#one gif today because headache is killing me but i really wanted to have this scene lol XD

[sebfreak]

It worked the best on him...

[irndad]

hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺

enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily

He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 

And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 

But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 

Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 

It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”

His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 

“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 

“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“

“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”

It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.

It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.

“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”

A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 

He’s just so tired. 

He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 

His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 

His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 

“Are you planning on coming to bed?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 

“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”

Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”

She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.

“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”

[igotanidea]

All figured out : Jason Todd x reader

Summary: When duties and stuff get in the way of being close so bad he forgets your b-day... Or does he?

***

As of late they barely had time for each other. It was constantly his patrols, his wounds and bleeding, her work and headaches and everything in-between.

You know what they say after all, right? About the mundane everyday stuff killing more relationships than actual fights and heartbreaks. The case when you get so accustomed to being with each other that there’s nothing more to discover and the connection becomes simply boring.

And he didn’t want it.

She neither.

But what was to do when there was always something or someone.

What was to do when they both found themselves drifting apart, too focused on the duties and obligations and that constant train of thoughts, plans and internal anxiety they tried to suppress so hard there was barely any strength for anything else.

“Y/N.” 

“Hm?” She raised her head from the couch she dozed off while reading some notes for the upcoming work presentation. “Yeah? What’s wrong? How can I help?” Even in her half-hazy state with a post-it note stuck to her cheek, her first instinct was to sprung into action. And the fact that she missed his concerned face and affection beaming from his eyes did not go unnoticed.

“It’s your birthday today, baby…” Jason sighed, moving closer, crouching next to the couch to be somewhere close to her eye level and squeezing her hands.

“My birthday?” Her tone indicated that she barely recognized what day it was, let alone that the date was anything special “Really? I guess I forgot about that…”

“Y/N…”

“Hm?”

“I’m so sorry-“

“For what?” she tore the note from her cheek, finally meeting his eyes “Hey. Jason, baby. For what?”

“I forgot them too.”

“Well clearly not, if you’re the one reminding me.”

“I don’t have a gift for you.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“It’s not enough.”

“It is enough for me.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly, “Because us talking for more than five minutes might be the first time in weeks.”

“I’m sorry-“

“Yeah, me too.” She sighed “this is not just on you Jace. You’re only half of this relationship.”

“Only?” he teased, familiar sparks showing in his eyes

“Oh, here’s that mischief I know you for.” She chuckled leaning her forehead on his in a vulnerable gesture “What happened to us Jay?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t like it.”

“You don’t say.”

“And that’s why I’m taking you out tonight.”

“Wait, what? What about the patrol? The missions? The-“ the stream of words coming out of her mouth was cut abruptly as he placed a finger on her lips. “Hey-hmph!”

“Don’t think just because I’ve barely heard your voice lately I’m just going to let you bubble, princess.”

“But-“

“Now, put on you prettiest dress and do not worry your sweet little head about anything else”

“But-“

“If you keep talking I’ll have to silence you in some other way and then we won’t leave this apartment at all. And I’ve already made plans-.”

“In the past thirty seconds?!”

“Yes. Now do you want to ruin my plans for tonight?” he pouted in a child-like manner causing her to let out an involuntary laugh before heading to the bathroom to get ready for whatever scheme he came up with.

***

“A club? Seriously?”

The look of confusion on her face as they pulled at the dancing spot was quite hurtful to him.

“I didn’t even know you could dance.”

“Ouch! Y/n!”

“What?!” she scoffed, “It’s your fault. You never showed that skill.”

“Well here’s a show for your entertainment. Go ahead and enjoy me, making a fool out of myself just to celebrate your bday.”

Jason grabbed her hand, sent a knowing look to the bouncer that just let them pass without any questions and dragged her inside.

“Wait… wait, what is going on here? You know the bouncer at the club? Jason? Jason?! The actual hell- ah!”

The lights went out, she felt his hand slipping from hers and for a second that felt like eternity she was completely alone in the dark.

“Y/N?!” his voice reached her ears though she had no idea where it was coming from and the slight panic started to creep inside. A feeling multiplied when she heard ruffling and some whispers of people who were closing in on her

“Jason?! Where are you!?” Y/N started spinning in the dark, searching for anything solid that would help her cover from whatever danger might be lurking in the dark. “ah!” Her wish became granted sooner than expected when she collided with something hard and out of sheer instinct started punching and hitting the surface.

“Hey! Hey, relax! Relax! It’s me! It’s me, princess.” Familiar touch of hands intensified on hers stopping her from fighting the person that was in fact her only salvation and protection. “It’s me, you’re safe” he pulled her closer, offering comfort and calm.

“What-what happened?” she stuttered “Why did the lights-“

“SURPRISE!”

Before she made her sentence the candles and lights garland got lit and she was greeted with friends and family members standing behind the lavishly set table with a birthday cake smiling and cheering.

“You asshole!” Y/N turned to Jason, resuming to punch and hit him, only that now she could see him and her movements were far more accurate and effective “I could have had a heart attack!”

“Stop it!” Jason laughed, pretending to be scared, grabbing her waist and spinning her in her air, before putting her down and kissing her passionately, not caring about the onlookers of their guests. “Happy birthday.” He muttered against her lips.

“You’re a jerk, you know it?” she responded in a whisper before grabbing the front of his shirt and kissing him again, not giving a shit who was looking likewise.

***

“You want to sneak out of here?”

After two hours of celebration, dancing, laughing and stuffing mouths with delicious food, Jason walked to her from behind offering a getaway from everyone. His warm breath followed by a gentle kiss on that soft spot between her neck and shoulder was supposed to convince her, but she was still mad about the trap he set for her.

“Mh. Dunno. You went to such a great length to bring me here and now you want me to leave?” She teased, though her tone was not matched by the action when she tilted head to give him more access to her skin and allowed his hands to wrap around her waist.

“Mhm. Yes. Exactly. Leave with me.” Jason muttered against her skin.

“You're scared you won’t find the way back home?” she smirked and the grip on her body tightened.

“Not If my home stays here….”

“Oh no!” Y/N’s joyful laughter filled the air “Cliché! And cheesy and –“

“You done?” he frowned, not liking the way she was mocking him while he was pouring his heart out.

“Nope. Don’t think so. I can go like this for hours.”

“Y/N—” he growled in a warning she was pushing him to the limits.

“But I suppose if I can do it here, I can also do it when we’re alone-“

“Oh so now you want to be alone with me only to mock me?”

“Mhm.” She grinned. “So what do you say, big boy? Shall we take a French leave?”

“And walk out silently?” Jason grinned and she did not like it at all. “Over my dead body. Again.”

Without warning he lifted her up in the air, and with the most commotion he could cause, carried her away, followed by the cried out wishes of happy birthday and all the best.

He was such a drama queen.

***

“That was fun.” She pointed out when they got back to their little flat

“Only a beginning princess. I haven’t really given you your present yet.” Jason made sure to lock the door, stepping closer to his girlfriend and immediately pulling her closer, caressing her back and kissing her neck.

“You think you know what I want, huh?” She giggled when his lips started to tickle her skin.

“Got you figured all over baby… Know all your soft spots.”

He descended to her collarbone, bending her backwards a little to make it easier. The position forced her to place hands on his shoulders for purchase.

“Are you saying I became so boring and predictable to you?” she teased not stopping him walking her backwards to the bed

“Boring?” he gave her a look over, before sliding her dress upwards, tracing over the exposed thigh “not at all.” Her dress hit the floor, removed overhead. “Predictable? Maybe…”

“Asshole…” soft sight left her lips before getting silenced by another passionate kiss.

“You know I know what you want…”

“Prove it.” Y/N did not waste a second sliding his shirt off too. Once done, she plopped on the bed, facing the ceiling and waiting for his move “Prove you really do know what I want.���

Jason smirked and laid on the bed next to her.

He knew.

He knew better than she wanted to give him credit for.

And that was exactly the reason why at the moment his fingers were running up and down her exposed belly, but never crossing the barrier of her white, innocent panties or bra.

The reason why he did not tear his and her underwear and surrender to passion.

An argument for not going straight into sex.

So many people were confusing intimacy with sex. Simplifying it. While the real connection went far beyond body-to-body contact and carnal pleasure.

Real intimacy did not mean being bare as in shedding the clothes, but exposing oneself emotionally.

And he knew.

They’ve been growing apart for so long and the best gift he could give her was his presence next to her.

Y/N smiled rolling on her side to look into his eyes, their bodies close but never really touching as if the exchanged looks and interlaced fingers were far more valuable.

“How do you like your present?” he smiled softly, playing with her fingers, voice filled with warmth and purest form of affection.

“You really did know.”

“Told you I got you figured. And it’s not really a bad thing now, is it?”

“No. No it’s not. And hey I just figured something –“

“Hm? And what may that sudden discovery be? You missed me perhaps? Or – “ he made a dramatic pause – “don’t tell me you got feelings for me! Ugh! Y/N! Disgusting!” 

She laughed.

“Feelings? No way! And how could you dare believe I might have missed your horrible attitude and character!? Are you trying to offend me?!”

“Always.”

“Perhaps I should also thank you for keeping me in check and making sure I don’t become conceited?”

“Happy birthday” he shrugged, pulling her to his chest ruffling her hair on purpose. “And don’t think I love you or something.” The last remark was followed by the kiss on her forehead.

“Me neither, Jason. Me neither-”

It seemed like they got each other figured out after all.

And maybe it was their way of healing and coming together once again.

[rose-pearls]

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend - Part 5

Previous Part - Next Part

There are pictures lying everywhere around her, to try and make her mind work or at least that is what doctor Everdeen has told her.

Some pictures make her brain hurt from looking at them, like memories are trying to come back but aren’t able to. Others are just there, and she can’t even remember who the person is on it. In only one picture she can recognize the person, but the memories linked with him are not the best ones. 

Peeta and you are smiling at the camera, a half-eaten cake in front of them with three forks around it. They both have a bit of frosting on the cheeks while they are holding their teacups in the air. You don’t know how the both of you came to be how you are today, broken down, when just a couple of weeks ago you were smiling for the picture. 

One picture always takes your attention, the man in it is smiling warmly at her while she smiles at the camera a long dress covering her body. It looks like it had been taken at a ball, champagne flutes in both of their hands but she looked happy there. You feels like you are missing something, just like when he was looking at you with heartbroken eyes when you told him you couldn’t remember him.

“How is memory lane going?”, a voice asks behind you and you see Doctor Everdeen looking at you sweetly. 

“Could be going better, some pictures bring me headaches, others don’t do anything and then there is the picture of Peeta.”, the doctor nods at your words and writes down what you just told her. 

