff out a laugh because, “Yeah, I do.”

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Tagging some Pale lovin' friends! @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @sunflowersinthesnow @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @kylo-ren-is-alive @icarusinthesea @princessflip

[yelenasdog]

rockstar (peter parker x gn reader)

genre: fluff with a lil angst 

summary: peter always comes to the reader when he’s hurt, but reader wonders if it could mean something more.

words: 1465 ( more or less LMAO)

warnings: light cursing, peter being hurt, some kissing? idk if that counts sorry lol.

a/n: hello! so this is inspired by the song Lover of Mine by 5 Seconds of Summer so i strongly reccomend listening to it by reading! if u prefer to read it on wattpad from my peter parker imagines book, click here !

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knock knock!

I was abrubtly woken from my peaceful sleep by the loud sounds coming from my window.

"What the hell," I muttered out as I groggily checked the current time. 3:47 am. I reluctantly made my way over, having a feeling it was a certain webslinger. I peeled open the entrance to see Peter, still in his spidey suit, without the mask may I add. I grabbed onto his broad shoulders, pulling him through the opening, almost slipping on the hard floor due to my fuzzy socks.

"Pete, what are you doing, people could see you without the mask." I heard his feet as he quietly padded over to sit on my soft comforter with an obvious limp.

I went over to my lamp and switched it on, a warm glow being strewn across the room by it. As Peter sat on my bed, I turned to meet him, gasping at what had been brought to my attention by the light. I rushed over to the boy, pressing the spider in the center of his suit, causing it to slide off and pool at his feet.

Peter grimaced as I soflty dragged my fingers against his bruised and battered skin from where I sat on the floor next to my bed.

"What happened to you, Pete?" I spoke, looking up at him, my facial expression laced with concern.

"Well," he began as he tried to sit up, groaning in the process, "just got hit a little harder than usual, that's all. It's no biggie, really."

I sighed, placing a tender hand on his from where I sat on the floor in a crouching position. I stood up, my hand staying in the same position.

"It kinda looks like a biggie, bud." One of my hands moved to run itself through his messy brown locks as I looked him up and down once more, scanning for any underlying injuries I might have missed at first look.

He flashed me a tired smile which I returned.

"I'm gonna go grab some stuff to patch you up, k?" This time I gave him a small smile, and he was the one who returned it gratefully.

"Thank you y/n." I squeezed his now bare hand, standing and turning to go.

"It's no problem, Pete, honestly." 

As I tried to leave, he lightly tugged me back by my wrist, catching me by surpise. My breath caught in my throat at the action.

"Really, y/n, I don't know what I would do without you."

I smiled at him once more, "Same to you, BugBoy"

He released my hand, allowing me to go get his supplies. As I gathered what I needed from the cabinet, my head was clouded with thoughts of the boy. The same thoughts that had been clouding my head since the day I had met him.

We had first met at midtown through decathlon, and grew quite close. I was entranced by the boy and everything about him, from his starwars obsession to the way he would rant about different scientific theories. It made my heart swell for reasons I would like to think I couldn't understand. He would confine in me with any problems he was going through, such as Uncle Ben passing, or even some of his biggest secrets, Spider-Man being one of them.

He hadn't meant for me to find out. Not in the way I did, at least.

It had been after a long day at school, when Ned had gone to hang out with Peter and build the lego deathstar, and I tagged along to surprise him, as I had been gone on a trip for quite some time and wanted to see him. Turns out I was the one in for a surprise, because I found out peter was Spider-Man that same day when he walked in on the ceiling through his window. It was a bit of a shock to say the least.

My feelings had only grown for the boy since that point, which also left me with uncalled for emotions that I had a difficult time dealing with. Especially when Peter would do this every time he would get hurt. This whole routine of coming to me at ungodly hours of the night, and me patching him up every time without question. It was sad to say the least. 

The way my heart would ache for the boy in red, so much so that I would sacrifice so much for his happiness, whatever form that would take. 

I tried to deny the feelings that would arise when I was around him, and God, was it difficult. I looked myself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. I walked back out to where Peter was waiting for me, reaching out and placing all the supplies on my mahogony side table.

"I know you hate hearing this, but we might have to do stitches, Pete."

He groaned, looking up to my poster covered ceiling as if one of the singers on the paper would somehow deny the fact he needed the medical attention.

He looked back at me, giving me puppy dog eyes.

"Come on, Rockstar? Really?"

My heart swelled at the nickname he had gifted me after finding out about my love for music, one of the many things we bonded over. I was tempted to give in, but quickly snapped out of it.

"Nice try, Peter, but this is for your own good, so lets just get it over with, yeah?"

His head dropped and he nodded, looking down to his feet.

"Head up, bub, I need to be able to see what I'm doing and get this done before it starts to scab." I could have sworn Peter's pupils dialated and he seemed a little off at the pet name, but yet again, it was nearly 4 am, so I very well could have been imagining things, and probably was.

