#I’ll stop coughing eventually probably

[thatfaerieprincess]

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#friends I can not stop coughing #I know I’ve been joking that I’ll have this cough until it becomes pneumonia #but I’m like genuinely not joking #every few days I feel like maybe im starting to loosen something up #but then it goes back to this right dry cough and I can’t catch my breath #cough drops barely help #water barely helps #i just cough constantly #to absolutely no end #the only solace rn is that I don’t have a rattle when I breath #but deeps breaths make me cough again #so it is what it is #idk I’m just rambling here bc it satisfies the desire to complain to someone without having to direct this at someone specifically #so feel free to ignore #I’ll stop coughing eventually probably #im a rambling sam

[lovelettersfromluna]

Hanahaki

summary: Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 (Japanese); 하나하키병 (Korean); 花吐病 (Chinese)) is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love.

an: trying something new with this one, I hope you all like it. Love you mwah mwah (thank you to the anon who inspired this!!)

Warnings: MDNI!, 18+, eventual smut in future chapters, ANGST (when I mean angst, I mean angst girl), loser!Ellie if you squint, reader is oblivious, mentions of fictional illness/disease, mentions of alternative love interest, alcohol usage, marijuana usage, mentions of death, mentions of vomiting (it isn’t graphic I promise it’s literally just flowers), let me know if I missed anything!

You can read part 2 here!!

The sound of different voices and loud giggles replaced the music that was once filling up the old jeep with music, the two sounds dominating each other, creating something that could only be recognized as a group of young, dumb people. The car was dark, and Ellie couldn’t really see anything, not when you were settled on her lap, blocking her view from the outside through the car windows.

She wasn’t complaining, of course she wasn’t. Her hands were wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to her, squished between two other people in your friend group in the back of the car. She was drunk, and high, and she could faintly smell the ocean with each passing moment, the sea breeze growing closer and filling up the stuffy car.

The wind filling up the car blew your soft hair into Ellie’s face, giving her a whiff of your floral shampoo. She couldn’t help but lean in, giving your hips a gentle squeeze as she pressed her nose to your neck, relishing in the feeling of your soft skin against her lips.

You were always her favorite feeling.

She couldn’t even feel it entirely, but the car has stopped. The only reason she knew, was because she felt the spaces next to her become vacant, her friends laughing loudly as they tumbled out of the car and booked it for the beach, sand kicking behind them, nearly falling over their own feet.

She felt you shift in her lap, a soft smile on your lips, pretty eyes just as hazy as her own.

“You comin’ El?” You asked softly, your words like honey on your tongue, music to Ellie’s ears.

She was in a trance, not having seen your pretty face since you and your friends had left the party you were at, all of you packing yourselves away in a jeep and heading to the beach. Every time you looked at her, giving her that soft smile, and those kind eyes, it was like it was the first time she was seeing you all over again.

And you never failed to leave her speechless, even on the simplest occasions.

A loud bang on the roof of the car made her jump slightly, earning a giggle from you.

“C’mon love birds! Or else I’ll drag you out myself” Ellie could decipher the voice to be a friend of both you and her who was the one who’d driven you all out to the beach in the first place.

You giggled softly, scooting off her lap, taking her wrist in your hand and tugging her out of the car. Ellie could barely feel her feet carrying her behind you, watching as you dragged her out to the beach.

The moon was so bright, illuminating the white sand, and the dark, calm waters. Ellie remembers hearing the waves crashing against each other, and the sounds of your friends arguing, giggling with each other as they tried setting up a bonfire, which she hoped wouldn’t get you guys in trouble. She remembers the feeling of your soft hands wrapped around her wrist, she image of you in front of her in nothing but a pair of old denim shorts and a faded out band t shirt that was probably hers.