“The good news is that we took you just on time before they managed to make everything disappear. However, we were thinking of making you talk with Peeta if you are feeling up to it? It could help the both of you.”, Doctor Everdeen says the last part after a few seconds, and you look at her surprised. 

“What happened to him? The only thing I could hear were his screams.”, you whisper softly, looking at her for answers.

“They used some venom to make him believe that Katniss was the enemy and that she is a mutt that needs to be killed.”, your blood turns cold at the words, although you didn’t remember Katniss well you knew she was important to Peeta or that was at least what was shown on your board.

“Can I first take a look around?”, you try to ask, they hadn’t really let you out of the hospital too scared of what could happen. The doctor looks unsure but after a sigh she looks at you carefully.

“You will have a guard with you, and you have one hour.”, she looks like she was expecting your question because a guard enters at her words, and you look at her in surprise.

“I’m Boggs, I’ll be with you.”, he says after a moment of silence, and you nod slowly at his words before taking the clothes the doctor offers you.

--

The halls are quiet as you walk through them, it looks like a big maze, and you don’t know how you would’ve found your way without Boggs leading you around.

You arrive in a room filled with weapons, lining up on the walls and you try to understand why the man brought you here, but he just nods towards the long row of targets. The guns attract your attention, and you take a small one before moving towards the knifes choosing a small one. 

As you come before a target it starts moving into place, you look back towards Boggs who gives you a small smile before you turn around trying to grip the knife correctly. Memories of a knife flash back as you grip it tighter, a butcher shop flashes before your eyes making you take a step back. 

“We don’t want a murderer as a daughter.”, you hear someone yell as the memories of a butcher shop takes over, a small girl looking at her father skillfully cutting the meat and then a flashforward to a bag being thrown in front of you.

You shake your head and grip the knife tighter before making a pirouette and throwing it hard against the target, not expecting new memories to appear. 

Blood, so much blood surrounding the abdomen of a young girl who is looking at you with scared eyes. She is whispering words that you can’t differ, but you feel the pain and guilt again. You feel like you can’t breathe and for a moment you close your eyes before you hear Boggs voice and you come back from the memories. He is looking at you worried but still a feet away from you with his hands up, and you remember that you still have a gun in your hands. It drops to the floor, and you sit on the floor trying to make sense of everything you just saw, while staring at the knife in the target.

“It’s the 75th Hunger Games!”, you hear a voice yell in a faraway memory full of pride and cockiness.

A voice breaks through your daydream and you see Boggs in front of you, looking at you with worried eyes.

“What is happening? Can you talk to me?”, you nod slowly before taking a deep breath.

“T-the knife. It brought back memories.”, you manage to whisper, and he looks at you slightly surprised before sitting down in front of you.

“That’s good. Can you tell me what you saw?”, you close your eyes at his words and a moment later you nod slowly.

“There were memories of a butcher shop and then a bag being thrown in front of me with a voice saying that they don’t want a murderer as a daughter.”, you tell him slowly and he seems to think for a moment before nodding slowly. 

“Your parents were district 12 butchers, so you are starting to remember them. That memory of the bag was probably when you came home from the games.”, he tells you softly like he is scared that it will break you. But his words make sense, the pain you felt at the memories must have been of your parents telling you to leave.

“There was a second memory.”, Boggs nods and you try to think of how to tell him before taking a deep breath.

“When the knife hit the target, a memory came back from a blond girl holding onto my hand, my other hand was on her wound and she looked like she was begging me to do something.”, a headache starts to form at the memories that you try to find again. Boggs is silent for a moment before looking at you carefully.

“I don’t know how much I can tell you, Doctor Everdeen will decide that when you tell her about this but that was a memory from your games.”, you remember the doctor telling you that you would have memories from games that you were in and that you won, so that must have been one.

“Thank you.”, you whisper after a moment, and he looks at you with a sad smile.

“I’m glad you are starting to remember some things. But we need to go see Mellark.”, he says after a moment and you simply nod, letting him take you with him.

--

The door is locked as you arrive, and Boggs looks at you for a moment while you look at the door feeling nervous.

“If you want to leave at any point, you tell us and we open the door.”, he says with a hard tone, and you simply nod taking a step towards the door.

Boggs tells them to open the door and you enter the room, seeing glass windows where you can’t seem to be able to see anything through. The room is all white, a bit like yours and you can’t help but want to take some paints and make it more colorful.

Peeta is in the middle of the room, looking at you with curious eyes while his hands are tied up just like his legs. He looks as exhausted and tortured as you, his screams come back in your memories, and you have to stop yourself from closing your eyes at the memories.

“You came.”, he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at his words.

“Couldn’t leave you here, could I?”, you whisper back before sitting down on his bed and smiling softly.

“How are you doing?”, typical of Peeta always wondering how others were doing before himself.

“Could be better, after all I lost all of my memories but otherwise nothing new. How are you doing?”, he snorts at your words, and you can’t help but smile bitterly in response.

“Everyone thinks I’ve gone crazy, and I don’t know what is happening to me.”, you can’t help but feel sick at his words, so you take his hand and squeeze it.

“They fucked us up really bad, didn’t they.”, Peeta chuckles at your words before it slowly dies down in his throat.

“I just want to be myself again.”, he whispers after a moment, and you feel tears in your eyes at his words.

“I know, I do too.”, you manage to say while your voice breaks down at the words. The two of you look at each other for a moment with tears in your eyes.

“I have something for you.”, you tell him and Peeta looks at you surprised before you take a picture out of your jacket.

It’s the picture they had given you of the two of you with the half-eaten cake in front of you.

A smile appears on Peeta’s face at the picture, and you can’t help but smile back as you put the picture next to his bed.

“That way you have a bit of decoration in here.”, you whisper softly and Peeta smiles at your words.

“I remember that day. It was just before we were going to do the plan of leaving towards district thirteen. We used to get together every few nights in district twelve when we couldn’t sleep and after your tour Haymitch started joining us. That night we were scared so we found each other at the table and ordered a large cake and the first thing you told me was that my cake was better. We laughed the whole night long and put frosting on each other while Haymitch took that picture.”, Peeta is still looking at the picture and you feel a ton of emotions going through you at his words. Feelings of safety going through you and flashes of yellow cakes and laughter echoing, the images still blurry in your mind.

“These memories, they helped me get through the torture in the capitol.”, he whispers after a moment, and you can’t help but squeeze his hand at his words feeling tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember them well.”, you whisper after a moment and Peeta looks at you with a kind smile.

“That’s alright, they’ll come back. I’ll help you.”, he says, and you can’t help but let the tear fall down your cheek.

“I’ll help you too, tell me what you need, and I’ll be there.”, Peeta smiles at your words and squeezes your hand. 

“Just you being there is already enough, it gets lonely here.”, you know what he means so you stay there for a moment in silence looking at the picture for a moment.

“I just, I don’t remember anything.”, you whisper after a moment while looking at the picture, longing for the memories to come back. Silence surrounds you for a moment before his voice breaks through.

“Your parents owned the butcher shop that was right next to the bakery, which meant we grew up together. I was reaped during the 74the Hunger Games, and you were reaped for the 75th, which you won. We helped each other through the nights filled with nightmares and I felt responsible for you, like a big brother of some sort.”, you look at him slightly surprised at his words, but he doesn’t look done.

“Still, you looked broken, which made sense after the games you went through. The one time I saw you smile again like before was when you met Finnick during your victory tour. The two of you had spent the early hours of the morning talking together and after that you couldn’t be separated when you were together. When we went back for the 76th Hunger Games you spent the most time with him, laughing and letting him in like you had never done with anyone before.”, tears are forming in your eyes at his words, but you listen to him as he talks.

“You came back one morning with the largest smile I had ever seen, Finnick and you had spent the night together and you couldn’t stop smiling that day which made people look at you like you were crazy. You loved him so much and I know that deep down you still do you just don’t remember it yet.”, a few tears leave your eyes and roll down your cheeks at his words.

“Thank you.”, you manage to whisper, and he looks at you with a kind smile.

“You don’t need to thank me, whatever you want to know you can ask.”, you nod slowly at his words before a voice breaks through the silence letting you know it’s time.

“Guess that is my cue.”, you whisper and Peeta smiles at you sadly.

“I’ll see you next time.”, he says, with a doubtful look but you squeeze his hand in reassurance.

“I’ll be back.”, the two of you smile at each other before you leave towards the door feeling slightly lighter.

The door buzzes behind you and as you turn around you see him, Finnick, looking at you slightly surprised. His red eyes make the color of his eyes pop out and before you can say anything you go towards him. He looks at you surprised but he lets you look at him for a moment.

“I know you meant the world to me, help me remember that.”, you whisper, and you don’t know if he heard you before he nods slowly.

“Anything you want.”, he says after a few seconds and you nod quietly, smiling at him softly.

“Thank you.”, you tell him before Boggs appear and you smile one last time towards Finnick before leaving towards Boggs.

His eyes never leave your figure and even though you can’t see it a lovesick smile appears on his face, his heart beating faster.

Taglist: @nobody7102, @universal-s1ut, @wannapizzamymindposts, @ladystratus

[pseudowho]

haitch i think this is a very personal question but i’m having this little moment in my life where i don’t know what i’m gonna do and you’re someone that i trust to make this question

how did you choose your major/job ? i’m brazilian and we had this huge exam that is basically the way to get into college/university and on the 13th i will get my results and depending on them i will know if i’m able to get to into a good place (here we have public universities, like you don’t pay shit but it’s kinda of hard to get in and you need to have “decent” results but we also have private ones)

i’m struggling because i don’t really have something that i dream of doing and i know that i don’t need to do something for the rest of my life based on the major that i did but it’s just so hard

i’m not against going to a different city/state for it, my main struggle is just deciding, obviously i know that going to a new place is going to be hard since everyone that i know lives in the same state as i do at this moment and going to a place without someone to help on a emergency is hard and probably dangerous

i’m just sad and anxious and i don’t know what to do with my life right now, i always thought that i was too stupid to do certain majors (i know i’m not but it’s hard to not think this was when you were never encouraged)

im really sorry for the long message just to ask a question, i just thought that giving you a little perspective would help

also i’m pretty sure that i made some grammatical mistakes but i’m sleep deprived and with a killing headache i’m sorry

Morning! 🌞 I'm sorry you're feeling shit. Take some pain relief and have some water if you can. I'm sure it's really late there, but early here.

The truth is, it's normal to not know what you want to do, with a job or career. Especially, as young as you are. Our society pushes us to choose a route early, before we even truly know ourselves, or what the world of work in any given career is like.