As I started to run the needle through the forming scar, he let out a whimper, gripping my shoulder in pain as his eyes screwed shut. He did this often, grabbing me “as hard as he could” whenever he was hurting. 

It was an idea I had introduced to him to deal with any especially bad injuries, our little way of dealing with the pain. I knew it might cause me some minor damage, as he would never hurt me. I assured Peter every time that I felt okay, but something nagged at me telling me he felt guilty, and that he wasn't gripping as hard as he could.

As I went through what I imagined was an especially painful part, he cursed loudly under his breath.

"Fuck!"

I stopped what I was doing momentarily to check on him after the short outburst, unusual for his kind and calm demeanor.

"Are you okay, Peter?"

He moved his large hands to tightly grip his hair, moving down to his neck, back and forth.

"No, y/n! I'm not okay. I'm hurting, I'm hurting so bad, y/n/n" His volume increased and decreased again, silent tears falling down his face.

I had dropped the needle that I had been using, shocked by his volume. I picked it back up again, resuming my task with conceringly shaky hands.

"I can try to be softer if it would help, Pete." My voice was gentle as I spoke, in a feeble attempt to not upset him further. 

He looked at me and to his shoes as he began to talk, his voice low I could barely hear him.

"No, y/n, it's not you, you're doing amazing, it's just," he didn't finish his sentence, he rather just trailed off.

I blew out a deep breath, my eyes never leaving the work in front of me.

"What is it, Peter?"

I tied the knot on the stiches, cutting the thread and disposing of the needle in the small biohazard waste kit froom the first aid box.

I stood up directly in front of him to where I was slightly higher up than him. I reached a hand forward, wiping away a stray tear. He took my wrists in his hands, taking me off guard.

"Actually, y/n, I lied." I tensed, concerned about what he was going to say.

"It is you. It's always been you."

Confusion consumed me as I shook my head, and I wondered if it was just my tired state that had caused the emotions.

"Peter, what do you mean you're not making any sens-"

Before I could finish my sentence, he leaned forward encapsulating our lips in a sweet and long awaited kiss. He let go of my wrists, moving his own hands, one to rest around my waist protectivley, the other on the back of my neck under my hair. I moved one of mine to lazily drape over his left shoulder, the other playing with the curls on the nape of his neck. The kiss lasted a long while, but not long enough.

Our hands went to the sides of each others faces when we parted, and his own strong hands started running small circles on my jaw. As we struggled to catch our breaths, he began to speak, the boyish smile I loved so much covering his face.

"My feelings for you are there, Y/n, always have been, and they always will be. I want you to take all of me, Rockstar."

I giggled at the wording of his statement, appreciating it nonetheless. He pressed our foreheads together, a mutal content taking over us.

"Although that was extremely cheesy, I’ll allow it this once. You have no idea how long I've wanted you to say that, BugBoy."

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idk how i feel about this tbh, kinda love it kinda hate it. stay funky! xx hj

[darthkruge]

Anakin Skywalker x Emotionally Exhausted Reader Headcanons 

Warnings: Like one use of language, Reader is just very drained, Anakin is soft and comforting (duh), uhh comfort angst? I think that’s how I’d categorize this? But I tried to go heavy on the comfort and like less heavy on the angst bc my last fic was angsty too lmao

Words: 1.3k

A/N: i didn’t plan on writing this week but i wanted to capture what im feeling rn. and anakin is my comfort character and i cope with things by trying to think of what he’d do to help me, as any normal person does. so this is me rambling and basically just… emotional exhaustion is real and please be gentle with yourself if you’re feeling it. i tried to keep my language very neutral in this, as emotional exhaustion can come from a myriad of situations and manifest in many ways. but yeah taking time to recover after stressful and draining situations is completely valid and okay. in fact, i encourage it :) 

gif credit

If Anakin knew you had a stressful week or day or just went through anything that was tough for you, he’d make sure to be there for you in the aftermath. 

The first time, he’d probably want to run right over and congratulate you for getting through whatever it was that stressed you, which you definitely appreciated, but he could tell something was off. Your eyes didn’t light up like they normally do, your smile didn’t reach your eyes. He knows you so well and he’d definitely pick up on it. 

And sometimes when you’re drained, he’ll come home and see you awake but still and completely spaced out. It worries him, he hates seeing you looking so lifeless. In these moments, his main goal is making sure you’re taken care of.

He knows you have no motivation to do shit yourself, so he does it for you. He doesn’t mind being that person for you and he knows you’ll do it right back for him. So he’ll make you any food you want and bring it to you with some water to ensure you’re still getting some nourishment. 

He’s aware that you have a tendency to just zone out for hours on end. You logically know you have to go to the bathroom or shower or something, but it feels insurmountable and you can’t physically bring yourself to move. So he’ll gently pick you up. And he carries you over to wherever you need to go. And he’ll stay. He always stays. 