She recalls the way you tugged her away from everyone else, it was always like that. Somehow, no matter the situation or the occasion, you and Ellie ended up strayed away from everyone else. At parties, sleepovers, any general outing, it was you and her, and no one else. It was like everyone simply knew to leave you two, that your disappearance with one another was inevitable. You were the ring leader, always grabbing Ellie and pulling her away from everyone, wanting her all to yourself.

It made Ellie’s heart swell every single time.

Your small hands would interlock with hers, and she’d know that she was done for. She was yours entirely, whether you knew it or not.

The sand was cold beneath Ellie’s body, her hands sinking further into the powdery substance, deep inhales coming in through her nostrils, the spinning she once felt in the world around her slowly stopped. Her eyes were on the ground, and yours were up at the sky as you sat next to her.

“Do you think there’s anyone out there doing the exact same thing as us right now?” You hummed out softly, palms settled behind you on the sand as you stared up at the stars.

Ellie raised her eyebrows at your question, a soft chuckle leaving her as she moved her green eyes up to stare at the stars with you, mimicking your position.

“Probably…none are like us though” she sighed out softly.

She’d never say anything like that sober. You were always the bold one between you and her. Ellie was shy, and quiet and she’d always blush like an idiot whenever you’d say things like that, or compliment her, or when you’d do anything, really. But it was true, no one, no matter how similar their situation was to you and her, would never come close to what you and Ellie had.

What you and Ellie had was special, it was like buried treasure. It was something that was hard to find, and it was a connection like no other that had ever existed, or ever would exist, and you and her both knew that.

You were Ellie’s treasure.

You giggled softly, nodding at her words. “I agree…none like us…” you agree, eyes still trained on the blanket of stars above.

Ellie felt your hands wrap around her arm, and tug her down to lay back on the sand. She didn’t make any attempt to stop you, allowing you to do with her as you pleased.

You were both laid down, staring up at the stars in silence, simply enjoying each others company with one another. There were no thoughts, no worries, no overthinking, it was just you and her.

And Ellie loved that most about being with you.

Ellie could hear your breathing slowly evening out, the sound of sleep overcoming was familiar to her in you. You’d always been the one to fall asleep first, Ellie took note of that very early on in your friendship, remembering the many sleepovers you’d have where you’d fallen asleep in record time, making Ellie envious of you.

A soft, sleepy hum left your lips, and she could feel you scoot closer to her, tucking your body into the side of hers, your hand going down and interlocking your fingers with hers, pressing your cheek against your shoulder before you looked up at her.

Ellie felt like she’d break when you looked up at her, eyes big and glossy, lashes webbed together. You’d always had the pettiest eyes she’d ever seen, making her heart stop every single time you looked up at her.

“El…” you whispered softly, barely loud enough for her to hear.

She swallows thickly, nervous to keep eye contact with you, or to even speak, fearing that her voice should deceive her and crack, letting you know just how much of a hold you had on her.

She took a deep inhale before giving you a nod. “Yeah?” She replied softly, her voice shaky.

You simply gave her a soft smile, one of your hands coming up and gently tracing over her features. You traced over the outline of her lips, her nose, her eyebrows, her freckles. Ellie sighed softly as you did so, eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into your touch.

A moment passed of this, of you gently touching her face, Ellie close to passing out at any moment from the soft, feather-like touches.

“M’gonna marry you someday….know I will…” you hummed out, your voice dripping with that dreamy, sleepy sound that made it clear how far away you were.

Ellie’s eyes opened at this, her breath hitching in her throat at your confession, your promise. She felt her freckled cheeks burn when she looked down at your sleepy face, a lazy smile on your lips as your eyes grew heavier and heavier with each passing moment.

You had a habit of saying anything that had been plaguing your mind whenever you were tired, in between that blissful state of sleep and wake. It got even worse when you were high, Ellie knew that. You’d admitted the most outrageous things when you were like that.

But never anything like this.

She didn’t even have time to respond, because your eyes were already closed, lips parted as soft snores escaped.