I, for instance, would choose something other than Midwifery, if I could go back with all the knowledge I have to my 18 year old self. It's not to say I don't love the job, and it's changed me as a person for the better I think; but it's also taken a lot away from me. As it is, I cannot regret it-- I've helped a lot of people and it's made me who I am today. But...you see what I mean. Still, I would choose something else.

It's important to accept that whatever job you take, it's how you grow as a person that will affect your future happiness the most. You are not your job. The way you grow to understand yourself as an adult, your morals and ethics, your ability to remain accountable for your actions and growth at all times, are vital, whether you're a cashier, or a horticulturalist,

Still, I'm realistic; you do, unfortunately, in the world in which we live, have to make a decision.

I think the best thing I can recommend, is trying to widen your perspective away from a singular job, and into an career area; ask yourself:

Is there a job I could do which would be adjacent to a lot of different jobs I may be interested in, one day?

Is there a job I could take, which would offer me further training opportunities which would make me a good candidate for a great number of different jobs?

Is there a job I can take which would offer me attractive transferable skills?

Is it more important, at this point in time, to choose any job in my local area, so I can work on myself, my anxiety and my self-confidence before I venture further into the world?

Don't be overwhelmed by these questions. You are not a failure if you don't launch headfirst into the career you will have for the rest of your life in your early twenties. It's just an opportunity to know yourself better. Build the infrastructure on which you're healthy enough, and varied enough in your transferable skills, to then confidently choose a career path if and when you feel ready. There will be opportunities.

You are smart and capable enough to do this. Come out of panic mode, and into the light.

And remember...as our favourite best boy says:

Whatever you do, there will always be an element of work that is shit.

But the moral of Nanami's story is that enjoying life should not be put on the back burner until certain 'ideal conditions' are met, and that you are not the sum of your job. And also that you should hit things that personally offend you, protect the weak, and remain suspicious of people you barely know who are touchy-feely. And you should help the babies.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[gartenofbanny]

Moxxie’s Moral Compass isn’t consistent with his actions.

Moxxie is the nicer and morally better character in Helluva Boss. Millie just kills because she's a maniac like that, Loona kills whenever she's told to, and Blitzo kills for his clients, but doesn't really care about the collateral damage or aftermath. Moxxie is the only character in Helluva Boss who at least tries to minimize the destruction, while still completing his job in the process.

Well, that's what I'm shown and pieced together in the first episode of Helluva Boss, but it doesn't follow through like many other things in this show. The actions Moxxie takes in later episodes contradict his morals established in the first one and today I'm going to list those actions.

 The Actions

In Spring Broken, after Blitzo gave the rest of the main cast a plan in order to get a lot of kills to win their competition, Moxxie says that they can't go up there to mindlessly kill or massacre, but later on in the episode Moxxie and Millie proceed to kill humans on the random. This raised a question within the episode that is, Moxxie and Millie shouldn't be entirely sure that the people they're killing are their targets and if they were then how did he know? They needed Loona to identify the targets for them so that they can kill the targets in a less populated area, and yet this scene either shows that they didn't need her at all or they're just killing aimlessly which negates what Moxxie said. Either Moxxie's morals are inconsistent or the entire plan featuring Loona was pretty much pointless, but either option shows that the writing for this scene was not consistent with the rest of the episode. 

 He attempts to give cannibalistic children who worship Satan and their father a second chance at life but doesn't do so with young adults that seemingly didn’t even do anything wrong. Literally, all the humans in Spring Broken did was drink alcohol, take drugs, and party. So Moxxie’s morals for this scene specifically was out the window. 

In the next episode, C.H.E.R.U.B: Moxxie and Millie are shooting and killing people in a rotation while making out. Even though Millie was doing the shooting, Moxxie didn't do anything about it and just continued to make out with his wife.

Compare this to the scene all the way back in episode 1 where Blitzo was about to kill Martha, but Moxxie prevents him from doing so because he doesn't want Blitzo to ruin a seemingly wholesome family. So, again, when it came down to killing cannibalistic children and their father, Moxxie couldn't do it and gave them a second chance.

But when it came to people that were just watching an opera that happened to be in an unexpected battleground and were killed as a result, it's fine? Like he literally does not care or even thought about what he did, he just makes fun of the Cherubs because they caused Lipton's death unintentionally. This is giving me a damn headache.

I almost forgot to mention that Moxxie pretty much encouraged Lipton to off himself throughout the episode, regardless if it was for the mission or not, Moxxie from episode one likely wouldn't have been acting like that at all. He probably would've just killed Lipton straight up in order to speed up their job, not watch some guy off himself, and not waste time trying to be in competition with the Cherubs.

And lastly, this problem with Moxxie’s morality not being consistent with his actions can actually stem all the way back to the pilot, but people mainly dismiss this because it's the pilot. I'm still adding it anyway despite it being the pilot it still doesn’t make sense. So in the pilot, Moxxie accidentally shoots and fatally wounds Eddie and is pretty much traumatized after they rushed him to the hospital. It was likely Moxxie's idea to do so.

Though once Loona gets a call that Eddie was the right target, he helps Blitzo and Millie by making sure Eddie was dead, by cutting apart his fucking body, placing it in a trash bag, and dropping it in front of Eddie's mother. So what was the point in making Moxxie feel bad for killing a kid when he doesn't feel bad for the kid after Blitzo kills him?

Conclusion

I would pretty much forgive all of this if Moxxie was established to be as cruel as Millie and Blitzo, but he wasn't and I still don't believe that he's depicted that way, especially with EXES and OOHS out. Honestly, I don't know what to expect at this point because if this problem stemmed all the way back to the pilot then I am positive that something is wrong. Anyway, that's all I have for today, thank you all for reading and I hope you all have a nice day! ❤️

[helenofsimblr]

Cat: It's one STUPID fucking sentence and I won't add it in! They want the piece to conform to the newest fad and much like Nickie Catzenberg, I've had my fill of people telling me what to say, when to say it, and how to fucking say it!

Elita: Lyra blinks a bit, somewhat surprised by the venom in Cat's voice. And can you blame her? Cat had always been a very kind and soft spoken woman, today, she was spitting nails.

Lyra: Yeah well, you've got a lot going on right now.

Cat: The sentence does not add anything worthy to the piece. I'm not doing it... we can take it as high as she wants... I will not damn well budge on it. Sorry, I'm just really tired and sore is all…

Lyra: No need to apologise Cat, sometimes we gotta get stuff off our chest, and we both know you  have a lot to think about. Sorry to sidetrack Cat, is it ok if I can have a cigarette? Or would you prefer me to go outside? 

****

Elita: Cat in fairness knew she couldn’t exile her pregnant friend into the cold. Lyra only had a T shirt on because of how hot it was in the car. Heater was bust and stuck on to full power.

Cat: It’s freezing out there,  smoke in here... the fumes from the car usually overpowers any other smells in here. Sal seems to forget that I'm up here and starts the car in the morning and the fumes seem to leak up here. I'm hoping the floor guy can figure out how to stop it.

Lyra: Let's hope there's no gasoline then and I blow us up! 

Elita: No laugh… tough room. I thought that was funny.

Cat: Shouldn't be, but I plan on getting a monoxide meter just in case she's secretly working for Kali and trying to kill me.

Lyra: You probably need a floor liner or something to trap it down below. Or Sal needs a better car…

****

Cat: The car is actually pretty nice, she's just not taking care of the maintenance. Not sure why.

Lyra: So, uh, you mentioned sore... did you hurt yourself? 

Cat *sighs*: I didn't think so, but since sleeping on that wretched thing that passes as a bed... I wake up with sore hips and headaches too... and I'm really fucking irritable because I'm tired all the time. I have yet to make the appointments for a check in... just to make sure it's not something medical. I just don't have time to deal with it and watch for Kali... get a divorce, keep my job and remodel this place. I'm worried the nightmares will start up again. I keep waking up naked... and I never sleep like that. Always worried about having to run and don't want to do it naked… Not that I could outrun a fucking super solider anyway!

Elita: Lyra cleared her throat then took another drag on her cig and exhaled. Cat was in a bad mood. Her language was not the best, and she had a very aggressive tone to her. Does that sound like Cat to you? Because it doesn’t to me.

Lyra: Not much longer now Cat, I'm sure Stella will send you somebody up to the task. She got Judith off when she was guilty as fuck, your divorce is going to be fine. I think a lot of it is stress honey.

[madstheauthor]

Don’t Call Me Aaron

Part 3:

WORDS: 1.2K

{TW: VIOLELNCE,WEAPONS}

The next morning I woke up with a pounding headache and extreme tiredness when my alarm goes off, which makes sense considering I didn’t even fall asleep until almost three. Flashbacks of Hotch and the bar start to flood my brain.

Oh god that was real?

I climb out of bed and get ready for work, nervous about having to face Hotchner today. I can’t believe I came on to him last night. So embarrassing. I finish doing my hair and put my shoes on so I can get to the station on time.

When I arrived everyone was already inside. I grab my coat and head towards the door. Once I got to the main room, everyone's eyes were on me, but the only ones I cared about were Hotch’s. His eyes almost looked as if they were trying to ask me if I was okay, to which I nodded yes.

JJ and Morgan began talking about the findings from the crime scene yesterday.

“We got a DNA match on the fingerprints Garcia ran yesterday. They didn’t match the victims so I had Penelope do some digging and I think we got our guy.” Morgan said

“Do we have an address?” Hotch asked Garcia who was on a video call.

“Way ahead of you cupcake, check your phones.” She said as she ended the call.

“Okay everyone, let’s move.” Hotchner said as everyone headed back into their vehicles.

. . .

We pulled up at the house and everyone jumped out. Derek was the first one to get to the front door.

“FBI open up!” He started “Or we’re coming in!” No answer so Morgan kicked the door in and we started searching the house.

“Bathroom is clear!” Emily shouted.

“Clear!” Rossi shouted from the kitchen.

“Clear here too!” Hotch shouted from the garage.

I continued past them and was the first to go up the stairs. I was careful to be sure I was quiet. I reached the top and checked behind me before swiftly continuing. I reached the end of a long hallway and just barely entered the bedroom when I froze in my place.

There he was, standing in the middle of the room, with a gun pointed straight to my head.

“If you make a sound, you’re dead.” He said. His voice sounded just as evil as he was. I wish the team had telepathy, I tried with all my might to signal through some kind of brain connection, that something was wrong up here, but I don’t think anyone got my signal.