Very soft encouragement as he takes care of you. “You’re doing so good, angel.” “I know you’re exhausted; please just do this for me and then I’ll take you back to bed and you can rest again, alright?” “Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

Also he’s so proud of you for getting through whatever you’ve gone through that’s exhausted you to your very core. He’ll frequently say things like, “You’re amazing, my love.” “You got through it, you can rest now.” “You never need to think about it again, okay? It’s done, beautiful.” 

He knows you’ll recover from it. He has complete faith in you, of course. But just because he knows you’ll eventually be okay doesn’t mean he’ll neglect you in the meantime. 

He’s always touching you, too. He knows you like constant, slow motions because they remind you he’s with you. It grounds you. So he’ll be stroking your thighs, running his thumb across the back of your hand, weaving his fingers through your hair, etc. 

He talks quietly, too. You sometimes have headaches when you’re drained and he would hate to make them worse. He always makes sure the apartment is dark as to not strain your eyes, as well. If the headache is really bad, he rubs your temples and places small kisses on them to help ease the tension. 

Anakin is kind to you when you don’t have the energy to talk. He knows that sometimes, all he’s going to get is a hum or nod of approval if he asks you or says something. On occasion, you’re so far gone that he won’t even get that. But then he’ll look in your eyes and the love and appreciation you hold for him is clear. He’s not going to doubt all you have or be frustrated if you occasionally can’t voice it. 

If he sees you start to go too far in your own head and get panicky or stressed, he’ll distract you immediately. Again, he knows you so well; he can 100% tell. When you start overthinking about whatever drained you, whether it be something with your family or friends, your studies, your work, something seemingly random, or something immensely abstract, he doesn’t judge. He’d never make you feel dramatic for being affected by it. 

If you want to talk about it, he’ll listen. Sometimes you feel frustrated; you got through it, why are you still feeling the effects? If you want logic, Anakin explains that your body had been producing an intense amount of adrenaline for a long time and now that the “threat” has passed, all of that adrenaline has suddenly dropped off. That, in itself, is an exhausting process; it makes sense that it took it out of you. But if you just want understanding and empathy, he’s quick to give that to you, as well. 

If whatever the situation was didn’t go the way you wanted or if it brought up some bad memories, he’s a shoulder to cry on. He wants you to get it out, knowing holding in those emotions is never a good idea. He tucks you into his chest, normally placing his head atop yours and just, simply, lets you cry. 

He’s very patient with your moods always, but especially in those moments. If you accidentally snap at him he’s never angry. He knows you don’t have the energy to fully regulate your emotions and everything’s just in overdrive; it’s overwhelming. Of course, you apologize later when everything comes back to you because you feel horrible on the off chance you're not the kindest with him (which is quite rare). He’ll just kiss you, smile softly, and tell you not to worry, it’s in the past. 

And if you’re in that drained, barely conscious state, he brings you blankets. It comforts you and he likes seeing you all bundled up and safe. 

And if you want cuddles? Yes. He’s there, no questions asked. He’ll just pull you into him and let you rest. He knows that you’re sometimes not physically tired enough to sleep, so he just holds you. You might draw patterns on his chest or just stare off silently. Whatever you have to give, he’s more than okay with. 

If you want, he’ll sing to you. The soft melodies always keep you at peace and you can feel the vibrations in his chest when you’re pressed into him. 

Or sometimes he’ll tell you stories. Whether it be from childhood, old missions, the future he wants with you, or something completely random, it’s nice to listen to. He has an amazing mind and you could listen to him go on forever. 

Eventually, you’ll drift off. And he holds you through the entire night.

When you wake up, you’re normally feeling better. You’re still feeling it a little, but being with him really helps revitalize you. Now, you usually have enough energy to actually hold a conversation. The first two things you tell him are almost always “thank you” and “I love you.” Then, you’ll feel guilty for making him help you so the third sentence you utter is an apology.  

Anakin, as always, assures you that’s unnecessary. Then he checks up on you. He doesn’t treat you like a hospital patient because he knows you’re a bit embarrassed, but he does check to see if you’re feeling shaky at all. And, if you are, he’s quick to get you some food and water. 

And he makes sure no one disturbs you. You don’t like it when someone sees you when you’re in that drained state because you’re immensely vulnerable. The thought of anyone other than him seeing you brings you extreme unease. So he quickly reassures you that it’s just the two of you. He’s not going anywhere. 

Also, if your stress was caused by someone else, Anakin takes a quick little mental note. He’s not going to leave to go beat them up because you need him right now. You’re his priority. But he tries to keep you away from them in the future or, at the very least, make them stop or lessen whatever it is that made you so nervous. 

Basically, he’s kind, understanding, and gentle. He thinks you’re amazing for always pushing yourself so hard. But expending a lot of energy, especially in the emotional sense, wears you out. He’s quick to tell you you’re not weak and that this is normal. He makes sure you listen to your body and just rest. He’s there for whatever you may need.

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