#you'd think I'd cry less

[rainydays12]

listening to 'Butchered Tongue' by Hozier while reading Babel, crying uncontrollably

[angelsdean]

ruthlessly deleting old 2021/2022 posts (not by me) from my dean studies tag like *click* un-incorporating that from my beliefs system! also the way SO many posts have me like ok uh-huh good aaand then say one completely wrong thing that loses me. it's so many posts.

[acourtofquestions]

Is it just me or is “The Blue” by Gracie Abrams SO Elriel coded?😭🥹

[thethingything]

we are finally off the phone! I'd misjudged the time in the last post but in total it as 2 hours and 5 minutes. I do not know what half that conversation even was but holy shit so much of it was her basically making herself out to be so generous and caring and talking about how worried she is about our mum and how terrible it is that other family members don't help her with anything.

meanwhile she calls our mum and asks her to do all this stuff for her and talks to her like shit and guilt trips her into doing stuff and I know about so much incredibly fucked up stuff she did when our mum was a kid but she doesn't know that we know she's done all this.

also she normally keeps our mum on the phone for this long but doesn't keep us on the phone for very long and it's really weird suddenly being treated like our mum, but she called us because our mum wasn't picking up the phone (she's at work and can't do that) and it's reminding me of the thing where when we had covid in 2021 and our mum couldn't answer the phone, everyone started calling us and dumping every responsibility they'd normally dump on our mum on us instead and basically treating us how they'd normally treat her.

like oh the usual family scapegoat isn't available? time to pester her eldest "daughter" until they have a breakdown and almost end up blocking everyone and refusing to talk to the rest of the family

[morose-melodies]

when you hit capitano, he let you.

you were angry, you were frustrated and he understood that very well.

your family was gone, your friends were gone and all of this carnage was caused by his sword.

when you hit him again, trying to shove him, he removed his helmet for you - hit him wherever you pleased, and he'd allow it.

he didn't feel sorry for your family, nor did he feel sorry for your friends - he didn't even feel sorry for taking you from your home. it was something he deemed a necessary evil.

you weren't happy where you were; maybe now that everyone you once knew was gone, you were trying to convince yourself that you cared for them, that you were closer to them than you truly were.

you scratched at him, leaving a long stinging mark on his cheek. his eyes had hearts in them as he looked down at you - you were perfect, you deserved nothing less than the best.

you grabbed a pillow from his bed and started beating him with it.

"you're so- ugh, you make me sick!"

you were getting frustrated with him. the captain felt for you, he just wanted you to be happy, "hit me harder if you must, stab me if it pleases you, rip out my hair, spit in my face for all I care."

"sh-shut up... what's wrong with you...?"

you sighed, your arms were sore and you were tired - you'd been crying and yelling at him for hours it seemed.

the captain raised a hand and reached for your face, wiping away a stray tear rolling down your cheek, "I love you... too much-"

you smacked his hand away, glaring at him.

he lowered his hand. "(y/n), I'd like for you to understand why-"

"stop talking! you're making everything worse. just shut up!" you cried over, covering your eyes and cried into your hands.

he wanted to hug you, comfort you, and ease the sadness you felt but he was well aware that that would make things worse.

so, he watched instead.

it was as if he was admiring you even in your weakest moment - he couldn't see you in a negative light, ever. he loved you, that last thing he wanted was for you to think otherwise.

but it seemed you already did.

he'd have to make it up to you, he reasoned.

[ddejavvu]

Could you do a criminal minds x reader where reader is viewed as super sweet and dresses brighter and stuff like Penelope but one day they have to come in like super late/by surprise so everyone is in their normal clothes and the bau sees that reader has a big ass, super cool tattoo? And they’re all surprised and stuff

You're looking less-than professional in your backless halter top when you take your seat at the round table, but no one bats an eye until you stand from the chair to leave. Hotch's call of 'Wheels up in 20' means that the room clears as everyone hunts for their gobags, and the second you turn your back to your coworkers a litany of reactions fill the space.

Of course, the most dramatic is from Garcia, but you hear enough to count all of your coworkers, except one. Hotch's brows are raised when you turn back to see them, though - apparently he's not above being startled.

"Woah, hot stuff," Prentiss calls, a grin spreading over her face, "You've got some nice ink back there!"

"I didn't know you had tattoos," JJ muses, staring at you with curious amusement like she's recalculating your image in her mind, "That's really intricate. I like it."

"Oh, it's-" You reach a hand up to stroke awkwardly over the inked skin, "I kind of forgot you'd never seen it before."

"Turn around again!" Garcia gushes, "I wanna look at it."

You spin on command, and Hotch and Rossi are kind enough not to gawp with the others, passing you on their way to the door.

"You've got guts, kid," Rossi grimaces, "I've been in a lot of pain before, but I don't know if I'd willingly sit there for all of that."

"I wouldn't," Hotch shakes his head with a good-natured smile, "Haley and I got small, matching ones in college, and I had a hard time with that one."

"Is that based off of Norse mythology?" Spencer pokes his head around your shoulder to stare bright-eyed at you, "Some of the symbols remind me of-"

"It's just a sick-ass tattoo, Reid." Morgan shoves at his shoulder. peering avidly at the art, "Don't ruin this for everyone."

Reid takes the shove like a champion, smiling kindly, albeit awkwardly at you as he moves for the door himself, "I like it."

"Thanks, Reid," You call, flinching slightly as a hand traces one of the symbols on your back.

"Ooh! Sorry, pumpkin," Garcia calls, the hand drawn away in a flash, "I got too grabby. I just think it's really cool," she takes your hand, leading you towards the door while the others follow to continue staring at your tattoo, "I'd show you my own body art, but it's not really in a spot that I can display in the workplace."

"Well this I've gotta see," Morgan teases, "Let's all huddle in the bathroom on the jet, babygirl, and see what you're hiding."

"It is not for your eyes, Derek Morgan," She huffs, though she's grinning at his attempt. The look in her eyes suggests that the tattoo is not for his eyes because it's something to do with him, and you're eager to giggle over whatever part of her body she's tatted 'babygirl' over later.

For now, though, you rifle through your gobag and shrug on a cardigan, effectively covering your back and its ink.

"It is a crying shame to cover up that artwork," Prentiss laments, "I bet it looks awesome peeking over tank tops."

"You'll see it again at the hotel," You laugh, "I have plans to use the jacuzzi before we leave."

"A jacuzzi sounds fantastic," JJ sighs, "But let's all of us agree that Morgan isn't invited - I wanna see Garcia's tattoo."

[nerdomancer]

I'm rereading Order of the Stick and Eric Greenhilt's first (named) appearance ONCE AGAIN has made me cry

[thebestsetter]

"If I was a color, I think I'd be yellow"

"Why?"

"Non-important. I just feel it"

He has never seen yellow the same way again. It was everywhere. He looked for it everywhere. And everytime, without fail, he remembered you. A pretty sunflower. Your blinding smile. A little minion figure he saw on the mall. You crying after watching the latest "Despicable Me" movie (and him laughing at your cute stupid crying face). A silly Winnie the Pooh keychain on a crying child's backpack. You talking to the said sad kid you both saw on the street and trying to cheer them up, playing with them and making sure they were smiling, their worries melting away in the speed of light (you'd make such a great mother, he thinks, making his face grow bright red right after). The sun in all of it's glory. You. You. You. You.

You were like a plague infecting his brain and soul. He couldn't focus on anything anymore because you were always running through his head, the sound of your laugh playing inside his mind 24/7 and driving him half insane. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask you why you said to him you were yellow. How did you know? What made you so sure of it? Why you had put him under this spell in which everytime he catches just the smallest and quickest glimpse of yellow, the image of you came flooding his mind and senses? Did you even think about him the same amount of times he thought about you? He didn't know. He couldn't know unless he asked you. And it was not fair. Not fair at all.

"Remember that day you told me you were yellow?"

"Yeah" you said, stopping mid-sip of your milkshake and looking at him with your beautiful a confused face "Yeah, I do. Why?"

"You never gave me an answer to the question I asked you that day" he ignored how the first sentence you said made his heart fluster and his stomach go silly.

"Which question?" How humilliating. He's gonna have to swallow his pride and repeat it. Utterly ridiculous.

"Why?" He couldn't care less about how hurt his ego was right now "Actually, how. How did you know you're yellow?"

"Easy. It's 'cause yellow and purple are opposites, so they look good when put together"

"What?"

"Yellow and purple are on opposite sides of the color wheel, silly! So they're complementary colors and go well together"

"I know that. But what does purple have to do with you being yellow?"