“Please, let me go.” I whisper as quietly as possible.” Before he could respond we heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Please be Hotch, I want him to be the last thing I see if I’m going to die. He won’t admit it but he cares about me, and I think he’s clueless to the fact that everyone around him knows. He loves and cares for everyone on this team. We really are like a family, not that he would tell anyone. Aaron is someone who rarely smiles. But when he does, man, he lights up the whole room. He may look scary on the surface, but he’s one of the only ones I would trust with my life. I will always have his back, and I know he’s got mine.

The footsteps are right down the hallways now.

I hear Hotch calling out to me, but I don’t respond. I feel a little relieved knowing that it’s Aaron.

As soon as he walks through the bedroom door and sees what’s going on, he immediately knows what to do.

“Let her go, now.” He tells him, and if I was the killer, I’d be terrified of Hotch right now. His eyes are dark and you can tell he means it.

“And why would I do that?” He smiles, “Just look at her, she’s perfect.” Then he leans down to smell my hair. “ And she smells like an angel.” I try not to cry but I can’t stop the tears from swelling in my eyes.

“I swear to god, one move and your dead.” Hotch tells the man, who is still holding me to his chest, and I can feel the barrel against my skull.

“Do it, and she goes with me.” He tells him. By now, the rest of the team is right outside the door ready in case anything happens.

“Why’d you do it?” Hotch asked the killer, “Why did you kill and butcher 6 women?”

“Because they’re beautiful, and I deserve them all to myself, each and every part.” He says with a wicked smile following.

The killer takes the barrel off my head and aims it toward Hotch, but before I could blink.”,

BAM, BAM, BAM.

I was too afraid to open my eyes to see who won. I was scared that Aaron was going to be down and I would never forgive myself for that.

I peel one eye open to see my surroundings, and I almost couldn’t hold back my smile when I saw Hotch standing in front of me.

“Aaron, thank god,” I said, running and hugging him tightly. I never want to let go. “I thought for a moment that you were gone.” I cry, letting all of it out now, not bothering to even try to hold myself together.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m okay. But what’s more important is that you’re okay too.” He tells me as he embraces my hug with one hand on my head and the other on the small of my back. I unfold with his touch and I’m lost in his smell. I never realized how much taller he was. The top of my head just barely reached his shoulders.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.” He whispers in my ear and we head down the stairs out of this hell house.

“Guys, I’m gonna ride with Hotch if that’s okay.” I tell the rest of the team. JJ turns around and gives me a comforting nod.

Me and Aaron climb into the car together, with him in the driver's seat. The drive was silent for a while. I was just enjoying his company, for the most part, he is comforting to be around.

“Are you okay?” He asked me. I thought about it for a minute before answering.

“I will be eventually. This was one hell of a birthday.” I told him and he looked over at me, surprise littered over all his features.

“How did I not know that today was your birthday?” He questioned. And to be honest, I didn’t have a good response.

“I don’t know. I guess the thought didn’t come across me until now.” I told him honestly.

“Well we have a few more hours until we need to leave. How about I take you out somewhere so we can celebrate?” He asked me.

“I don’t know if I’m up for a big thing, I did just almost die.” I say, sorta laughing about the whole thing.

“Well maybe we can do something in the hotel room? Like why don’t I make you dinner?” He questioned, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I think I’d like that Aaron.” I told him with a wink at the use of his first name.

“Don’t call me Aaron.” He said through a chuckle, and we headed back to the hotel.

[narcolini]

the last stretch

lalo salamanca & gn!reader, whump, 18+, 1588 words

warnings for major character death, descriptions of blood & injuries

for day 8 of whumpril : dehydration

a/n: just a short one today, and tbh it feels more similar in style to my original fiction vs. my fanfic, so i hope u enjoy! are they friends? enemies? who knows!

tagging: @hausofmamadas @drabbles-mc​ @cositapreciosa​

You’ve been walking for hours, a day, maybe, or two, without getting anywhere at all. As far as you could bare to endure in one direction, and then back to the car, then as far as you could manage the opposite way. Never straying far from the crash site, never letting it out of your view on the horizon. You couldn’t. Lalo wouldn’t let you.

No matter how tired you got, no matter how chapped your lips, how sore your heels, how sharp the headache—it was the same, over and over. ‘Keep looking, carnal,’ he’d say, ‘there’s got to be life here somewhere, right?’

In this particular effort, you’ve managed to find a—well, you don’t know what the fuck it is, really, or what it used to be. Right now, it’s a three-walled structure, with half a roof and enough shade to make it look like a haven.

He doesn’t complain when you suggest taking a break there. Just for a bit, just long enough to relax your eyes from the permeant squint they’ve adopted. It’s probably because he knows that you’d ignore him if he did, or tell him he can go back to the busted vehicle and drink the gas from the tank. Light yourself while you’re at it, cabrón.

Sitting down feels like dying, in a way, it takes everything out of you to do it slowly, and somewhat carefully. If you didn’t put actual effort into avoiding it, you probably would’ve dropped hard enough to break something, right on the tailbone. You probably would’ve shattered from the blood-level dehydration you’re suffering through.

You sigh, testing your head against the brick before settling it there. At first, you expected it to be scalding hot, to singe your scalp the way the sun has, but it’s cool. Cold, even. Long enough in the shade, that it feels like sticking your head in the drinks fridge at Safeway.

‘We’re going to die out here, aren’t we?’ you ask, eyes closed, feeling Lalo sit beside you.

He grunts as he lowers himself, his boots catching on your jeans as he stretches his legs out in front. ‘Oye, maybe. Maybe not.’ He groans again, getting comfortable, because he’s a man of that age and that’s all they do. ‘You should have stayed when I told you to, carnal.’

You laugh, snorting hot air over your desert-dusted face. ‘I should have never fucking met you in the first place.’

‘Come on,’ he croons, ‘we have fun, no?’

Had, past tense. You turn your head to look at him. ‘If we survive, I’m killing you before anyone else.’

He smiles, all in the mouth, unable to lift it into the creases by his eyes. The time you’ve spent out here has got to him, worse than it’s got to you. ‘Alright,’ he nods, ‘if that’s what you want.’

As if he’d go that easy, as if he’d even let you get close enough to try. The only thing that would kill him is—

‘But, I thought you were done with killing,’ he says, and it feels like he’s laughing at you now, not with you. ‘Ya no es divertido, Lalo,’ he mocks, doing the worst impression of your voice that he possibly could. ‘What happened to that, hm?’

You happened, you want to say, you and all your charm and all the bullshit it comes with. ‘The same thing that always happens, Lalo, money.’ And lack of it. ‘You know I never would’ve come out here if I wasn’t desperate.’

He shakes his head, amused by the non-confession. ‘Wow, and I thought we were good together.’

‘Define good,’ you snort, putting your head back to the wall. The cold is helping, you think, making things seem real again. Sharpening the mirage. ‘I think you were the worst thing to ever happen to me.’

You know that he’s grinning. He would be. ‘Is there a prize? I’ve got the perfect place for a trophy.’

‘Yeah,’ you tell him, ‘yeah, I’ll get you a fucking trophy.’ He can put it on the dashboard of his stupid immobilised car.

After a moment, or ten minutes, Lalo sighs. ‘You know,’ he says, linking his hands over his lap, ‘there’s a flare in the trunk.’

‘What?’ You snap back to him. ‘A flare?’

His eyebrows go up at your alarm, face coming alive with false offence. ‘What? I can’t be smart like that? Soy un hombre del mundo, ya sabes.’ He pauses. ‘Y chulo, sí me sientes.’

You tut, putting a lifeless tonto under your breath.

‘There’s even a first aid kit,’ he adds, steaming with pride. As if the contents of his trunk excuses the rest of the shit this chingamadre has put you through, as if it wasn’t his fault that you crashed out in the first place.

‘I think it’s a little too late for that.’ A bandage won’t undo any of this, it won’t even touch the surface.

‘Si,’ he agrees, sighing wistfully afterwards. ‘But the flare can help, no? Oooh,’ his eyes go wide again, ‘maybe they’ll airlift you out.’

‘Or maybe no-one will see the flare at all, and I’ll be right back where I started, Lalo.’

‘Eh.’ He shrugs, waving you off. ‘It’s worth a shot. One of us should get out of here alive, to finish business.’

You look at him, then his arm, broken still, with white bone through the skin of his elbow. There’s red on his forehead too, now, that you’ve seen before, but had forgotten about. Blood dripping down and over his eyes, clotting in the lashes.

He laughs. ‘Y, no seré yo, verdad?’

You nod. It’s not going to be him.

It takes hours, though it can’t have, that’s just how it feels. How slow time passes under the pulsing ache of your head, the dead weight of your feet. It crawls by, slower than you’re walking. Minutes, hours, days. You don’t even care any more. What matters, is you made it back to the crash site. To the car, exactly as you left it, but no longer on its side.

The smoking from the engine has stopped, and it doesn’t appear to have burst into flames the way you thought it might. No exploded gas tank, no shrapnel, metal and flesh alike. Just the car, on four wheels again, with its nose in the ditch. It must’ve fallen somehow, corrected itself in your latest absence.

The initial impact of the crash had burst the trunk open, luckily, not fully, but enough to get both arms in and root around. If there is something in there, you’ll be able to get it free from the wreckage. Probably. You haven’t tried flexing your fingers around anything in a while, so they might snap off completely when you do, dry enough from the heat that they crumble like driftwood at the slightest bend.

You put your thighs to the tailgate, leaning all your weight onto it, because stationary and upright isn’t a thing you can manage right now, and begin digging in the contents of the trunk. You pull out the bigger stuff first—tarp, garbage bags, a crow-bar—and dump it at your feet.

The guy drives around like a cartoon villain, and for what? None of this shit can help him now.

When it’s empty, you find no flare—obviously, there’s no flare—and feel like screaming because of it, like forcing the bent trunk shut and swearing into the sky, but all of that requires more energy than you have left. You’re too tired to call a bastard, a bastard, even when he’s sitting right there in the driver’s seat.

May as well say good-bye, though. If you’re going down that route, all out of options at last.

You pick up a foot, put it in front of the other, repeat. Drag yourself from the back of the car, to the side, world spinning as you make it into the deepest part of the trench.

Before you can peer through the open passenger door, you spot an unnatural shape beneath your shoe. A phone, a fucking, satellite phone. One that’ll get reception, unlike the useless one you’re carrying. Unlike Lalo’s, that’s in his front pocket still, untouched because you were too sentimental to try and reach for it.

You bend, pick up the phone, check the screen—full battery—and laugh. Fuck, it was worth it, then. Coming back here. He was smart enough to carry a phone that could survive the desert when nothing else did.

‘Lalito,’ you say, folding at the waist, free hand on the roof of the car. ‘You might’ve just saved my life, man.’