She inhaled deeply, turning her head back to stare up at the sky, trying her best to ignore the burning feeling in her stomach, in her chest, in her heart. It was everywhere, eating her up and demanding to be acknowledged.

You, her best friend that she’d been in love with almost her entire life, had promised to marry her someday.

It was something Ellie knew would follow her for the rest of her life, for as long as she lived. She didn’t know whether to hate you for it, or to love you for it.

Ellie had know about her feelings for you for a very long time.

She’d go as far as to say it was something along the lines of love at first sight, but she didn’t want to be dramatic.

It was a classic story of playground love, the two of you meeting at a very young age, practically babies, and becoming inseparable from that point on.

Maybe it was the way you had no problems with tugging on the little girls pigtail that kept bullying her. Looking back at it, the kid probably had a crush on her in all honesty, but you had a zero bullshit tolerance policy, even at the age of six years old.

Or maybe it was the way she didn’t hesitate to punch the kid in the nose that pushed you off the swing during recess. It seemed she too had a zero bullshit tolerance policy.

It was always like that. You protected each other, you from idiot boys that picked on you, and her from dumb little girls who were still navigating their feelings, and in that came the bully’s that they grew to be.

So yeah, you and Ellie were stuck to the hip from the moment she could remember. In all of her earliest memories, you were there, a big smile on your face, always rooting for her.

Ellie was a shy kid. Sure, she had a mouth to tell off an idiot whenever she needed to, but she liked being alone. The only person she really liked spending time with was her dad, and what’s wrong with that? Her dad was fucking cool.

You were the complete opposite. You were bright, and loud and confident. You brought colors to Ellie’s life. You talked, and she listened.

And Ellie didn’t want it any other way.

It was like this all throughout school, and into college. You two followed the same education path of course, refusing to be without one another during the cruelest times of a persons life, the disgusting transfer from the life of a child to the life of an adult.

She figured if she was going to be miserable, she’d be miserable with you by her side.

It was like a dream, having you so often? She has the privilege of keeping you by her side all throughout her childhood, and now she had you by her side through her adulthood.

Ellie wanted you all to to herself. She was selfish, she knew that, but how could she help herself? You’d been hers for so long, there was no chance she’d give you up now.

Ellie recalls a rainy night in her car. It was cold, and it was so miserable out that she had no choice but to wait it out a bit before taking you home.

It was a routine night for you two. She didn’t have class that day, so she’d pick you up from your last one, and you’d sleep over at her apartment for the night since it was the weekend.

She looked over at you, soft hums to the quiet music playing in her car coming from your body, your head resting against the window as you drew little patterns with the condensation that had grown on the window.

“What’s on your mind, babe?” Ellie questioned softly.

You weren’t usually that quiet. You always had so much to tell Ellie when she picked you up, or any case for that matter. You were a little fireball, always beaming with something knew you’d learned that day, the grade you got from your professor, or the latest class gossip that you just had to share with Ellie.

But not that day. You were too quiet, made Ellie feel strange.

You hummed softly in response, turning towards her with raised eyebrows. The hoodie you had on framed your face cutely, a few strands of your hair poking out and laying against it. Your eyeliner had bled out a bit throughout the day, Ellie thought you looked pretty either way, though. Your head was resting against the seat, a soft smile on your face as you shook your head.

“Nothin…I just…” you tried, finding it hard to explain yourself.

You let out a gentle huff before turning your body towards Ellie a bit more. The car was dark, the only thing illuminating your face was the street light in the parking lot that you two were in. She could see that your features were soft, tranquil. You looked so genuinely happy, and that expression alone made Ellie’s heart burst with a warmth that consumed her so much, it was almost too much.

“I’ve met someone, El” you admitted, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you bit back and excited smile, eyes twinkling in the dim light of her car, glimmering with a kind of happiness that Ellie had never seen before in you.

She felt her chest heave, pain suddenly blooming throughout her body.