"You remind me of purple"

And suddenly, he realized yellow has never been alone. Next to the beautiful sunflower, there's a bellflower, that looks gloom when compared to the yellow plant, but basks in the joy it seems to bring nonetheless. Just like you are the one to bring joy to his life. Beside the minion figure, there's a figure of those bad purple minions, and while one is considered pretty, funny and nice, the other one is scary, angry and people tend to avoid them. It reminds him of you two: extroverted and kind you and introverted and rude him. Perfect opposites. Perfect together. He hadn't noticed before, but the child's backpack was purple, and this memory was followed by the the sound of the laughs you and the little fella shared. Kids should always be happy, smiling, harmless and having fun. Comfortable. Safe. In that way, you make him feel like a little kid. Your warm embrace, so protective and oh so motherly. He feels relaxed around you. Overjoyed. And even though he doesn't smile a lot, you always seem to make him want to crack a real, big grin. It must be a superpower of yours. Lastly, the sun, always followed by the moon. Even though they don't "meet" often, when they do, they create one of the prettiest phenomena known to humanity: an eclipse. They're always apart, but when they're together, it's so beautiful that the whole world stops to see.

"That's cringy. And kinda stupid."

"No it's not! We're a perfect duo! Just admit it!!"

"'Course we are"

"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you!!"

"I'm not saying it again."

So don't act surprised when your wedding is full of beautiful sunflowers and bellflowers. You should see it coming. They look good together right? Just like you two.

RIN ITOSHI, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro, MICHAEL KAISER, Barou Shohei, SAE ITOSHI, TODOROKI SHOTO, SHINSOU HITOSHI, BAKUGOU KATSUKI, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, TSUKISHIMA KEI (his name's kanji meaning moon is just so-- perfect fot this fic) , Osamu Miya, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + any character you think fits this!!

Curiosity!!!: Bellflowers mean "everlasting love and commitment" in flower language, while sunflowers mean steadfast love!!

Masterlist

Wrote this in the middle of my portuguese class. I hate it. I'm in love with him

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hurt comfort requests you sayyy?

What about post-prison spencer comforting sunshine reader when she got hurt during a case and she’s like physically hurt but trying to still be sunshiney to keep the team from worrying but spencer was like you don’t have to keep doing that, it’s okay to acknowledge your pain

"I don't want anything with opium in it." you say to the nurse who nods, leaving the room in search of your doctor.

Spencer is sat beside you on the plastic chair, watching you intently as he has been since you'd been admitted.

You hadn't cried once, and Spencer knows a little about being banged up and you should've cried at least twice. You've got bruising on your ribs, a couple broken as well as a broken nose- you really should've cried.

Instead, you let the nurses set your nose, bandage your side and read you your prescription like it was nothing.

"I can't wait to leave, I've been missing my ice cream." you sigh longingly as you lean back into the bed, turning to face Spencer.

His fair skin is a little splotchy, two spots from where he'd been fighting with the unsub, and one long red mark on his hand where you had been holding him as they reset your nose.

He's been a little checked out seeing you in the hospital bed. It's hard watching someone you love struggle to let themselves feel the less than desirable emotions.

"Do you think Emily will be upset if I come to work in the morning? I don't think I'll need more than a couple hours, but maybe the full day would be nice."

Spencer's eyes snap to yours at that. "You're not going to be able to be in the field for at least seven weeks."

Your eyes widen, "I'm fine. It's just a couple broken ribs, I can go to the office and fly on the jet no problem."

Spencer rolls his eyes, not at all liking that you're acting so cavalier about your injuries. "Try sitting up then, since it's just a couple ribs."

He doesn't mean for heat to seep into his words, and it's evident you weren't expecting it when he watches your eyebrows jump. Still determined, you try sitting up, wincing the whole time.

"Stop," you don't even lift yourself more than two inches off the bed before his hand is pushing your shoulder gently. Laying you out. "You don't have to pretend that everything is okay. You're injured, you can cry or scream or emote in something other than cheeriness."

You frown, "It's kind of my default." you murmur, Spencer doesn't believe you. He knows a lot about psychology and he knows a lot about you, he knows it's not your default.

"A learned one?" Your eyebrows jump again. He's still just as awkward and to the point as he's always been. Spencer takes a steadying breath, "I won't judge you for being upset or sad or anything else. You're allowed to and I don't want you suppressing it."

Your body sags with his permission. It's not that you needed his permission, and more that you needed the reassurance that it was okay. That you could just be.

"All emotions are good, we're supposed to feel all of them." it's this that does you in. Your throat scratches from the tears building through your chest and neck.

You sigh, shutting your eyes as you feel the sting of tears behind them. "I'm in a lot of pain, Spencer." your voice cracks and he's on the edge of your bed immediately, kissing your forehead as the tears fall. "It also kinda hurts to cry with a broken nose."

He chuckles at that, rubbing your arm as your tears begin to slow.

"I'll take care of you. The doctor is gonna come in and tell you that you can take Ibuprofen and you're gonna be here a couple more hours, but then we can go to my place and I'll have you in tip top shape in no time."

You open your eyes and look up at him. "You'd stay with me the full seven weeks?"

Your eyes shine with more tears under the harsh florescent light of the hospital, "I'd stay with you even longer than that, pretty girl." You know in your bones he means every word.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Idk who i want this ask for other than Firefly, but an S/O who’s such a light weight that basically one sip of alcohol gets them spouting about how much they love their girlfriend.

(H:SR/Genshin Impact) Firefly, Arlecchino, Rosaria, Chiori, Xinyan, Clorinde and Dehya with a drunk S/O being overly affectionate

I don't even need to be drunk to do that for Firefly

Firefly lets out a sound that could be interpreted as a squeak, laugh, or cry of embarrassment. The answer was probably a mixture of all three.

Firefly wasn't that easily affected by alcohol due to her genetic engineering, but she wanted to tag along with S/O just to spend time. She swore they just tasted the drink before they started loudly exclaiming how adorable she was.

Sure enough, one glance over to their glass and it was still completely full, making her pout.

(Firefly) "S-S/O! Please lower your voice! It's a little embarrassing hearing all that out loud-"

(S/O) "But how else is everyone going to know what a cutie you are? That face right now is sooooo pretty...Wait, you're right, it only belongs to ME!-"

Firefly lets out a quiet sigh. At least she couldn't argue that S/O didn't love her so much.

(S/O) "Even when you wear your armor, you're my Firefly, not SA-"

Firefly's hand instantly moves to S/O's mouth, covering it before they could continue, eyes rapidly darting left and right.

(Firefly) "Okay, we're going home!"

The bar watches as this tiny woman manages to lift S/O over her shoulders with zero issue out the door.

Arlecchino watches with silent amusement as she hears what's so great about herself.

Would Arlecchino use any of the terms S/O was shouting out into the room to describe herself? Archons, no.

But...it was endearing to hear S/O think so highly of her.

Tracing the edge of her glass with one finger, Arlecchino hums as she sips her wine.

(Arlecchino) "Would you tell anyone else of how you felt about your 'lovely' girlfriend?"

(S/O) hic! "To the world, I'll shout about her on the top of the city!"

Slowly, her eyes trailed down to their glass. They haven't even got it to halfway.

(Arlecchino) "How entertaining..."

(S/O) "H-hey...! Are you making fun of my affection for my Arle!? DO YOU WANNA FIGHT?!"

With an eyebrow raised, she turns back to S/O.

(Arlecchino) "You are aware of who you're speaking to, correct?"

(S/O) "Some punk who's making fun of my girlfriend! I don't care that you look like her, I won't let you insult her!"

(Arlecchino) "...Maybe we should pour you a less alcoholic beverage next time."

(Rosaria) "Oh good gods no."

Sure Dandelion Wine was strong, but it couldn't be strong enough to knock S/O flat on their ass like this, right?

(S/O) "Your eyes are so pretty too...the way they look like you want to-"

(Rosaria) "Okay, I get it, thank you. Don't finish that."

As annoying as their volume was, especially considering people were giving her and S/O looks, this was pretty damn funny.

And also sweet, she had no idea they had this much love stored for her.

Part of her feels bad, she hadn't even done that much to deserve such praise.

Rosaria just chuckles and reaches out a hand to rustle their hair, which they hum at the cute gesture.

(S/O) "See?! Just like that, you're such a darling!"

(Rosaria) "Not the word I'd use, but sure."

(S/O) "I can use a hundred different words to-"

(Rosaria) "Do not."

(Chiori) "Ew."

Chiori would not use any of these terms to describe herself, much less anyone else.

To have S/O use pet names like "sweetie-pie" or "honey-bunches" was having her internally cringe to the point she might die.

(S/O) "Hey, don't you say ew about my girlfriend!" hic! "I-I'LL KICK YOUR ASS!"

Now that got Chiori to laugh, one hand rushing to her mouth as she fails to contain her own volume.

(Chiori) "You'd kick your girlfriend's ass, S/O?"

(S/O) "Huh...? NO! I LOVE HER, I WOULD NEVER LAY A HAND ON HER!"

(Chiori) "Then check who you're talking to."

(S/O) "No, this is some mindgame! She'd just tell me that it was her and not play around! She's too honest!"

Well, at least they were right about that part.

Next time she should pour them a shot glass of sake, if one sip from not even a full cup was enough to get them riled up like this, Chiori wouldn't have wasted so much.

(Xinyan) "K-Keep your voice down, yer gettin' rowdier than my guitar!"

(S/O) "Yeah, and you're SOOOO hot with the guitar too! You shreds it and...and...shreds it!-"

(Xinyan) "For the love of...!-"

Xinyan gets extremely flustered with S/O screaming about how lovely of a woman she is.