He’s moved since you last said good-bye. Fallen back from the wheel and to the side slightly. His broken arm sits on his lap now, beside the gun that his other hand had never lifted to his head, you assume. Dead from his injuries before he could finish the job himself.

‘Thank-you,’ you tell him, lifting the phone limply—unable to give it the smug, victory shake that you’d imagined. I won, you think, me, not you. I found the phone first.

He doesn’t answer. You can’t pretend that he does, either, when he’s slumped against the window like that. Chin on his chest, blood over his eyes. He doesn’t spring to life in your imagination like he had done before.

It’s shame, really, because you were just starting to get attached.

[jjmaybankswifes-blog]

steve harrington x fem reader

warnings fluff, loss of a brother

contains fluff and enemies to lovers and family loss

MINORS DNI

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your brother was murdered three years ago today you begged to not have to go to school but here you are sitting in class next to robin buckley and behind steve the hair harrington you were in a bad mood all day you had a headache from crying so much last night and the teachers voice was not helping

after the bell rang after what felt like a year you speed walk out of there and you don't look where you're going and you bump straight into someone and hit your head on the ground and you have to go to the nurse and the worst part was is the person who had to walk you was steve the hair Harrington he made your headache worse and he didn't even talk

once you finally get out of the nurses office you get looks because you have a bandage on your head and you get called names for being clumsy but steve and his goons which makes it way harder not to cry today they are the last thing you need but they don't know that

you aren't allowed to tell anyone about your brother because you know you will get bullied and you can't take that and have to grove your best friend you also realized that the saying "it will get better with time" is fake as hell it gets way harder

you hate steve harrington with a passion you hate his stupid hair his stupid face his stupid voice his stupidly loud footsteps you hate the fact he does want you and you want him you hate that he wants nancy

you're walking to your locker when you get to your locker you are very unhappy to see steve (the hair) harrington waiting for you

"the fuck you want" you ask "did you do the homework?" steve asks " yea but youre not getting it" you say " why not" steve asks with a smirk knowing he's getting on your nerves

[time skip after school]

you're sitting down on a picnic bench doing your homework in the middle of the woods not expecting anyone to be out here you blast music "can you turn that shit down" you here a familiar voice say "steve? what are you doing out here?" you ask annoyed you really just wanted to be alone today

" just walking around something wrong?" he asks "can you leave me alone i don't wanna talk to you" you say "who said i wanted to talk to you?" steve asks with a smirk and you start crying lightly not knowing why you would especially talking to steve harrington

"holy shit are you crying?" steve asks genuinely concerned "yea i'm fucking crying steve the fuck you care can you just leave me alone" you yell steve just stands there looking at you in shock and you start having crying so hard you can't breathe and he realizes

he walks over and knells next to you " hey it's alright take some deep breaths with me okay" "okay" you manage to get out

he breathes in and you breathe in and he breathes out and you breathe out and you both do it until you are calmed down and can breathe normally

"what's wrong (y/n)?" steve asks worried you don't know why but you trust him enough to tell him everything

"it's my brothers death day anniversary he was murdered three years ago today and i have to go to his grave later and i don't want to because it's gonna be so hard and i can't tell anyone because no one knows except now you" you spit out so fast he could barely understand some of the words

"why didn't you tell anyone?" "because i would get bullied for it and don't even say i wouldn't you would have bullied me too" you say tearing up again steve wipes your tears and says " i wouldn't have bullied you for it and i'm not gonna bully you at all anymore you don't deserve anything you're going through and i'm sorry for being an asshole" you don't know what to say so you just hug him and he hugs back taking that as you forgiving him

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i was gonna make this a random story but it's been three years since my brother was killed so i used that instead to make this it's not the best but 🤷🏼‍♀️

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

The roar of disbelief and anger that Daemon let out was loud and heartbreaking. It was the second sign that something had happened to you. Daemon wouldn’t have sounded so sad for anyone else on the battlefield. The first sign was the sharp pain that hit your leg. It was Daemon’s yell that had you dropping to the ground, finally registering the wound. You hadn’t thought much of the pain at first but that yell..

The arrow was still sticking out of your leg and you didn’t have the time or the supplies to remove it. Instead, you painfully made your way to your feet and started to move your way from the fighting. You knew that Daemon wouldn’t stop until he reached your side unless he knew you were safe. However, he was needed on the field — he was one of, if not the best, warrior in the realm. They wouldn’t be able to finish taking the Stepstones and kill the Crabfeeder without him.

Finally back at the boats, you collapsed on the sand. Your leg was on fire but you were in one of the safest places on the island. If you weren’t safe here, that meant nearly everyone else was dead and then it didn’t matter where you were.

Lying prone on the ground, you watched as the sky’s colors began to swirl together. The clouds today looked gorgeous but that could just be because they reminded you so much of Daemon’s hair. They were sooooo pretty…

Time had had lost all meaning for you when Daemon appeared above you. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but you liked looking at his lips as they moved. They were so pretty too. Just like his hair. So pretty.

Something was shaking you a lot, sending the ringing in your head clamoring. It was distracting and it really hurt. You wished they’d stop. You tried to tell them that but you couldn’t get your tongue to move. Or was it your lippsss…

When you next opened your eyes, you quickly shut them again. The headache was gods near deliberating and the rocking of the sip wasn’t helping. You were pretty sure the only reason you didn’t barf was because there was nothing in your stomach to come up.

“It’s ok, issa jorrāelagon. It’s all gonna be ok. You’re gonna be ok,” Daemon kept uttering such words as he bent over you. He placed a small kiss on your forehead then buried his head in your shoulder, his hand a vice around yours.

Painfully, you turned your head to bump your chin into the top of his head, breathing in the scent of battle that still lingered on him. “…it’s over?”

“Of course it fucking is. He was the one who fucking shot you. The fucking cunt wasn’t gonna live after that,” he sounded offended that you doubted him but he still didn’t raise his head or relax his hand.

“Good. Back home then?” You carefully started to flex everything, trying to see if anything but your leg and your head hurt. There was nothing but the general ache that you now associated with the aftermath of battle. Good.

“Driftmark. I don’t want to chance moving you further than I have too and Corlys offered you a spot. He saw it happen and he’s pretty sure that Laenor was the actual target. He sends his thanks and his fastest ship,” Daemon finally sat up, carefully swatting you. “Stop moving you brat and just ask me. The only injury you have is the arrow wound in your leg and probably a headache from blood loss.”

“Definitely a headache,” you shifted your hands around, twining your fingers through his.

“Want something to drink?” He had already started to stretch out to grip the pitcher behind him.

“Only if you lay with me. I don’t want to be alone,” sitting up, you took a sip of whatever was in the cup Daemon held for you.

“Of course. For as long as you’d like,” Daemon moved you about to make room for his broad figure.

“…not too long. You reek,” you started to giggle helplessly, Daemon starting to wiggle his fingers against your side.

“Say that again, I dare you,” he growled the playful threat against the skin of your throat, scraping his teeth down the curve of it.

“I wish, my dragon. But probably not the best idea when we’re still covered in blood and guts with my leg having a new hole through it,” Daemon finally settled back, carefully pulling you tight against his side.

“Something to look forward to then.”

“Promises, promises.”

@whumpuary

[martieshub]

❛Be that as it may, I'm not blind. The last few months you've gotten quieter. Reserved. I'm not dumb. You went from the golden flame flickering around because you had him to this. But things changed. You changed. You dimmed yourself for someone who had no issues dropping you. Don't you think that's pathetic? ❜ she snorted and rolled her eyes. ❛That's what they all say but bunch of them are actually in denial. Just because it's easier. I do. I'll come with it in due time. Patience. ❜

She looked at her and chewed her lip. ❛Because I'd wager you'd rather have him like this then not have him at all. If you switched then you wouldn't see him at all and that kills you. Pathetically, you know if you moved or whatever, that any chance of you staying in his life would be slim. If you don't have work then what else do you have? ❜

Following after her and catching the last bit she raised an eyebrow. A double date? ❛Really? ❜The shocked tone that her voice took on made her want to half chuckle and half giggle at the sudden outburst from Eli. ❛Looks like I don't even have to do anything. Guess I go change them for our double date. ❜ Eli gave Laurel a look to say Jack was gonna be going with Mark so to not say anything yet. He knew they had a dinner date later so this would just save everyone a headache. Jack giddily walked away leaving the two of them alone as she thought she had won this one. Though from the look on the guys faces she knew that her little game had just put into place something entirely more amusing. It was clear there was still something there if anything they were dumb to notice. Regardless Jack didn't care, end of day it didn't affect her. What did, was performance at the job.

Taking little to not time to get changed into a black and purple number she let her curls out of its constraints and walked back out. Make up still in tact as if she hadn't just sweated out on the field. She stood between them like a puzzle piece that shouldn't be there and grinned. ❛Did you guys know that the rumba is the sexiest dance ever? Second only to salsa. It reminds me of that op in Panama. ❜ She grinned when there was a reaction from Eli and continued on. ❛I wish we could go back. That was a fun trip wasn't it? ❜ Her shoulder bumped his as she took a glance at Laurel. ❛didn't you have that sexy little number? Yeah, wasn't it like one of those rolled up sleeves and a navy shirt. I thought you looked like a sailor. You in that elevator was one of the sexiest things I'd ever witnessed. Tell me, was that the first time using your teeth? ❜ Content with where she'd left the conversation she smirked and took his arm. ❛Shall we? ❜

Eli rolled his eyes and pushed his hair back putting his cap on the way he had it before. He slinked his arm out of her grasp and broke apart from her to hang back and wait for Laurel. ❛She does have a point. Panama was fun. ❜ It wasn't about the mission itself but what had transpired before and after. ❛One of my top five memories. ❜ He got quiet knowing how that couldn't possibly fix everything he had broken. ❛What kind of shit did you get today? ❜

❛It was,❜ she insisted, though Laurel didn’t know if it was to convince her or herself. ❛You don’t know anything about us, okay? Yeah I know about NSC. Well, maybe you need new horizons.❜ But, no matter how much she disliked Jack, she was right. They needed her here, that much had been proven in Roswell. ❛So nice of you to worry, but I’m not in the mood for other ventures.❜ The roll of her eyes was quick, she shouldn’t be surprised. Holding it over her was probably more enjoyable than just cashing in the favor. It just annoyed her to owe someone, to be in someone else’s hands. Not that she’d let that show. ❛Right, can’t say I’m surprised. Well, you know where to find me when you want your payment.❜