It’s something she’s never felt before. It’s ugly, and nasty, and raw. It feels like when you have a cold, and your lungs are in a constant state of disgust, that gross sore feeling spreading throughout them. She feels exasperated, like you’ve just broken the worst news she could’ve ever received on a rainy Friday night.

You frown softly, a gentle pout on your lips as you reach over, grabbing her arm gently and giving her a shake.

“Ellie? Did you hear what I said?” You ask softly, trying to break your friend away from whatever has a hold on her.

But she’s frozen, and she can feel her eyes burning from a lack of blinking, and from the tears that are prickling at the back of her throat. She could feel the way you grabbed her, shaking her gently, it almost isn’t enough to bring her back from her own personal state of hell that your words have sent her to, a place where you’re gone, taken away by someone else.

Someone that isn’t her.

It does anyways. She blinks her eyes a few times, clearing her throat as her eyes focused on you. She gives you a nod, green eyes big and wide like she’s seen a ghost.

You giggled softly, moving back to rest your head against the seat as you stared at her.

“Been meaning to tell you…she’s…she’s so great, Ellie…she makes me feel…” you let out a dreamy sigh, your eyes drifting down to look at your hand, which is toying with the bracelet around your wrist, a shy smile on your face as you practically beamed down at it.

Ellie’s eyes silently follow, catching eye of the way your sweater pushed up a bit to reveal the little pink rope that’s around your wrist. She’d never seen it, and it’s perched right under the bracelet that Ellie had made you when you two were kids. Hers is blue and purple, and far prettier in her opinion.

Her heart hurts at the sight of someone else’s bracelet on your pretty wrist.

She stared down at it for a while before her eyes drift up to your face. She could see the warmth spread across your face, radiating from your chest, from your fucking soul. It’s like the you’re smiling down at the fucking bracelet is making you so warm, that it’s warming up the car and wafting Ellie in the face.

It’s love. Ellie can see it.

And you deserve it. God, you’ve always fucking deserved it. You deserve a great big house, someone who loves you dearly coming home to you every night, showering you in all of the love and affection that you have ever wanted and needed. You deserve someone who shows you off, someone who’s proud of everything you do, even the small, stupid things that don’t fucking matter. You deserve someone who cherish you every day as if you’re a fucking gem, a one of a kind gem that only appears once every thousand years.

But fuck…Ellie always wished that person would’ve been her.

She knows she can’t dwell on it, because you’re simply doing what any young person looking for love does. You went out and found someone else, you found someone that makes you smile like that, the way you were smiling across from Ellie in her car.

She can’t be selfish, not now.

Ellie inhales deeply before she puts on her best, most believable smile, freckled cheeks rounding out as she gave you a nod.

“She sounds great…you’ve gotta introduce us someday” she sighed out softly, putting on her best cover up to hide the disappointment she felt deep within her soul.

It’s the way your face beamed even further when you looked up at her, eyes twinkling like the brightest star, the most expensive diamond in the fucking world, that makes Ellie weak in the goddam knees. It’s like all you’ve wanted was her approval, like the main thing holding you back from telling her about the lucky girl that has her heart, is fear that she wouldn’t approve of her.

And that look, further cemented Ellie’s decision in swallowing down her stupid feelings, and ignoring the hammering pain in her lungs.

“Yeah…yeah I will” you promised, giving her a nod, that big, beautiful smile still on your lips.

Ellie can barely bring herself to indulge in the pain she feels, because you looked so fucking happy, and that’s all she’d ever wanted, was for you to be fucking happy.

She smiled back at you, giving a nod before she craned her neck down a bit, looking up at the sky and seeing that the rain had gone from a heavy pour, to a subtle drizzle.

Ellie gave soft hum, nodding to herself as she turned the key to her car to turn it on.

“Looks like it’s let up a bit…let’s get you home-“ her words were cut off but a nasty cough ratting through her lungs, worse than any cold or any blunt had every brought to her. She brought her fist up to her lips, covering it up. It brought tears to her eyes, made her cheeks red. You frowned deeply at the sight, bringing your hand up to rub her back gently.