Which would be great, if half the Harbor couldn't hear them at this very moment.

She wants to hide away to avoid all the stares, but at the same time Xinyan wants to give S/O the best kiss she can.

She was always so insecure about herself, but to hear S/O's unfiltered love for her was something she could never have prepared for.

...Probably because they were shouting it, but regardless, it was enough to get her to tear up from love and embarrassment!

(Xinyan) "S-Sshhh! I'm beggin' ya, S/O! Tell me how much ya love me when ya ain't so loud!"

(S/O) "You want me to whisper my love for you?"

(Xinyan) "Yea-"

Xinyan then thought about that sentence for a few seconds.

(Xinyan) "...N-NO!"

She honestly forgets about the drinks in their hands, being too preoccupied with S/O.

Clorinde flushes red, and not because of the alcohol.

Thank Archons they drank at home and away from the media vultures, because the things they were doing was mortifying.

To both her, and themselves.

(Clorinde) "...D-Dear, that's enough drinking."

They were nuzzled into her chest, noises of approval coming out as they cuddled closer.

She had to stop their hand reaching for the drink, or more accurately, stop it from spilling over.

(S/O) "You're really strong, you know that?"

Clorinde lets out a quiet chuckle, rubbing their hair.

(Clorinde) "I have been told on occasion that my skills are-"

(S/O) "And you're so pretty...! And smell nice...!"

(Clorinde) "...That, less so."

(S/O) "Your chest is super big too...and pretty...!"

(Clorinde) "...I wish I have heard that one less."

Alright, romantic mood over. She moves them off her, though their whine almost made her rescind her actions.

But they needed to sleep. Or at least get ready for the worst hangover from a single sip.

Dehya is laughing in both disbelief and from second-hand embarassment.

As shy as she was getting from the heartfelt compliments, it was more the fact S/O was shouting so loud the other mercs could hear them and began laughing that made her feel antsy.

They would never never live this down, especially because they drank a couple sips from the wine they bought.

But damn if this wasn't funny/cute.

(Dehya) "Hm...what else do you love about me S/O? I'm open to hear them.~" And so is the rest of the camp, apparently.

(S/O) "You're so tough and kickass and..." hic "And super cute!"

(Dehya) "Cute? Not hot?"

(S/O) "Nah! The way you're so happy applying...the...the makeup thingy, its really cute!"

Now she was the one getting silent, and all red in the face.

(Dehya) "I-Is that right? Dunno if I should be happy or angry about that."

People complimented her physical attributes, perhaps a little too much, but this was the first time it was flat out ignored.

Especially since this was S/O speaking from the heart.

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Thanks for the ride (Long Drabble) Author's Notes: Personally this one is the worst one of the four. Also I didn't expect this to be this long. Warnings: MDNI, Angst

Did Soap enjoy being a little shit? Most of the time. But when it involved hurting you, even disguised as Price’s doing, he couldn’t find any joy in it. He may have successfully ruined Price in your eyes but at what cost?

He knew that you would only take so much of this. He wasn’t stupid. You will snap one day and all of their efforts to keep you will end up being futile. But some sick part of him hoped that you liked them enough to stay. That’ll you’ll hold out as much as they have so far.

And if you hold out long enough, maybe, just maybe, Soap can outlast the others. It’s only a matter of time before the others get over their little crush. Right?

But until then, he’ll be waiting. He’ll keep his distance but he’ll come as soon as you start calling.

Like now, as his phone lights up with your name. It’s Friday morning and he’s currently spotting Gaz on the bench press when his phone starts to ring. His heart jumps when he sees your name. He swipes his phone and answers it.

“Sergeant MacTavish,” he says. He cringes at his words.

“Sergeant,” you start. He could cry. He’s not just your sergeant, he’s Johnny, your Johnny-boy. “I am so sorry to bother you so early but I didn’t know who else to call.” He could tell from the tone of your voice that you were in trouble. He turns around to avoid Kyle from overhearing.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm okay, but... I... I'm on my way to base, but my car just broke down. I'd walk but I won't make it on time to today's meeting if I do. Is there anyway you can pick me up? I'll pay for gas and your time. Again, I am so sorry for bother--"

"It's not a bother. I'll be there in 10." He hangs up the phone before you can say anything else. Soap was truly God's favorite. Despite everything, you still called him. And like always, he'll answer.

"Everything good there, buddy?" pipes up Gaz.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry. Uh... just one of the techs," Soap explains. He grabs his bag and tells Gaz he has to go... "bomb emergency." He leaves and rushes to his room. He zips through his room, trying to change into something less sweaty. He wasn't sure why, but his heart was racing.

Was he nervous?

Of course he was nervous.

This would be the first time in over a month that you called him for something that didn't involve a mission. There would be no Ghost, no Price, no Gaz to get in his way. He sprays some perfume that you had gotten him for his birthday, grabs his keys, and runs out of his room.

It's just a straight shot - straight down the hall and to the parking lot. Should be easy?

Wrong.

Waiting for him at the door was his fellow sergeant, Kyle Gaz Garrick.

"Where you going there, buddy? Isn't techs on the other side of the base?" He stands up straight, staring the Scotsman down.

Soap does the same. One way or another, he was going to give you that ride. "It is, but it'll be faster if I drive there. So if you can move, you'd make my day." He tries to side-step Gaz, but Gaz stay still. "Move!" Soap tries to push his teammate. Kyle pushes back, pinning him up against the wall, his arm over his neck.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice? Mate, your brightness and volume were all the way up ," he scoffs. "You really think I'm going to let you be the hero here."

"Get off!" Soap roars. He shoves Kyle back and punches him in the gut, forcing the sergeant to fall to his knees. However, it does nothing to stop him as Kyle lunges at the Scotsman, forcing him on the floor. They tussle for a bit before two pairs of arms pull the sergeants off from one another.

"What the hell is going on here?" commands Price. He has Soap in his grip while Ghost grabs Gaz.

"Soap here is trying to see them without us," Gaz spits out. Soap feels Price's hold on him tighten. Soap tries to explain himself. How you had called HIM for a ride and he was just trying to be a good teammate.

Price lets out an empty laugh. "Just like how I was trying to help with lunch." Fuck. Soap knew that was going to bite him in the ass, but he didn't think so soon. Ghost lets Gaz go. Gaz walks towards Soap and snatches the keys from his hands.

Soap tries to stop him, but it's no use, Price isn't budging.

And you of course don't know that all of this is going back on base. You're stuck in your car, waiting for Soap to come pick you up. You weren't happy that you called him, but you really had no choice. The bus had already passed, you didn't have enough time to walk, and it looked like it was going to rain. Besides, Soap said it wasn't a bother.

15 minutes have passed and you were starting to get antsy. The meeting was going to start soon and Soap still hadn't come by. You decide to text him... worst case, he's driving and can't answer.

You: Hey! Sorry to bother, but are you close? Again thank you so much for the ride

You put your phone down and look out the window.

Buzz, buzz.

Johnny-boy: Something came up. Sorry.

No fucking way. You could cry right now. And not even out of disappointment, but out of anger. You don't even bother to answer. You turn off your phone and jump out of your car. At this point, it didn't even matter. You were going to be late either way. What's the point of giving them a heads up?

And to your luck, it starts to rain... hard. Could your day get any worse? Fuck, your month, really? Whatever you did, there's no way it was that bad to deserve all of this.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't hear the racing car blasting rock music behind you.

Back on base, Soap is close to just dying in his seat. The 141 are all in the conference room, waiting for your arrival. Gaz and Price are in their seats while Ghost blocks the door. He can see his phone in his Lieutenant's pocket.

Soap begs him to let him go. It's pouring out there and knowing how stubborn you could be, you're probably walking in this weather.

Price shoots him a pointed look. "You really think I'd let them walk in this rain. I already sent some rookies to pick them up." And on cue, his phone rings. "Look, it's the rookies."

Price answers the phone. But instead, of keeping his neutral face, he just frowns. "What do you mean they're not there?" Soap's blood runs cold. Price argues with the rookies for a bit until he hangs up. The room tenses. Everyone looks at Price with baited breath. They all assume the worst. But before anyone can even suggest it, the door opens.

"141! My favorite team! How are... what's with the long faces?" The men all pause. They all had forgotten that Nikolai was going to help them on this next op.

"Nik, not the time," Price grumbles out. All of the men agree. Right now, you were missing and it was all their fault.

Nik gets serious and takes a seat. He assures them that things will work out. Once you finish changing, you can all brainstorm and find a solution.

Once you finish changing?

Soap makes the connection first. He asks Nik if you were on base.

"Da. Found them on my way here." Soap could just cry out of joy. You were okay. You were alive.

His joy is cut short when you come in. You don't say anything. You take your seat at the end of the table.

You look at all of them with indifference, with apathy. "Let's get started."

Soap calls your name. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. All he knew was that he needed to talk to you.

You glare at him. "Sergeant MacTavish, we've wasted enough time today. Let's just do our job," you spit out. You reel in your anger. You were done with Soap, with this team, with everyone.