Without as much context, she was delivering every point that Laurel had fought to ignore up until now. No one had brought these things up. Her friends didn’t know, despite their best attempts to pull them aside to ask what happened between them. Her parents, well they hadn’t known anything about her life in some time. So, to be confronted this way by the person she least expected, well it was making her head hurt. ❛You keep making these wild claims without actually knowing anything, relying on office gossip and whispers. It’s not torture. We ended things amicably, I mean we still work together for god’s sake. Why would we do that if it’s torture? Understanding me isn’t in your job description, is it?❜ For a moment, she began believing her own explanation, and maybe that’s what she needed. Feeding herself enough lies and delusion until it no longer hurt. Her gaze followed Jack’s, back to the field and Eli. He was such a natural there. ❛So, what? You’ve been staring at us for a while, congrats. Well, maybe you’re not familiar with relationships but that’s what happens. You stop doing certain things. I’ve told you before that I don’t care if you take him to the locker rooms or he takes you home to reinvent fucking. You just can’t stand his rejections, and it’s easier to pin it on me.❜

What was Jack doing? Laurel looked over at Mark, shaking her head adamantly at him as she spoke, but he didn’t register it. Instead, just shrugging and signaling alright. Oh, she could kill her right now. Her eyes briefly went to Eli, and if he heard it, he didn’t look amused. Probably because of the plans they just made before his game started. If only she could communicate to him that this date was bogus. ❛What the hell is your problem?❜ she hissed, turning her attention back to Jack. ❛You can’t just make plans on my behalf, I already had plans tonight. A bad show, I don’t give a shit. I’m not going on a date with someone you picked out.❜ That, and she’s barely crossed three words with the guy, and she already had plans with Eli. Multiple reasons to say no. Laurel heard a commotion starting on the field, and she turned back to look, trying to identify what was happening.  ❛You have serious issues Jack. Sleep with him or don’t. I don’t care, but I sure as hell won’t help. Just leave me out of it. ❜ With that, she walked away from her and closer to the field. Laurel knew that would probably only buy her two minutes away from the woman. 

[amatchinwater]

Your Eddie / Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You (adoptive Carver sibling) go with Chrissy to her drug deal with Eddie, only to become jealous watching him flirt with her the whole time. Needing to make a buy of your own, you head to Eddie's trailer that night and end up telling him how you feel.

Words: 2628

Warnings: 18+ (language and drugs), could be seen as possessive behavior, light angst

a/n: this is my first imagine and ST fic and I'm super nervous...do it scared, right? Okay, fuck, here we go. Feel free to send a request if you'd like, I have two other ideas I'm working on. (Master list)

Not my gif, credit to creator!!

“You’re doing what?” You ask, trying your best not to shriek the word. 

“Meeting Eddie in the woods during lunch,” Chrissy shrugs her shoulder like it’s the most normal thing she’s ever said. “He said that he has something that could help me sleep. And get rid of the headaches I’ve been having lately.” 

“Drugs, Chris, he has drugs to sell you.” You’re not opposed to drugs, you’ve smoked plenty of times and see Reefer Rick more than Chrissy lately and she’s your best friend. It’s more so the fact that Ms. Perfect Head Cheerleader is willingly doing this that has you so shocked. “Are they really that bad?” You ask, wanting to make sure that she’s tried everything first. Her parents are super strict and you don’t want her to get in trouble. 

Not to mention your brother is a bit of a dick. No matter how much Jason claims he loves and cares about Chrissy, he’d flip his shit if he knew she turned to drugs. Even more so that said drugs came from Eddie Munson. ‘Freak of Hawkins High’ as your dear brother likes to call him. 

“I’m at the point of trying anything if it will make it stop,” Chrissy sighs, mouth drooping into a pout, “please come with me. It’s not that I don’t trust Eddie, I just don’t know what I’m doing. But you do. Please,” she draws out the word, resorting to pleading hands and slightly bouncing, making her blonde ponytail sway back and forth. 

With a groan, you bite your lip, “fine,” putting your hands on her shoulders to make her stop bouncing. “Let’s go,” you throw your arm over her, heading towards the exit. “I was actually looking forward to lunch today, you know. You owe me a burger.”

“Deal,” Chrissy giggles, returning your embrace as you both head for the woods. 

“If he tries to charge you more than forty, we’re leaving,” you say watching Chrissy sit down at the picnic table. She turns to protest, but you cut her off. “I will get you stuff from my guy. But I won’t let you be overcharged just because you have a pretty face, okay?” 

“And this is why I love you,” she beams a pearly white smile at you.

You roll your eyes playfully, “yeah, yeah, love you too, Chris.” 

“Chrissy Cunningham and Y/N Carver,” Eddie’s voice startles you from where you’re leaning against a tree. “Hawkins High sweethearts here to make a drug deal.” You roll your eyes at the comment, you may be a Carver by name, but you’re not a sweetheart. “Did our little town turn into the Twilight Zone and no one told me?” He grins, making your heart flutter. 

The whole reason you didn’t really want to be here. It’s not the drug deal. It’s not that you’re missing lunch to be here. It’s Eddie. The fearless leader of Hellfire that you’ve been in love with since freshman year. His brown eyes that are nearly black and so fucking hypnotizing. Curly hair that you just want to run your finger through and braid if he’d let you just so you had an excuse to touch it. God, and the rings adorning his fingers shining with the little wave he gives you while grinning. 

That fucking grin. 

It kills you every time you see it. Especially when it turns sinister towards Jason. You’re grateful for your adoptive family and love them in earnest. But your brother is a grade A dickhead. It’s nice to watch him get knocked down a peg or two every now and then. 

You’d been so busy thinking about Eddie that you didn’t even notice real Eddie already sat at the table with Chrissy, flipping open his metal box. You push off the tree to join them, sitting on the dead wood, thankful you chose ripped jeans today because surely this table is splinter city. 

“You really don’t remember me?” Eddie asks Chrissy. 

You cross your arms over your chest, knowing she probably doesn’t. She even says as much. Then Eddie throws himself off the bench, rolling in the leaves before hopping up. Causing a fit of giggles to bubble from your best friend’s chest. 

“Is there something in my hair?” He teases, brushing leaves and small twigs from his wild curls. 

What you wouldn’t give to be able to do that for him. Instead, you’re sitting here stewing. Watching the one guy you’ve had a crush on your entire high school career flirt with Chrissy. It really shouldn’t sting this much. You’ve had maybe three interactions with Eddie if you don’t count the times you’ve been partnered up in classes. Forced conversations don’t really count, now, do they? And Chris is beautiful. It’s not hard to see or understand someone- everyone- wanting to be with her. 

It just sucks that it’s Eddie. You tune out their entire exchange, opting to pick at a chipped part of the table. Until the giggles cease and you see the bag of weed get offered to Chrissy.

“Twenty bucks, whaddya say?” 

Chris looks at you in silent question. You examine the bag, seeing a decent amount of bud in the bag considering the price tag. Biting away the snort at the proof that he really must have a thing for her if he’s selling it for that cheap. You nod at her. 

“So glad you approve, princess,” Eddie says to you as Chrissy pays him and takes the bag. 

“Princess?” Chrissy’s face scrunches sweetly, asking the question burning the tip of your own tongue. 

A slight pink color stains his cheeks, gesturing between you two. “Queen of Hawkins High,” he points at your best friend. “Can’t have two queens, so,” Eddie makes a weird gesture, face getting redder, “so, princess. It made sense in my head,” he adds, closing the metal box, slinging his jacket and vest back over his arms. “Come find me if you need more,” Eddie gets up and walks away, “you, too, princess.”

“Thanks Eddie!” Chris calls at his retreating back. 

“Anytime,” he raises the ‘rock on’ symbol, sauntering through the trees.

After school, you make dinner for yourself since Jason is out for the game and your parents are away on some romantic getaway they just had to take. It’s whatever. You’re pretty used to fending for yourself before you were adopted, so it’s not like you’re incapable of cooking a meal. You just can’t seem to shake the irritation from watching Eddie and Chris from earlier. Maybe if you had told literally anyone how you felt about him, you wouldn’t have this giant green monster on your back. 

Who are you kidding? Of course you would. It would just be ten times worse because then you’d have to deal with the pity. But you know Chrissy. If anything she was just being nice to Eddie since he had what she wanted. Something of which you could desperately use right now. So once the dishes are cleaned, you head upstairs to your room for your stash. Completely forgetting that the last time you’d smoked, you’d used the last of it. 

“Shit,” you close the small tin, tucking it back between your mattress. Guess it’s time to call Reefer Rick again. Grumbling to yourself, you go right back downstairs to the phone and dial his number. It rings endlessly until the line finally clicks over to voicemail. You try calling three more times, meeting his voicemail every time. “Dammit,” you groan, slamming the phone back on the receiver. 

Not wanting to go to bed without it, knowing it will calm you more than anything and more than likely make you forget about earlier today for a time, you contemplate your options. You could just drive out to Rick’s. But his rules are to call first. Unyielding even. There’s only one other person in this town that you could get weed from: Eddie. Except you don’t have his phone number. But everyone in school knows where he lives. 

If you want a good night's sleep, you’re going to have to go there, hope he’s home, and hope that he has enough left to sell you. Hell, even if it’s just one spare joint, you’ll take it. You can manage to buy from him without making a total fool out of yourself. That’s totally a thing you’re capable of doing. 

Your body doesn’t seem to really care, because your hands have already grabbed your keys and backpack so that you have your wallet too and you’re walking out the front door into the night. 

Thankfully when you pull up to the trailer, Eddie’s van is sitting outside. Killing the engine, you drum your fingers on the steering wheel in hopes of expunging your nervous energy. “Don’t be a pussy, Y/N/N, you can do this,” you pump yourself up, yanking the keys from the ignition and practically throwing yourself out of the car. Hopping on the porch, your knuckles rap on the white door, trying to be louder than the music. 

It worked, because the music stops and after a few fumbling noises the front door yanks open, revealing Eddie still in his Hellfire raglan. “Carver,” he says in surprise, grinning as he leans against the doorframe, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Rick isn’t answering his phone,” you say, cutting right to the chase. Refusing to be enthralled by his presence when you know how he feels about Chrissy. It’s doing a really good job of making you feel bitter. “I was hoping you had more of what you sold to Chris.”

“Ouch,” his face scrunches, tone playful as he splays a hand over his chest, “I’m your second option?” 

You lift a shoulder in a half shrug, “why go through his dealer when I can get it from the source?” You nod your head to the side, “well, usually. Not tonight apparently.” 

“Fair enough,” Eddie grins again, dropping his hand and opening the door more. Waving his hand in the opening he says, “come on in, princess.” Your boot hovers over the threshold, nerves tickling your stomach again. At your hesitance, Eddie drops his voice, “I promise I won’t bite.”