“Shit…you catching a cold, El?” You questioned softly, concern laced in your words.

Ellie cleared her throat, shaking her head as she straightened her back out.

“Nah…all the smoking I’ve done is probably catching up to me” she joked with a soft chuckle before she looked at you, giving you a soft smile.

“Let’s get you home” she hummed out softly before she pulled out of the parking lot and began making her way to your apartment, not hers.

At first, Ellie didn’t really think much of it.

She assumed that she was simply coming down with a cold, or her excuse to you was right. Maybe all the blunts she’d smoked had finally caught up with her. Her father had always told her they would.

She had thought of everything. The flu, pneumonia, bronchitis, everything in the goddamn book, but every time she went to her doctor with the concern of any of them, he simply shrugged, gave her a gentle smile and told her she was as healthy as could be.

But the cough never got better.

It was annoying at first, her throat was scratchy, and most days she’d be able to simply clear her throat to alleviate the discomfort. Cough drops would help, a cup of tea her and there, soothing the ache she felt her and there throughout the day.

But then? Came the flowers.

Ellie almost keeled over and died when one day she was having a particularly violent coughing fit, forcing her to stay in from class. When she looked down into the her tissue and she saw a few pieces of…something? Little pieces of something pink and white, a bit withered. she flinched, throwing the napkin on her coffee table.

At first, it looked like she’d coughed up a peace of her fucking lungs. She wasn’t sure who to call, her dad? 911? Fucking poison control? She wasn’t even sure that it was even possible to cough up an entire piece of her body.

After a few moments, she figured she had to further inspect the foreign objects to figure out just what it was that had exited her body. She reached down with shaky hands, her eyebrows furrowed with concern, picked up the tissue and opened it up.

She squinted her eyes a bit as she looked down at the little things, trying to figure out what the fuck could leave a persons body that looks like it. Her eyes went wide when she touched it, realizing what they were.

Flower petals.

Ellie thought she might’ve been hallucinating at first. Maybe she took an edible and forgot or something, or maybe the cough medicine was making her trip balls, because flower petals? There’s no fucking way, right?

Apparently she was wrong. There was a way, and a quick google search was filled with something that Ellie didn’t want to find.

All she had to do that night, was look up her symptoms, and she was finally faced with why her lingering cough had been so lingering, and what had caused it.

Hanahaki disease.

It was an illness that affected those with a broken heart, those who experienced unrequited love, which resulted in a painful cough that brought up a never ending supply of flower petals. It would explain the constant lingering taste of perfume that Ellie had suddenly found was impossible to get out of her mouth, and it would explain the fact that this so called ‘cold’ of hers that she had wouldn’t go away, and only had a cough with no other symptoms.

It made Ellie realize, that the night that all of this started, was the night that you told her you’d found somebody else, and it suddenly made so much sense.

Ellie was coughing up fucking flowers, because you didn’t love her.

After finding out what it was that she was diagnosed with, the second step was to find a cure, which she found to be much harder than finding the disease itself.

Finding a cure only came with various medical articles of people who had suffered from the same disease that she was suffering from. All people experiencing the same pain and heartache that she’d been carrying for so long.

All of which, had died.

Each and every other person who had this disease, had passed away from the disease, ultimately dying from a lack of love from the person they wanted.

This scared Ellie.

However, recent study had shown a new surgery that was available with those who suffered from the disease. One that would remove the flowers from the lungs and stop the cough entirely.

But it would also remove any and all feelings that the person with the disease had for the person they loved.

So, Ellie had two choices. Either she let the disease linger until she fucking died, or she could get the surgery, live, and never have you in her life again, not like before at least.

She had a big decision to make.

That night, Ellie cried. She curled up in a little ball in her bed, her pillow pressed against her face as she muffled out her noises, and she cried. She was in pain, and she was hurting, and she wanted it all to go away.