Soap sinks in his seat. He didn't think you were capable of hatred.

Word Count: 1450

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[gumycandyyy]

୨♡ Ｗｉｎｔｅｒ Ｋｉｎｇ ＨＣＳ ♡୧

I am ashamed of tumblr for not making more fanfic of this funky fruit.

We got some general HCS and then some romantic ones under the cut! (I went a little overboard with the romantic ones, hehe!)

Gender-neutral

୨♡ Ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ ♡୧

-Man's self care routine is off the charts

-I'm serious, he has like- 80 different bubble bath concoctions.

-Smells like mint

-or some kind of cold scent.

-I feel like he loves dressing up fancy, so he has a closet full of sparkly suits

-maybe even some dresses if he's feeling special.

-Doesn't actually need to wear glasses, he just likes how they look.

-While he loves his winter wonder world, I feel like he'd enjoy rainy weather more than snow.

-He got rid of all his madness and sadness, yes, but I think he'd cry at something especially cute. Happy tears, y'know?

"Why are you crying, sir? Are you okay?" "Oh, it's nothing. *sniff* Just those two rabbits that are cuddling."

-He is really bad at any percussion instrument

-like.. REALLY bad.

-His hands are too delicate for such a garish instrument as the drums!

-He loves playing duets on the piano, but rarely has anyone to play with.

-I mean, he could always concoct up an ice creature to play piano with him, but that's honestly quite dull.

-His favorite movie would probably be an old Christmas movie, like It's a Wonderful Life.

-He gets kidnapped by the Candy Queen so often, that occasionally he brings a book or something snuggly to help him wait for his ice scouts to rescue him.

-He once got so bored while kidnapped that he tried to read to some of the mutilated candy people

-That was the last time he saw his favorite book.

-Safe to say he doesn't bring his favorites anymore.

୨♡ Ｒｏｍａｎｔｉｃ ♡୧

-Will literally spoil his love interest rotten.

-You want that thing you saw earlier?

-Consider it yours

-You'd like for it to snow outside?

-A sprinkle or a blizzard?

-Literally anything, this man will go to the ends of the universe to get you what you'd like.

-Love languages are definitely gift giving and physical touch

-probably acts of service too.

-Loves dancing.

-Loves dancing.

-Whether it be a slow dance or ice-skating, he will take every opportunity to dance with you!

-He adores short people.

-Good, because he's tall as a giant.

-if you're shorter than him, he will no doubt use you as an armrest.

-He always makes remarks on how cute you are.

-Even if you're only two inches shorter than him.

-If you're taller...

-hoo boy.

-Expect him to be all over you.

-figuratively and literally.

-Will want you to carry him everywhere, sit in your lap, rest against you, whatever.

-Just let him touch you.

-He'll talk about how strong you are, how you'd be the perfect chair, etc. etc.

-He does the stupid "How's the weather up there?" jokes.

-Loves your body, no matter what it looks like.

-You're skinny?

-You're easy to carry around and dance with.

-You're chubby or fat?

-Literally will always be holding onto or resting on part of you. He loves squishy people.

-Somewhere in the middle?

-He could not care less. He loves you regardless of what you look like.

-And he makes sure to emphasize his point by complimenting you endlessly.

-He will never leave your side.

-Even if you need space, he doesn't.

-So why wouldn't you?

-Back to our regularly scheduled fluff-

-Candy Queen hates your guts.

-She thinks you're an obstacle, keeping her from the Winter King.

-No doubt tries to kill you.

-Multiple times. a day

-Her plans are always foiled, but if she gets too close to genuinely hurting you, Winter will be so upset.

"Oh, Dearest, please tell me you're okay!" "You are?" "Phew. I don't know what I'd do if you were hurt in any way."

-His petnames for you are probably

-Darling,

-Dearest,

-My love,

-There are a lot more, but those are the main ones.

-LOVES kissing you.

-Anytime, any way.

-He finds it adorable when his nose bumps your face.

-Favorite place to kiss would probably be the back of your hand.

-He is a gentleman after all.

-Overall, he just adores you.

-And he sincerely hopes you love him just as much as he does you.

Headcanon requests are open for Winter King! Don't be afraid to send an ask, and be shameless! I know I am! (No smut tho. Some spice is okay, however.)

Have some free WK art for coming this far!

reblog for a beginner writer?

[villainousauthor]

Hero continues to rock the wailing infant, trying to shush her. It's been hours, and still they haven't been able to get her to calm down. Nothing has worked, not a bottle, a diaper change, nothing.

Hero places their hand against her small forehead, checking for a fever, maybe. They feel so beyond their depth right now. Hero's barely slept the past day, and they're dead on their feet, eyes barely staying open.

"I wish you could just tell me what's wrong. This is so frustrating." Hero whines, still bouncing the crying infant.

"It's unfortunate, most babies can't talk." The familiar voice comes from behind, and Hero whirls around defensively to see Villain standing in the doorway of the nursery.

"What are you doing here?" Hero demands, clutching their child closer.

"You haven't come to fight me in months. I've sent out clear messages-"

"You mean constantly blowing up buildings and taking people hostage?" Hero interrupts, still holding their baby close to their chest.

"-but you never came. I was starting to think you died," Villain finishes eloquently. "I can see now that you've been a bit busy." They take a step closer, and Hero takes another step back, trying to keep distance.

This was bad. Hero very much intended that no one would know about their child, enemies especially. They could feel anxiety rising in their chest, clawing at their throat.

Villain eyes their movement before speaking again. "Shame, I would have sent a gift if I'd known. Who's the other parent?" Their eyes shoot back up to Hero's as they ask.

"No one. She's mine, her other parent is irrelevant." Hero says defensively. The baby continues to cry, face red.

Villain looks over the both of them, humming as they consider this. "So you're doing this alone. How long have you been up for?"

The question seems harmless, and yet Hero hesitates, still not trusting Villain. The way they ask though, seems simply curious.

"...A few hours now. I can't get her to sleep." Hero finally says quietly.

Villain steps closer again, this time slowly, as if to not worry Hero. "I can tell," They snort, but the words are soft, "You look completely exhausted."

"Jeez thanks-"

"May I try?" Villain asks, voice gentle. Hero looks at them like they've grown three heads. The very idea that Hero would hand their child over to Villain is so beyond ridiculous, that they can't believe they asked.

Vilain sees their expression and rolls their eyes. "I'm not going to do anything to harm her. I know you'd kick my ass if I even tried. I'm good with kids, and you look like you're going to fall over any minute."

They step even closer and lift a finger to the small baby, which she grabs with her chubby little hand. Villain chuckles at the sight.

Hero watches, eyes fighting to stay open. Villain is right, they do feel like they're on the verge of collapse any moment. Arms are heavy from continuously rocking the baby, legs feel like jello.

"Okay, you can hold her for a moment. But I swear to everything that if you do anything to harm her, your body will end scattered in tiny pieces across the country." Hero warns, their voice more deadly than it's ever been with Villain.

Villain simply smiles as they reach out for the baby. "I wouldn't expect anything less." They take her in their arms, holding her comfortably. Hero immediately collapses down into the nearby rocking chair.

They rock her in their arms like it's the most natural thing in the world. Hero watches on in surprise as she starts to calm down somewhat, though she's still fussy. The lack of wailing level crying is a godsend though.

"How in the world.." Hero asks, amazed at the sight.

Villain grabs a pacifier off the near by changing table, giving it to the infant. She accepts it easily and finally settles down.

"I told you I'm really good with kids. Plus babies just like me," They say as they look down at the infant in their arms with the most genuine smile Hero has ever seen, "Also have you considered that she might be teething?"

Hero raises an eyebrow before yawning suddenly. "Ah..no I haven't. I'm new to this, and I feel like I'm learning as I go along..."

"It probably doesn't help that you don't have any help either. Why don't you rest for a bit while I hold her?" Villain suggests, noticing how on the verge of falling asleep they are. "I promise I'll stay right here, and she'll be okay. You should get some sleep."

"I'm not so sure about that..." Hero replies, though their head is already starting to sag. "How'd you get so good with kids anyways?" They ask, their eyes beginning to flutter.

Villain chuckles quietly. "You don't get to unlock my tragic back story that easily." But Hero is already asleep, passed out over in the chair. Villain continues to hold the baby as they drap a small blanket over Hero.

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

things aren't the way you planned coming home with your newborn, but you have eddie there to lean on when things get hard (and an unlimited supply of 'munson-style' hugs). requested here. infatuated dad!eddie x mom!reader, 3k.

cw post partum recovery, reader is suffering from some symptoms of post partum depression

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"You're sure you can manage?" Wayne asks, his voice buzzing down the line.

Eddie peers out of the kitchen into the living room quietly. You're sitting on the sofa in a shape that can't be comfortable considering your recent stitches, the baby on your thighs where you've brought them together, your hands delicately posed on either side of his head. 

"I think so," Eddie says, answering Wayne's questions with honesty. "She's feeling a little better today." 