I’d probably like it if you did. 

Shaking the thought from your head, you enter the trailer, waiting in the living room for him to close the door, admiring the wall of hats. “Collector?” You ask to fill the silence, curiosity getting the best of you. 

“They’re my uncles,” Eddie informs you, pointing towards the hallway, “stash is in my room. Anything particular you were looking for?” He asks, leading you through the trailer to his bedroom. “Hello, sweetheart,” Eddie strums his guitar strings, spinning on his heels to face you. 

You can’t help the small laugh at the act. The feeling of earlier might still be playing on a loop in your head, but seeing him be such a goof warms your heart. It’s not possible for it to not affect you no matter how hard you fight it. Eddie is attractive all around. And it’s chipping away at your defenses and you didn’t even process he was speaking to you until a hand waves in your face. 

“Yo,” Eddie whistles, waving his hand again to snap you back to the room, “off in fantasy land, princess?” He smiles at you. 

“I’m fine,” you reply a little harsher than you meant to. But trying to reign yourself in from being in Eddie fucking Munson’s room worked a little too well. Feelings for Chris or not, he’s the last person you want to be a bitch to.

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against his dresser, “what gives, Carver?” But he doesn’t sound angry. Or even look put off, to be honest. “I know you’re snarky, but what happened to the little smiles I usually get?” 

You freeze on the spot. Because if Eddie has noticed all the small smiles you’ve ever thrown his way, that means he’s noticed all the times you’ve caught yourself staring at him. Embarrassed with yourself, you stare at the carpet. Not wanting to admit that the reason you’re so bent out of shape is that your crush doesn’t like you. So you shove your own arms over your chest and grumble, “it’s nothing.” 

“No, no,” Eddie gets in your space, lifting your chin with his pointer, causing your breath to hitch and your eyes to widen. “Talk to me, sweet girl.” Sure, totally. If you could fucking breathe! “You used to be able to talk to me,” the finger falls from your chin along with his voice. Dropping to just above a whisper. Gentle. Soft. He takes a step back.

Utter shock washes over your face. When you first became a Carver, you were in middle school and had no friends. Jason was hitting puberty and wasn’t much help. You found yourself at the very picnic table you sat at with Chrissy and Eddie. And found a freshman drawing up plans for a D&D campaign. He was the first person to be nice to you. Eddie listened to you when you told him about adjusting to having a family was harder than you thought. 

Neither of you made it back to school that day you’d talked so long.  You didn’t think he’d remember that. 

It’s what planted the seeds for your crush on him. Once you started high school the following year, there was never a chance for you. Hook line and sinker right from the start.

But Eddie wants Chrissy.

The words spill from your mouth before you can stop them, “Chrissy!” You exclaim, unable to help yourself. Scoffing a laugh, “I love her, don’t get me wrong, but it’s always fucking Chrissy. She’s the one everyone wants. Not even you can help but flirt with her.”

Eddie laughs. Honest to god laughs. “You’re serious?” His eyes light up and he smiles. You glare at him. “Oh, you are serious,” Eddie chuckles under his breath, “okay.” He gets back in your space, ring clad hand rising to brush his fingers along your jaw and tsks when you lean into the touch. “Oh, princess, that wasn’t flirting. This is flirting.” 

Eddie is saying it more to your mouth than he is to your face. A fact you realize only once those dark eyes drag away from your lips. It’s really hot and your heart is pounding away in your ribcage trying to make an escape. You want to say something, anything, but there’s a fist in your throat preventing any words from coming out. 

His hand cups your face, thumb grazing along the skin, “Chrissy is great, sure.” Eddie licks his lip, never looking away from you as he moves a stray hair from your forehead, “but what good is a knight without his princess?” 

You sputter a laugh, “did you just use D&D as a pickup line on me?” 

“Did it work?” Eddie twists his face funnily. 

Another laugh pushes past your lips and you nod in his hand, “of course it did.” He could’ve beckoned you with one finger and your knees would give out. A cheesy line that’s just so Eddie is perfection. 

“Good,” he whispers, leaning in slow enough to give you a chance to pull back before his lips meet yours. It’s feather light and lasts all of a second, “my princess,” murmured against your mouth. 

You let out a soft whine at the declaration, crashing your lips back to Eddie’s as your fingers curl in his shirt to keep him close. “My Eddie?” You pant, eyes searching his, hoping this means what you want it to.

“Your Eddie,” he agrees, pulling you back in with a smile on his face. 

[cupidjyu]

you’ll get sick

(maknae line) what do they do when you’re sick !!

genre: FLUFF, cuddles, they’re such cuties, sickfic notes: second post! uh since i’ve been sick for multiple days (suffering) and bored rn LOL i wanted to indulge myself! also i decided to write the maknae line because i am so so so happy that sunric will be coming back!! i love them so much <3 also for the person who asked for the other members in the other post, dw!! ill get to it, i’m just incredibly busy rn :(( word count: 1k

haknyeon

“i’m home!”

haknyeon frowned when there was no response. he navigated the apartment and opened the door to the bedroom. and there you were, huddled in a bunch of blankets. your nose was slightly red, your eyes puffy, and your hair was frazzled.

his eyebrows immediately furrowed as he set down his bag and rushed over to the bed. your eyes widened at the sight of him.

“oh no,” your voice sounded clogged, as you sat up in a hurry. “I’m sorry, hak i didn’t hear you get home-”

he brought one finger up to his lips, “shh.” he gently put his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back down. he brought up one of the blankets and tucked you in. “it’s okay. just wait here.”

and then he quietly rushed out of the room. you stayed in bed, exhausted, sniffling, and with a pounding headache. even through your blocked ears, you could hear the sound of haknyeon in the kitchen, opening cabinets and dropping items. 

then, he finally entered the room, a bottle of medicine and a spoon in hand. he padded over to you, poured the right amount, and handed it to you. you always hated the taste of medicine. so, you just turned away the spoon, refusing to drink the disgusting concoction.

he pouted adorably as he sat on the edge of the bed. then, an idea went off in his head. 

“i’ll give you a kiss if you take it.”

your eyes brightened at that as you lurched forward, grabbing the spoon and downing it in one gulp. you gagged at the taste but the way he smiled so endearingly at you was what was worth it.

he placed the spoon on the nightstand and leaned forward. “okay, let me kiss you.”

but, in a rush of panic, you shoved a hand in his face, stopping his advancement. 

“wait, nevermind, don’t,” you said hurriedly. he looked at you questioningly. “you’ll get sick…”

“pff-” he giggled. “like i care.” and then he practically tackled you, kissing your face all over.

sunwoo

you were doomed. you and your boyfriend had planned the most perfect date today. eating at a reserved restaurant and then taking a walk along the river… 

you really wanted to go but with the fever you had caught and the exhaustion that weighed you down, you knew that it would only ruin the occasion. so you groggily reached over for your phone and pressed on his contact. 

he picked up immediately.

“sunwoo…”

“what happened, my love?” you could hear the shuffling of his bedsheets. it was early in the morning anyways. you wanted to sleep more but your throat was killing the ability to go back to rest.

“i’m going to have to cancel.” you replied, guilt dripping from your voice. 

he hummed, sleepily, “why? are you okay?”

it was silent. you didn’t give him a response. you didn’t want to worry him any further and bother him. knowing how caring he is, you knew that he would definitely rush over to you. it was just too early in the morning.

and rush over to you, he did.

even though you didn’t speak, he could recall how scratchy your voice sounded and your clogged breathing.

“hold on, i’m coming over.” he ordered.

you widened your eyes, “wait what-”

your apartments weren’t far from each other. in fact, it was only a few minute’s walk away. so after a short while, almost falling asleep, you heard the door open. not bothering to move, you waited for sunwoo to burst into your room.

his lips pulled into a worried pout. he was dressed in a cozy hoodie. he looked so soft. you just wanted to… hug him. 

he walked over to where you were lying and set a hand on your forehead to check your temperature. you were still warm. 

“hi, beautiful,” he said quietly, stroking your hair. you blushed slightly at his words, especially because you were so convinced you looked horrible as of right now. “do you need anything? oh wait- let me go out and get medicine…”

you rushed to grab his wrist, preventing him from standing up. 

“no.”

he let out a confused hum and sat back down on the bed. 

“i want to… to cuddle.”

he laughed and pinched your cheek. he opened the blanket and climbed in almost immediately. he brought you closer by the waist, wrapping his arms around your body. his chest provided the perfect amount of warmth, since you were feeling chilly. 

“as you wish.”

eric

the sound of the apartment door shoving open made your heart jump. there eric was, standing at the doorway, a bag in hand.

“guess what!” he was yelling so, so loudly. your headache pounded more. “i just found a new game we can play together- what-” he paused abruptly. it was then that he noticed your state. you were laid out on the couch with multiple used tissues on the table.

you looked dead, really. and that made his happy face turn into one of worry. he put down the bag and ran over to you. he cupped your face in his hands.

“oh no… are you feeling okay?” his tone has quietened down.

you sniffed, eyes watering. you always loved when eric showed his more gentle side. it always made your heart melt. “no.”

“my baby,” he cooed, smiling at how cute you looked. “sorry for being so loud.” he giggled, looking at you apologetically.

“no, no,” you shook you head quickly. “its okay, i missed you, eric.”

“it hasn’t been that long.”

“it has for me,” you replied, grumpily. you reached your hands out to signal for him come closer.

instead of coming closer, he simply jumped into the couch with you and climbed under the blanket. he snuggled closer to you, since the space was so limited. then, he laid an arm over your waist, hugging you even more.

“did you take medicine?”

you nodded, your eyes closing from exhaustion.

“okay,” he stroked your hair slowly. “let’s go to sleep then.” 

he placed a kiss on your lips. then on each of your cheeks, then your forehead, and lastly, your nose. you giggle at his actions. 

“you’ll get sick,” you whispered.

he laughed in response, cuddling furthermore. 

“anything for you, my love.”

(goodbye he’s so cheesy i love him)

[weird-is-life]

Why haven't you called earlier?

Pairing: Steve harrington x fem!reader

Sumarry: Steve has a headache and calls you to come over to cuddle

Warnings: like one swear word, needy Steve, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of painkillers

Words: 0.8k Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes

Steve felt like he was dying. He wasn't really dying, but the headache he had, felt like the literal death. So in his full of pain state, he called the only person that could help him. You.

It took him a lot of effort to walk to the phone, he had his eyes squinted, so he kept stumbling in the furniture on the way, aswell.

"Hello?" you asked, when you answered the call.

"Hi baby, it's me..." Steve breathed out.