"It's hard, Eds. You take care of her and call me if you need help, okay? I'm proud of you. Both of you." 

It catches Eddie off guard for a moment. He's done enough crying lately, clearing his throat to say, "Thanks, Wayne. Call me tomorrow." 

"You call me, I don't wanna wake anyone if you're sleeping." 

They say their goodbyes. Eddie leans against the kitchen doorway to spy on you and the baby. Babies cry more than he ever could've imagined despite the warnings, but it's quiet, too. There are moments of peacefulness like this one breaking apart the chaos. 

You're whispering something. Eddie stands very still, wishing the dishwasher would magically silence itself. He strains to hear you. 

"I love you," you say. "Sorry I'm tired, honey. I promise I'll be better. You're so beautiful." 

Eddie bites his cheeks, wondering if his family (his family!) aim to make him cry and little else tonight. He gives himself a look in the mirror magnet on the fridge framed by a We Love Michigan border, rainbows and cute elk surrounding something less pretty. His hair is frizzy but that's nothing new, greasy at the top and dry at the bottom. He scrapes it back into a scrappy bun and wipes the oil from his face with his sleeves. He's in dire need of a shower. 

Resigned, he steps out of the kitchen, new socks slippery on old linoleum before finding stability on the crush of carpet in need of a vacuuming in the living room. You look up and bless him with a smile.

You've had a bad case of the baby blues, though the midwife assured him that was normal, and not to worry unless it continued past the first few weeks. 

Well, Eddie will worry. Any depression you experience breaks his heart, no matter the cause, and no matter how temporary it may be. Just 'cos a cut might heal doesn't mean it didn't hurt when you got it. 

"How do you feel?" he asks cautiously. 

You make a face that he knows precedes a lie. "Don't worry about me." 

He sits on the arm to look down at the baby —his baby, his son— in your hold, your face moving immediately to rest on his thigh. 

"I'm okay, teddy," you say.

"How about you?" he asks the baby, taking his hand gently. 

The baby doesn't open his eyes nor answer the question, well and truly asleep. 

"Do you think Charlie was the right name?" you ask, stroking his small face lightly. 

"If we hate it, we can just call him Wayne." 

Eddie's out of this world lucky that you'd liked the name and loved him enough to name the baby after his uncle. Charlie Wayne Munson, born six pounds and two ounces, the smallest baby they saw all week in Hawkins General. 

"He looks more like a Wayne than a Charlie," you say, rubbing your cheek into Eddie's sweatpants. 

"He's so fucking beautiful," Eddie says, getting his hand behind your shoulders. He gives your back a loving rub, up and down the whole stiff length of it. "Would you relax? Or tell me what's wrong? Please?" 

"Nothing's wrong… Look how perfect he is, I'd be a freak to act like something was wrong," you say, the exhale of your words warming his leg. 

Eddie rubs his hand up with a tad more roughness until the cinch between your shoulders has flattened. 

"You're having a biological reaction," Eddie says, leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head. "Don't feel bad about feeling bad, sweetheart. This is a physical thing, that's all it is. You're not a freak for feeling wobbly." 

You relax even more, pad of your thumb swiping Charlie's smooth cheek. 

"Want me to make you feel better?" he asks.

"How?" 

"I'm not sure yet. I was thinking we'd make a list. Starting with a hug, quickly followed by something amazing to eat before Wayne wakes up." 

"Charlie," you correct with a small laugh.

"Is there a nickname for Charlie?" Eddie asks. "What are we gonna call him? Lee?"

"We'll think of something," you promise. 

Eddie isn't worried about it. He figures there's at least five years of nickname time to get one that sticks. For now, he has a list to make and things to do, and the first is making sure you're as well as you can be. He starts with the hug, pulling what you want for dinner from you one soft kiss to your temple at a time. Chicken pot pie? Ramen noodles with a fried egg on top? Sesame chicken? Triple cheeseburgers? 

You can't decide. Eddie chooses breakfast for dinner. It won't take long —he can fry the sausage, eggs, turkey bacon and toast in one pan. 

He keeps the door open to watch you, though nothing is actively wrong. You're deflated now rather than tense, petting and fawning over the baby as much as you can without waking him up.  

"Just as handsome as your dad," you say. 

It's a lovely sentiment but Charlie does not approve. He blinks awake, signified by your saccharine, "Hi, baby boy," followed by ten seconds of awe-filled cooing. Eddie's frying some bread in the pan but dinner can wait, he wants to see the baby with his eyes open again. 

By the time Eddie reaches the couch, he's crying. 

You move him carefully into a rock-a-bye hold and shush him. "It's alright," you say. 

"He sounds like you." 

"What?" you ask between shushes, hand tapping a slow and gentle rhythm into Charlie's swaddle. 

"He sounds like you when he cries," Eddie insists. 

Not your pained screams a few days ago nor your heart wrenching tears when you're feeling at your worst, but your hormonal sobbing. Like when you saw the commercial about the new 'shoplifters exposed' program on CBS that featured an old lady who stole a tangerine from the grocery store and got arrested despite her having alzheimers. She didn't mean to, Eddie, why would they make her cry like that? In fairness, it was a very upsetting commercial, but you cried for four hours, and for days afterward your eyes would well with tears and he'd know exactly what you were thinking of. 

"When you're on your period," he explains. "When you know you wouldn't usually cry." 

"You think so?" you ask. 

"I think the solution is the same, too." 

You nod your agreement. "He's hungry." 

You and Eddie feed the baby with varying levels of success. Charlie doesn't wanna latch even though it's a bottle teat, causing some confusion —is he not hungry? Is he cold? No, sweetheart, he's not cold, he's got two blankets and the thermostat's at 68 Fahrenheit. Maybe he needs a new diaper? You check. His diaper's clean. 

You're looking more and more defeated by the second. Eddie sits beside you to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. Babies are hard to look after, but he knows you'll both grow into it. You're exhausted from nine long months and a turbulent half day stint of pushing and crying and turning the bones in his hands into powder, your hormones are going crazy, and you're having a tough time. This won't be your forever feeling (though if it were to last, Eddie would stay at your side through that, too, that's not a question). 

"You know what else works when you're not feeling good?" Eddie asks, offering his arms. He isn't some muscled herculean shape, but when you hand Charlie over, his arms look strong. Capable. Holding Charlie feels just as perfect as holding you. "A Munson-style cuddle," he finishes, trying to speak to his wailing son in that same bubbly parentese you've started talking in. 

Eddie did a lot of talking to your bump while you were pregnant, but he was usually just trying to make you laugh. There were times where he'd lay with his nose against your hip and his arm under the bump, wondering about moments like this. What was the baby going to look like? What colour would his eyes be? What will it feel like to hold the baby in his arms? 

Charlie feels lighter than Eddie first prophesied. Small. He has eyes like yours rather than eyes like his and he couldn't love it more. 

Eddie takes the bottle when you offer it and sandwiches the baby to his chest. He doesn't want to condescend you, doesn't want to shoo you off, but Charlie's crying around the bottle and you look veritably miserably. 

"Do you wanna go and make sure the food isn't on the turn?" he asks. When he realised the baby wasn't going to go down easy again he put your plates on a baking sheet and put the oven on low to keep it warm. 

You hesitate. "Are you okay?" 

"I don't know. I think so, sweetheart. We're barely a room away, alright?" 

He's called you sweetheart more since the birth of your son than ever before, which is insane; Eddie's called you sweetheart likely twice a day since the day you met. That's a whole lot of sweethearts. 

With the baby's changing mood comes a change in the weather. Eddie pats his little back, a quiet thump thump thump, while rain lashes the closed windows. The baby finally decides he's hungry, and the mood turns from frenetic to ambient almost immediately. 

"You make sure you eat if you're hungry!" Eddie calls to you. 

"Are you sure?" 

"I think…" He drifts off, distracted by Charlie's long eyelashes, the way they skim under his eyes and the tiny noises he makes as he suckles. "Aw, baby," he murmurs, "good job. I knew you were hungry. You sounded just like your mom." He can't help grinning. Eddie is really talking to his kid right now, his real life baby. "You made her super emotional, but you're her whole world now. You're mine, too, obviously, but I'm cooler than this." He sighs. "No. I'm not. This is the coolest thing ever." 

"What do you think?" you ask softly. 

Eddie looks up. You're standing at the door, staring at them like they're made of sparkling diamond, every inch precious. 

"Right. I think that we're gonna have to start eating when we can. Wayne never had a baby, but he said I was bad enough as a teenager, and Steve said he's lucky if he gets to eat a hot meal some days." 

"Steve does have three," you say, frowning. "We really can't eat together anymore?" 

You ask like you're less bothered than you are. Like a gimmicky Oh, man. Eddie knows it hides a real worry, and right now he's trying to give you the world on a silver platter, so he dots a little kiss on Charlie's head and says warmly into his skin, "No, that's not true. You're going to be such a good kid, me and mom will be eating together all the time. Isn't that right?" 

Eddie looks at you with his head still tilted down. "I wanna eat together, okay? Everything's changing, but dinner doesn't have to. I just wanted you to eat 'cos you left half of your waffles at breakfast." 