"Oh, hi Stevie, is everything okay? We still on for the date?"

"I'm sorry, i won't make it today. My head is killing me so much, i can barely keep my eyes open. I'm sorry" he responded sluggishly.

"Your head?" you asked in concern.

"Umh" he hummed in agreement, he was too tired to speak.

"It's okay, i understand, we don't have to go out tonight. But still, i could come to yours, do you want me to come over?" you questioned. You wanted to take care of Steve. Sometimes he would overwork himself, forgetting to take a break and that often resulted in the headaches.

"Please" he breathlessly replied, he was desperate to have you with him.

"Okay, i'll be there soon."

You found the house in almost complete silence. The only sounds you heard were the soft snores coming from Steve's room.

His room was dark, curtains shut close. Steve was laying on his side, on the bed, cheek squished on the pillow. He wasn't asleep though, because as soon as you walked in the room, his eyes opened.

"Hey, pretty girl" he groggily said, rubbing his temples.

"How are you feeling?" you sat down next to him and gently brushed the hair away from his eyes.

"Like shit" he chuckled. His head was pounding badly, it felt like somebody hit him with a hammer.

"Why haven't you called earlier?" you suspected, that he's probably felt like shit since the morning.

"I thought, it'd go away and we could go on the dinner" he admited.

"Just call me next time, yeah?" you smiled at him," Did you take any painkillers, love?"

"Nope, i ran out. "

"Steve! You should have called me earlier. If i knew you were suffering this bad, i'd have come right away" you lightly smacked his arm and scoffed in disbelieve.

"Sorry?" he laughed at your frown.

"I have a few in my bag, let me just grab you some water" you wanted to go to the kitchen, but Steve didn't want to let you go.

"Steve, you have to let go off my hand, so I can actually get you the water" you chuckled.

"No, i don't want water. I just need cuddles from you and i'll be fine " he pouted and tried to pull you to his chest.

"You need to take some medicine and then you'll be fine. Just let me go get it, i'll be right back, i promise" you tried to convince him.

"I will die" he whinned and you couldn't help but to laugh at his neediness.

"You will die, if i don't cuddle you right away?" he was being ridiculous.

"Yes" he stated.

"Oh c'mon, you can wait for 1 minute" you swiftly managed to wriggle out of his hand and ran to the kitchen. You knew, if you hadn't done that, then Steve would have insisted on the cuddling and it definitely wouldn't help his headache.

"You're mean" he complained as you walked back into the room with a glass of water.

"I'm sorry, babe. But here" you handed him the pill and the glass "take this and you can finally get the cuddles you want."

He didn't protest anymore. He quickly gulped the water down along with the painkiller and then made grabby hands at you.

"You're so cute" you playfully pinched his cheek, teasing him for being so impatient.

"You promised me cuddles, sweetheart" he scowled at you, you laughed at him instead of giving him what he wanted.

"Ugh fine, fine. Come here" you finally gave up. The puppy eyes he gave you, convinced you.

You layed down next to him and he instantly put his head on your chest, wrapping his big hands around your torso. He sighed in content, when you started playing with his hair.

"Comfortable? " you raised your eyebrows at him, humor written all over your face.

"Very" he murmured into your tummy, which made you squirm under him, because it tickled you.

"I'm glad" you said with affection and caressed his cheek.

"Thank you for coming here, sweetheart " he tiredly spoke against your skin again. Your other hand, which wasn't in his hair, was running circles on his back and that was lulling him to sleep

"Of course. Now try to get some sleep, yeah?" you said and the only responce you got, was silence. He was already fast asleep.

...

...

...

Hey guys, thank you for reading. Let me know what you think. Feedback is always hugely appreciated. If anybody is interested in being my beta reader for Stranger things fics, dm me please.

Also im in need of inspiration, so feel free to send me any requests.

Have a great day and stay safe everybody. Peace out ☀️

[arctrooper69]

Only You

You try desperately to talk some sense into imperial!Crosshair

A/N: I hope my tag list works this time Tumblr keeps eating them. So I apologize if I haven't tagged you and you wanted to be tagged. I am going to only do one taglist because it's easier for me to keep track of. Whumptober 2022. Today's prompt is Nowhere to Run (Confrontation).

Warnings: Blaster injuries. Emotional pain. Mentions of injury, pain, and blood.

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Rain plastered your hair to your forehead and chilled you to the bone. Your sodden uniform hung limply as you stood on the landing pad facing the stoic sniper in black. Neither of you moved.

"I did this for you!" you finally croaked, trying and failing to hold back the tears, "I came back for you!"

Crosshair was infuriatingly silent as he stared back with seemingly uncaring eyes.

"I joined the Empire for you!" Your voice shook with both anger and grief.

"I didn't ask you to!" he snarled back, suddenly breaking his stoic facade. He spun on his heel, abruptly ending the conversation on his terms.

"Don't you dare do this! Don't you dare leave me. Not again!"

He paused and for a fleeting second you thought he'd changed his mind - that you did actually mean something to him. But that hope was unrealistic. You knew that now and it broke your heart.

"In two hours the airspace will be shut down. No one comes in, no one leaves. I suggest you get on a shuttle before then." he said evenly.

"Crosshair, I don't have anywhere else to go." He didn't respond, still standing with his back towards you. "I can't go back to your brothers. You know I can't." It had been six months since you'd left the Marauder. Six months since you followed Crosshair into Imperial service. They weren't coming back for you and there was no way your pride would allow you to come crawling back to them. There was no way you could go back - not without consequences.

***

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Hunter stood in front of the hatchway, blocking your exit. He wasn't yelling, but he was angry. You looked away, unwilling to face the disappointment in his eyes.

"I'm going to get Crosshair back by myself since obviously none of you care enough," your voice shook despite the effort to keep it strong. You paused, "and that's pretty sad considering he's your brother."

Hunter said nothing but you could see him tense. You looked him in the eye as if to challenge him and he stared back just as hard.

"That's not fair and you know it, y/n. Crosshair meant - Crosshair means alot to all of us. I made a decision to keep us all safe." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Then turning on your heel, you sharply walked away from him.

"Then you made the wrong one."

"Y/n!" Hunter called after you. You paused and spun back around. Hunter's face had softened, "I'm sorry. I know he meant a lot to you."

"You don't know shit!" You were yelling now, "I will do whatever it takes to bring him home!" Hunter's gaze darkened again, grabbing your shoulder. The grip was strong but his hand shook ever so slightly.

"Y/n, I am not going to let you kill yourself over a stupid crush!" He raised his voice to match yours. You froze, then ripped your shoulder from his grasp and stalked back to your bunk, throwing the privacy curtain around it.

Hunter's stomach dropped as he watched you go. He shouldn't have said what he said. It was said in a fit of anger and he really hadn't meant it. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. Echo peeked around the corner from the cockpit. He'd heard the whole thing. They all did; it was a small ship.

"I think -" he was cut off as Hunter raised a hand and shook his head.

"I know. I'll go talk to her."

Echo shook his head, placing a hand on the sargent's shoulder.

"Give her some time to cool off," he paused hesitantly, "and you could use some time too. Go get some rest. Tech and I will share watch. We'll talk to her in the morning."

Hunter knew he was right of course but that didn't help how annoyed and guilty he felt. He sighed, "You're probably right."

The next morning you were gone. Tech and Echo had passed out quickly with the help of a light sedative you'd put in their caf. No one saw you leave but they all knew where you had gone.

***

Another excruciating moment of silence from Crosshair. It seemed to last an eternity.

"You're a smart girl, you'll figure it out." He adjusted the rifle on his back and swiftly began walking back inside the compound. "You don't belong here."

"I do belong here, Cross! I belong with you!" you sobbed. If he heard you he didn't acknowledge it.

"I love you!" You said softly. The wind must have carried your voice further than you thought because Crosshair paused,

"No you don't."

He walked into the compound.

***

You didn't hear the rifle go off, nor did you feel the heat as the blast burned through your chest. You didn't feel the ground as it violently rose to meet your battered body. You didn't see Crosshair freeze, turning around just in time to see you hit the ground - just in time to see the Marauder land and his brothers run out. At least you were safe. He'd take care of the sniper who'd shot you, damn the consequences. No one was allowed to take you out but him.

"CROSSHAIR!" a gutteral scream of your own pain and heartbreak reverberated through your ears as you were lifted off the ground like you weighed nothing. You tried to fight but found that movement only brought excruciating pain. You struggled anyway, screaming through the pain and your rage at being dragged away from the man you once loved. The man you still loved.

"It'll be okay, ad'ika. It'll be okay. I've got ya." The adrenaline wore out quickly, sapping away your energy, leaving only the overwhelming pain.

"Crosshair," you mumbled and then coughed, feeling something wet dribble down your lips. The arms carrying you pulled you closer and quickened his pace.

"Nah," he tried to joke, "it's Wrecker!" You didn't respond. "Hey. Hey!" Wrecker's voice jolted you awake again. "Keep yer eyes open. Keep those sweet eyes open for me, ad'ika." You could hear the others running over. Flitting in and out of consciousness, you could only catch their voices in bits and pieces.

"...no time..."

"...go..."

"... Crosshair..."

More blaster fire.

Then suddenly you were in the Marauder.

"Get her on the table, Wrecker. Echo get us out of here!"

Tech.

In the next moment of lucidity you were laying on something hard, the cold metal biting into your skin.

"Help me get her armor off. Now, Hunter!" Tech sounded firm. Urgent. Afraid. Tech sounded terrified. Strong hands expertly unclipped and carefully removed the armor and you screamed. A large hand brushed hair out of your sweaty face.

"Everybody back up! Give me room to work!"

More pain - sharp and excruciating, dragging the air from your lungs in an icy gasp.

Everyone was yelling.

Everyone was so angry.

At me, you thought. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes.

"Where...where's Cross?" you mumbled. Tech was trying to elicit a response from you but you didn't care. "Need him..."

***

You groaned as you came to. You were laying on something soft. A bunk.

It smelled faintly of gun cleaner. Acrid, but oddly comforting. Crosshair's bunk.

Crosshair.

You immediately went back to your last meeting with him.

"I love you!"

"No you don't."

That hurt. Everything hurt. You sniffed as tears pooled in your eyes and slid down the sides of your face. You didn't know if they were a result of physical pain or emotional pain. Probably both. Light footsteps tread carefully in your direction and you shut your eyes, pretending to still be asleep.

"I know you're awake, Kitten." a gruff voice quietly spoke. Your eyes flew open.

"Cross!? I...how!?"

"Hmm," he chuckled darkly and sat on the edge of your bed, his hand resting on your leg. "Doesn't matter. I'm here now."

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