"I can wait." 

"Then let's wait. You wanna come and hold him?" 

"No, he's settled. I don't wanna mess it up again." 

"You didn't," Eddie says, firm and sweet at once. "Sweetheart, come here. You didn't mess up, okay? I'm serious, come and sit with me." 

You hesitate in the way. You're still unsteady on your feet despite the few days you've had to recuperate. Though your hair is cleaner than his it certainly isn't clean, nor are the clothes you've pulled on. Eddie read up and asked around on what would be comfiest for you, debating nightgowns and silk pyjamas at length, but all you've wanted to wear is a hoodie you've had since you were a teenager and a pair of sweatpants with fraying cuffs. He loves it —you look like an adorable dork. 

Your stomach visibly churns. Eddie thinks you might chuck up, is already pulling the baby to his chest to place in the bassinet when you take a short, quiet gasp for air. 

"Sorry, I don't know why I feel so on and off. I know it's just hormones. I promise I feel happy– I feel happy–" You gesture an open palm toward him. "He's gorgeous, Eds, he's everything I wanted and so much more, I just– I just feel like crying and I don't know why," you confess, blinking to suppress tears, shifting your weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

Eddie detests seeing you this uneasy, and he swoops in to correct it. 

"Come here," he says again, no hands free to hold out to you. He hopes his voice is inviting enough. 

You shrink into yourself. "I'm being weird." 

"I like when you're weird. I kind of love it. I don't think we'd be in the mess if I didn't love it." 

"It's a mess?" you ask. 

"It's perfect." 

You finally smile, creeping around the bassinet and the needlessly baby proofed coffee table to sit on the edge of the couch with him. Charlie makes a sound in the back of his throat. 

"Hear that? He knows you're here," Eddie murmurs, making room for you hopefully. 

You sidle up to his thigh and lean on his arm, careful not to knock his elbow. You watch Charlie drink his bottle for as long as there's milk left, two ounces knocked back like it's nothing. 

Eddie eases the teat from Charlie's lips carefully. With care but a clumsy imprecise manoeuvre, he lays Charlie down in the bassinet. He has a lot of hair for such a small baby, enough to stroke back from his forehead, soft under Eddie's fingertips. 

"He's really, really beautiful," Eddie says quietly. 

"I know," you say, an anxious hand on your cheek. "I can't believe something as good as him could come from someone like me." 

Eddie stands between your legs, resting a loving hand at the slope of your shoulder. "Why would you ever think something like that?" he asks, his voice as soft as it's ever been, but with a smile in case you don't want to talk about it any more. 

"He's… I'm just not…" 

Eddie gives you time. You've needed it ever since you went into labour, time to piece things together.

"I really thought I was ready," you say, looking up at him with a pinch between your eyebrows.

He brings his hand up to cup your face. You don't lean into it. "Alright, I'm going to talk for a little while, 'n' I know you won't agree with everything I'm saying but I need you to know that this is how I really feel, yeah? Buckle up." Eddie bends down, unafraid of embarrassing himself because it's you. "I know you think these feelings are your fault… that this is some failing, like you're–" He drops his voice to a whisper, "Like you're being a bad mom already, but it's not the truth." 

You startle at being read so easily. "Eds," you mumble. 

"We knew this might be how you felt afterward, the midwife talked and talked about baby blues and you said–" 

"I said I couldn't understand how I'd ever feel sad once he was born," you say, looking at his neck rather than his face. 

"And that's fine, you know? You're not a bad person for thinking it would be perfect and then changing your mind." 

"But he is perfect," you say. 

Eddie rubs your cheek. "He's perfect, but this is hard. Being a new mom with your stitches and your aching tummy and all the gross fluids–" 

You laugh through a groan, pressing your eye into his hand.

He leaps to keep it going. "This isn't how you expected to feel, but that's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Cry if you feel like crying and don't feel fucking guilty about it, this sucks. You had to do the world's most tumultuous campaign for the last nine months and suddenly you're standing at the start of a new one that takes up, like, a gazillion pages with half health and an equally useless companion." 

Your lips press into a thin line, but your eyes are soft and bright despite their obvious fatigue. You bracelet his wrist with your fingers and push his hand further into your cheek. 

"My dork," you murmur. 

"You understand it, don't you? Makes you an even bigger dork."

You nudge your nose into his palm. "I understand. Thank you, honey." 

Eddie's not done. "You said you don't know how something good like him could come from someone like you? I don't think bad was a possibility." 

Your second thank you is better. The first wasn't inauthentic, but this one sounds as though you genuinely believe him. Eddie bows down into a crouch to wrap his arms around you, the majority of his weight on your shoulders and avoiding your sore lower region, and the entirety of his love pressed to your cheek, a long, mindless kiss. 

"I love you," you say. 

Eddie tucks his head against yours, ignoring his protesting knees. "I love you, too." 

Your food turns to dry mulch by the time you remember it in the oven. You're too distracted by Eddie's hug, his offering for a shoulder massage, and the subsequent second hug that ensues, your back to his chest, dozing in the sanctuary of his arms. Munson-style cuddles are his expertise.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you for reading!

[hgfictionwriter]

Ache

Jessie Fleming x reader

Summary: Sometimes love isn't enough. Despite how much you and Jessie love each other, life gets in the way.

A/N / Warning: Angst. And no smut. Yet lol.

A heavy sigh escaped you as you rounded the corner to your apartment. Your eyes were trained on the concrete below as you dug in your pocket for your keys. The evening wind was brisk and sharp against your skin. When you lifted your gaze, the figure before you froze you in your tracks and your chest tightened immediately, breath catching in your throat.

"Jessie?"

She'd been staring at the ground and her head snapped up as she was broken from her thoughts. She shot up from where she'd been sitting on the ledge of the garden outside your building. Her eyes were wide as she looked to you and though she opened her mouth to speak, the words were lost on the tip of her tongue.

It'd been weeks since you'd talked and so much longer since she'd been to your apartment. You swallowed and internally cursed at how, even after all this time, just the sight of Jessie made your eyes prickle with the start of tears.

"Again?" She'd asked. Her voice was tired as it came through the phone and you cast your gaze down at the disappointment that bled through.

"I'm sorry. I tried to get someone else to go, but I own the account, so-"

"I know, I get it," she cut you off. There was no malice in her voice, but it wasn't any less sad. "I know you have to go."

"I'll be back on the 6th. My flight doesn't get in until after dinner, but you can come over," you told her, trying to sound positive.

"I leave for camp at 4 the next morning." Again, her words were simple and they weren't accusatory, but the heaviness between you was loud. You stopped trying to hide.

"We've only seen each other once this month," you stated.

"I know," she said quietly.

Silence began to fill your conversation.

"So, what do we do?" You finally asked. Your chest already ached knowing what the answer was. This feeling, this moment, had been creeping in for months. You'd done what you could to keep it at bay, but its inevitable arrival was here.

A few seconds later she responded.

"I don't think things are going to change any time soon." Her voice was soft, mixed with regret and acceptance. "And it shouldn't. We're both doing what we should be doing. I can't slow down - I have to make the most of my career while I can. It's the same for you."

"I know," you agreed as tears began to well in your eyes. "I'm so proud of you, you know." You added with a small laugh that didn't fully veil the way your voice choked up. "And I never want to hold you back."

"I'm proud of you, too," she echoed, her own voice growing thick with emotion. "And same - I'd never want to hold you back either."

"I really love you," you continued and your voice cracked under the strain. "I hope you've felt that."

"I have." She sniffled. "I love you, too, and I hope you've never had to doubt that."

You bit down on your lip, looking up to the ceiling as tears began to fall down your cheeks.

"I guess this is it,” you said more than asked as your voice wavered.

Another sniffle came through the phone. "I think so." Her voice was taut. "I still want to be friends," she added in a rush, her voice shaking, "but this isn't working. I can't give you what you need, and..."

"I can't give you what you need," you finished for her.

"Yeah," she admitted quietly. "I've never wanted someone the way I want you. I love you so much-" her voice was breaking "-I miss you all the time. And even when we're together, it breaks my heart because I know we have to leave again soon."

"It hurts to be together and apart. I know the feeling," you relayed sadly. "I wish it wasn't this way. I can't imagine loving anyone more."

"I don't want to ask you to wait. And I know you won't ask me to wait for you because neither of us wants to make promises we can't keep."

"Jessie." Her name came out in a strangled whimper and you heard her cry.

"I can't imagine not loving you. But, if you meet someone who makes you happy and gives you what you need...," she trailed off.

"I understand. And I wish the same for you," you said even though it felt like a dagger through your heart.

Silence infiltrated your conversation once more before a laugh escaped you, though it came out more like a sob.

"I did not expect this call to go this way."

Jessie gave a watery laugh of her own. "Me neither." A pause. "I guess it's been coming though."

"I know," you relented. "I just didn't want it to be true."

After a few moments, Jessie spoke again.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, too, Jessie. Always."

You said you'd be friends, but it was all at once too easy and too difficult. As was the problem, it wasn't that often you got to see each other or talk, but when you did, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be with her. So when she stood too close, held your gaze for too long, or when you'd hug at the end of the night and hold onto one another too tightly and for too long, it tore you apart.

That had gone on for nearly a year, and it hadn't gotten any easier. You fell back into old habits just too easily.

The last time you saw each other, at a mutual friend’s birthday, she’d come over to say “hi”. Innocent enough until something as simple as showing her something on your phone turned into you two sitting so close together your legs touched. As you talked, if you turned your head too much to the side your lips would’ve grazed her cheek. Did she mean for her hand to brush against yours?

The only way to move on was to cut yourself off completely. She'd understood and she even apologized for making things difficult, but it wasn't just her, it was you too.

Now, here she was sitting outside of your apartment, shivering and cold, looking to you and struggling to find her words.

"What are you doing here?" You finally asked. "Shouldn't you be with the team?"

"You saw?" She asked, looking so innocent and you cursed the rush of affection that rose in you.

"Win the Shield? Of course I did." You had to laugh. A smile finally broke out across her freckled face and that still too familiar pink tinge grew darker across her cheeks. You relented some. "You were great. No surprise."

Jessie began to fidget, her hands jostling in her jacket pockets and she shuffled idly from foot to foot. She scratched the back of her neck as she went back to studying the pavement. This time she managed to speak though.

"I-I'm sorry to show up out of the blue. I just - we were all celebrating, and of course I was happy, but, I-I don't know." She huffed in frustration. “I’ve been sitting here thinking and planning what I was going to say and now…”

"It's okay, Jess," you told her gently, understanding that this was not her norm and something was clearly going on. She looked up at you and gave a couple of grateful nods. She studied you for a few seconds and it pained you that even during that time you were getting lost in her eyes.

"I know you said you don't want to see me - that being around each other and talking was making it too hard to move on." She paused, though her eyes didn't leave yours. You saw her steel herself and she straightened up as she continued. "But I don't want to move on. And, to be honest, I've known it deep down for a while now.

"Today - every game, really - I found myself looking out into the crowd too many times searching for you. And when we were leaving, everyone's all stoked to go out and party, but I just wanted to be with you - anywhere with you. I wanted to share this with you. So, even after a year of me trying to tell myself that we made the right decision, I know we - or at least I - was dead wrong. Because I miss you. So much.” Her voice wavered and her eyes glistened. “It's not just this that I want to share with you - it's every day, little moments and the big. I don’t care if it has to be through text or a call most of the time. It just has to be you.”

"Jessie." You breathed her name out, trying desperately to process everything she was telling you. She took a step towards you, shoulders set and determined and she carried on.

"I love you. From the beginning and I never stopped. I know you're trying to move on, but this is me taking a chance and telling you how I feel. I don't want you to move on - I want to be the person you come home to, the person you call, with you through the good and the bad. I know our schedules are still a problem, but I'd rather have one evening with you than a year without."

Your breath hitched as her proclamations grew. You saw her clench and unclench her fists nervously before she continued.

“And even if one day you’d decide we could be friends again,” she trailed off momentarily, gaze shifting away before settling on you once again resolutely, “honestly, I don’t want to be friends. You’re right - we can’t be friends. I can’t be next to you and pretend I don’t want to hold you, I don’t want to kiss you. Or talk with you and not tell you that I love you and you mean the world to me. And,” she took a steadying breath, “I’m really hoping that you feel the same.”

Jessie fidgeted a bit, some of her doubt and insecurity creeping back in. Still, she looked at you with hopeful eyes.

"So, will you have me?"

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ace Trappola - Suitor Suit Vignette

"I love..."

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Crowley: Dearie me… Today was indeed an ordeal.

Crowley: It seems the ghosts have all disappeared, leaving our cafeteria still decorated for a wedding ceremony.

Crowley: How dare they take no responsibility for what happened.

Crowley: We won't be able to open for meals tomorrow if it stays like this.

Crowley: So, young freshmen. I'll leave it to you to clear up this "wedding venue" before heading back to your dormitories, then.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Ehhhh～～～!?

Ace: When you say freshmen… That doesn't include me 'n Epel in all our tuxedo glory, right?

Crowley: No, I mean all freshmen. I pride myself as an educator who treats all my students the same!

Epel: Oh, come on…

Ace: Give us a break, already. I did so much today, I'm wiped out.

Crowley: I will admit that you played an integral part in today's procession… But that is that, and this is this.

Crowley: I do hope you lively youngsters will be quick about it!

Grim: Hey, Yuu. Stop spacing out! We're makin' a run for it before the Headmage notices us.

Crowley: Ah, of course, that includes [Yuu]-kun and Grim-kun, too.

Grim: Myaaaah!!

Epel: Urgh. I've thrown away so many of these ribbon off the walls, and there's still more to go.

Grim: Whenever I try pullin' the lace off, it keeps getting' caught on my claws!

Ace: This chair's real sturdy. Where'd they even find… Wait, it's a tombstone! [shudders]

1. We're not anywhere close to getting finished. 2. I wanna go home already.

Ortho: Hey everyone, I'm here to help too, so let's put our all into it!

Ace: …Arrrgh, come on! I did so much to help out, too!

Ace: How much trouble do ghosts gotta put us through before they're satisfied, anyway?

Ace: 500 years? Crazy they've been obsessing over something like "love" for that long.

Ace: I'm pretty pissed at those ghost soldiers, sure… But I don't understand what that princess was thinking at all.

Ace: I'd've had a lot less trouble if she'd just given up on the whole marriage thing and lived a happy afterlife instead…

Epel: …

Epel: Ace-kun… Has there ever been someone you liked?

Ace: Huh!? Why're you asking me that all of a sudden?

Epel: Just thought it was strange… You saying she was "obsessive" or that you "don't understand" her.

Epel: 'Cause you kinda give off this vibe that you'd know a bit more about relationships.

Ace: What, you saying I'm a playboy or something?

Epel: N-No, I'm not saying that.

Grim: You shouldn't tease Ace like that, askin' about his love life. No way he'd have any idea about that sorta stuff.

Grim: There's no way a jerk like him would ever have any luck.

Ace: Hey, can you try not being jealous of me for one sec?

Ace: Back in middle school, even I had a girlfriend I'd take to amusement parks or movie theaters or whatever.

Grim: Wh-What!? You're soundin' pretty cocky for someone like you, Ace!

Ortho: Amusement parks and movies, hm. My manual says that regardless of the generation, those are pretty popular date spots!

Epel: Nice… all this talkin' about datin' and such's makin' me feel like we're really at our peak high school guy talk stage!

Epel: So? What happened?

Ace: Well…

Ace: You know girls, they're so scared of roller coasters, so all we'd ride was the merry-go-round or the ferris wheel.

Ace: She'd say everything was "Cute!" and take a ton of Magicam pictures, but I didn't really see what was so exciting about those rides.

Ace: Plus, whenever we went to see a movie, she never wanted to watch action or horror movies, just romance and cute animal movies…

Ace: It was just borin' with her, so we just slowly stopped messaging each other.

Epel: Oh, I see. Doesn't that seem a little…disappointing?

Ace: Yeah, but the worst was still to come. After I started slowly distancing myself, whaddya think happened next?

Ace: …One day, this group of girls I'd never met in my life started shouting at me…

Ace: "Why didn't you ever call her?" "How could you!" "She's been crying non-stop!" "You brute!"

Ace: …And they went on and on scolding me! What's with that, some kind of solidarity between girls or whatever?

Ace: That's when I realized. Love is just a pain to deal with!

Ace: I have way more fun just hangin' with the guys.

Grim: Man, you're just a kid, after all.

Ace: Don't wanna hear that from you, of all people.

Ace: …But, anyway!

Ace: I think it's not me we gotta worry about, but those guys over there.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Hm?

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Ace: I think it's not me we gotta worry about, but those guys over there.

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Hm?

Deuce: Hey, Ace. What have you guys been chatting away about over there?

Jack: Urgh… It's already past midnight and I don't think I can stay awake any longer. Let's hurry and finish cleaning up already.

Ace: You guys are tryin' to act all cool, but who was it that was just rolling around on the floor all day today?

Ace: Look at 'em, Grim. You should be saying that these dunderheads who couldn't even succeed in their mission are more like kids.

Grim: Hm, I guess…?

Grim: Deuce did look pretty lame when he froze up tryin' to talk to that bride.

Ace: Riiiight～?! I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe at all.

Deuce: Wha… I couldn't help it! I'm not used to talking to girls.

Deuce: I clam up when I start thinking that I might say something stupid and callous…

Ace: Your middle school was co-ed, wasn't it? Weren't you popular enough?

Ace: I always thought that guys with that "tough guy" image always had girls falling at their feet.

Deuce: Falling at my feet?

Deuce: …Nah, no one ever talked to me.

Deuce: Every girl other than my mom ―or rather, every guy, too― would run away the moment we made eye contact.

Ace: Ah, I see… So you were just so scary no one wanted to come close…

Ace: Jack got rejected pretty quick too, so I guess guys who just look scary from the get-go just can't get girls, huh.

Jack: That's all useless talk. I don't really care if people like me.

Ace: Oho? What, you a sore loser or something?

Jack: No. Wolf beastmen like myself are destined to find the one person to care about forever.

Jack: Both my parents and my grandparents are the same… From the moment they wake up to the moment they go to sleep, they're always together. Even when taking a walk or having meals.

Jack: When the time comes that I fall in love, I plan on being with them for the rest of my life.

Jack: That's why I don't care if a bunch of folks like me.

Ace: Th... That's waaaaay too deep!

Ace: Dude, you're still a student, and you're talking about "the rest of my life"… You're taking this "love" stuff way too seriously!

Deuce: Also, can you really think about marriage before you've even got a career plan set up?

Grim: What a pain! I definitely don't wanna ever date Jack.

Jack: Well, I'm not asking you to!

Ace: Then, I guess it's more guys like Epel that'd get the most attention.

Ace: Instead of being scary looking, he's a pretty boy with potential!

Epel: Eh, m-me!?

Ace: Well, you were askin' about others, so you should cough up a story too. Was there anyone back home you had a crush on?

Epel: Uh…

Ace: Come on～ Don't keep it a secret～ We're tux buddies, ain't we?

Deuce: That's a rude way to drag him in. Why're you so hung up on hearing about other people's love lives?

Jack: I bet he's hoping that other people'll do his share of the clean up while he keeps the conversation going.

Deuce: Makes sense. That's a pretty Ace-like move.

Ace: You guys are totally interested in hearing too!

Jack/Deuce: Well…

Ace: You ever get confessed to? Was there someone you liked? Or even dated someone!?

Epel: …

Jack/Deuce/Ace: …!

Epel: …Hate to break it to you guys when you're all looking at me so intently…

Epel: But there's not many people in my hometown. And even then, most of the people there either way older or way younger than me.

Epel: I never really got to spend time with people my age once I came here to Night Raven College…

Epel: All I did was help out on my family's farm… So I don't really have any exciting story…

Ace: Dang, so you don't have any fun stories too, huh.

Epel: Sorry I couldn't live up to your expectations.

Ortho: If I were to compare against prior data gathered of boys of similar age, it seems like everyone here is drastically lacking when it comes to living your youthful years.

Ace: Shut it!

Sebek: Hey! Humans! You've all stalled in your work.

Sebek: IF YOU'VE GOT TIME TO CHIT-CHAT, STACK THE CHAIRS!

Ace: Here he comes, the guy who's got the worst chance among us.

Jack: Yeah, I was pretty disappointed too.

Sebek: Hmph. All of you are just going back and forth about falling in love and whatnot.

Sebek: We are students. If you have time for that sort of ridiculous leisure, you should focus on your studies instead!

Grim: Don't be talkin' down to us! You were one of the first to get rejected!

Sebek: I was not rejected! I rejected her!

Sebek: I am busy training every single day to be a capable guard for Malleus-sama. I have no time for frivolities like "love."

Ace: You say that, but what if someone that was really your type shows up one day?

Ace: You plannin' on droning on and on about Malleus-senpai to that person, too?

Sebek: I fully know what to do. Lilia-sama has explained to me what I should do if I were to meet my soulmate.

Sebek: …FIRST I WOULD CRAFT FOR THEM A WELL-THOUGHT OUT CORRESPONDENCE!

Ace: Correspondence!!?? You mean, write a letter!?

Ace: That's like something our grandparents would do!

Deuce: It'd be better if you sent a message on Magicam or email instead.

Sebek: Why is that? Lilia-sama would say that "Fountain pens and stationary are a lover's weapon."

Sebek: One should lay out their thoughts in the missive, and every third letter, also include a picture with a smile. This should continue until the 25th full moon of the courtship.

Sebek: Once enough correspondence has been exchanged…

Sebek: We are to sit on a bench together in Briar Valley Central Park, leaving enough space for one between us!

Epel: Yeah, you're definitely being led on…

Sebek: WHAT!!?? HOW DARE A LOWLY HUMAN DOUBT LILIA-SAMA LIKE SO!!??

Ace: Yeah, yeah. Pipe down already. It'll go on and on if we don't nip it in the bud here, so let's call it quits here!

Ace: [sigh]… But maybe Sebek has a bit of a point.

Jack: What, you gonna write some letters too?

Ace: Oh yeah, yeah, I'd totally whip out the white stationary and write in cursive "I love"… Not!!

Ace: Even for this, me and Epel needed Riddle-ryōchō and Rook-senpai's help, right?

Epel: …Yeah. If we didn't have those two, I don't think we would've been able to get as far as we did.

Ace: You know, it came to me when I saw my Housewarden taking on all those ghosts.

Ace: "My Housewarden's pretty cool."

Ace: I wanna get better at using magic, man.

Ace: I can't even compare against my Housewarden or other upperclassmen right now, but...

Ace: But someday, I'll totally show off what all I can do, and be all, "Check me out now!"

Ace: I totally get a jolt through my body imagining the shock on their faces when I finally show my awesome skills, see?

Ace: And in order to get to that point… I guess I need to focus up a bit more in my studies before thinking anything about love.

Epel: …Yeah. You're right. I think so too!

Sebek: Hmph. See, you do get it.

Deuce: Yeah, we need to hunker down with our studies.

Jack: When Deuce with all his failing marks says that, it just feels even more important to think about.

Sebek/Epel/Ace: Yeah.

Deuce: Why are you all in step when it comes to things like this!?

Ace: …Putting that all aside, we just really got carried away in conversation, huh. We ain't nowhere near done putting the cafeteria back in order!

Ace: Not only did we have to deal with all those ghosts, but now we gotta be held after to do more work…

Ace: We're so lame. Nothing good came out of today at all.

Ortho: That's not true!

Ace: Eh?

[Cafeteria – Wedding Ceremony]

Ortho: I was watching the video with the Headmage when you barged into the wedding ceremony, and…

Ortho: It felt like I was watching a movie, seeing you burst in with your flower bouquet, shouting out "Wait a sec!"

Ortho: You were so passionately coming to my brother's rescue…

Ortho: It was suuuuuuuuuuuper cool!

Ace: Huh? I wasn't passionate anything.

Ace: That was because I had just finished running away from the ghosts… or more like I got caught up in the flow.

Ortho: Nah. I saw just how serious you looked when you rushed into the room.

Ortho: You totally meant every word you said to the bride and her retainers, didn't you?

Grim: There ain't no way Ace'd say anything that genuine.

Grim: All he did was just ramble on about stuff without putting in any thought, I bet.

Ace: Y-Yeah, yeah! You got it right on the money, Grim.

Ortho: Judging from what I gleaned from my infrared sensor, with his elevated body temperature, voice pitch and pupil dilation…

Ortho: All the preceding data brings us to the conclusion that Ace was being genuine.

Ortho: …There's no need for you to hide it. You're really shy, huh!

Deuce: Which means…

Sebek: All he said to the ghost bride about the "perfect marriage partner"…

Jack: Was Ace's actual genuine thoughts!?

Ortho: Yup. There's no doubt.

Ortho: It's wonderful that you have a real good image of your ideal partner.

Ace: Hah!? No way! Absolutely no way!

Ace: I just said whatever I thought the ghosts would swallow!

Jack/Deuce/Sebek: Ohooo～～??

Grim: Protesting too much, don'tcha think?

Ortho: Even the Headmage said, "I'm growing fonder of Trappola-kun by the second!"

Ortho: Based on prior literature, statistically speaking, if you were to confess to someone with the same passion as you did today…

Ortho: You're sure to have no trouble getting someone to fall in love with you!

Ace: There ain't no passion. That wasn't a confession!

Ace: …And all you stop your stupid grinning!

Epel: Wow, I didn't realize how much you put into it…

Epel: I wish I could've seen you looking so cool, Ace-kun.

Ortho: Leave it to me! I still have the recording. I'll send you the video later.

Ace: STOP WITH THE RECORDING!

Deuce: Oh, nice thinking. We should all watch it later once we're done clearing everything away. You guys good with doing it at Ramshackle?

Jack: Running a play-by-play could be fun. I'm feeling more awake now.

Sebek: I shall give my own evaluation of it as well!

Sebek: You said I was the guy today with the worst chance among all of us. I'll make sure to thoroughly lambast you as penance.

Ace: DON'T BE TRYING TO MAKE INTO A VIEWING PARTY!

1. No need to be shy. 2. We just want to pay tribute to your gallant speech.

Ortho: Yeah～!

Ortho: That's why you, Ace Trappola-san, who already has thought of what his ideal partner would be…

Ortho: Is the best suited suitor of all!

Ace: …Aaaaah, come on! I've already told you… I wasn't serious at all!

Grim: Woah. Ace's turned completely red even to the tips of his ears!

Deuce: Haha, you're right. This isn't something we get to ever see.

Jack: Hey, Ortho. Make sure you capture this moment too.

Grim: You too, [Yuu], snap a shot on the ghost camera!

Ace: Why's everyone gotta mess with me like this…?

Ace: Just drop it already, guys～～!

Requested by Anonymous.