She wished you’d love her, she wished you would’ve just noticed how much she wanted you, how she was the right one for you all this time. It made her angry, and confused and annoyed, because what did she do to deserve this? To deserve this godforsaken illness that she had never fucking asked for.

And as she cried, and screamed and groaned out for the pain to go away, she heard her phone go off. She grabbed it, a soft sniffle leaving her nose as her tear filled eyes stared up at the bright screen of her phone.

It was you.

Loser!!! I rlly hope you didn’t forget to come and get me

I’m sleeping over tonight remember???

Come and get me soon hehe :p miss u

And although Ellie was in pain, and her heart was hurting. She’d never, ever say no to you.

She could live with the cough for a little bit longer, as long as it meant she got to be with you.

Ellie was only getting worse.

Months had gone by, and before she knew it, it had almost been a year with this goddamn disease that she had.

Her doctor had put her on some medication, which basically suppressed the cough only slightly. She still experienced handfuls of flower petals hacking up her throat every time she coughed. He urged her to get the surgery, telling her that without it, her condition could become life threatening.

But she couldn’t. She needed more time with you.

That’s the deal she had made with herself. She would get the surgery after she’d had enough time with you, allowing herself to make lasting memories with you when soon, she’d feel nothing for you at all.

But it was never enough time.

She wanted you always. Day, night, morning, evening, whatever the time she wanted you.

And things were fine. She had hoped you didn’t notice her health slowly deteriorating, she’d hoped you didn’t notice the bags under her eyes or the way the color had been sucked from her skin. You never questioned it, so she hoped that was all true.

She ignored the girl you’d met. After that night in her car, you and that girl never separated. You tried telling Ellie about it from time to time, and Ellie had even met her a few times. Her name was Jen, and she was the furthest fucking thing from Ellie, which only further solidified how unrequited her love was.

It hurt, because Jen was great. She was so kind, and beautiful, and she clearly treated you the way Ellie knew you needed to be treated. Ellie wished she could’ve hated her, she wished she was a shit girlfriend so that she could talk you out of being with her.

But she couldn’t, because Jen was perfect for you.

Ellie ignored it all, treating the times that she had with you as if it was only you and her in the world. She always had, but now it was different, now it was pretty crucial that she had these moments with you, even if you didn’t know the half of it.

You never pulled away, or became distant due to the new aspect of your life that was your relationship. You made time for everyone in your family, and you made time for Ellie. It was all too perfect, the way you handled it all. You never abandoned her, or made her feel left out.

Your friendship had never changed with Ellie, it stayed the same throughout everything.

But her condition was getting harder and harder to hide. She had to constantly rush to the bathroom when she felt the burning in her lungs, and the smell of flowers fill her nose and her mouth, muffling her coughs with a towel. She had gone from coughing up a few petals to what could only be described as an entire fucking bouquet.

It was hard, having to hide it from you. She knew that if there was anyone that could help her through this, through one of the hardest and most painful times of her life, it was you. You would’ve been there by her side, staying up every night that she was having coughing fits to help her, nursing her back to health. You always had, whenever she was sick, you were there, playing nurse while Ellie groaned and pouted for you. She became so needy when she was ill.

But she couldn’t, not when you were the one that caused this.

She knew you’d drop everything for her, and abandon everyone else for a lost cause, because no matter how much medicine you gave her, no matter how much you held her in her sleep, the disease that plagued Ellie had no cure that you could bring.

Other than loving her back.

Ellie sighed softly as she walked through the door of her apartment, pushing her headphones off of her head and letting them rest on her neck. The weather was finally warming up, and she could only hope that the warmth would treat her cough a bit kinder than the cold did, which she knew deep down was merely wishful thinking.

She meant to text you that week, having not heard from you in a bit, which was very unlike you.

She bent down, picking up the mail that laid on her entrance way mat, sifting through the bills and various envelopes that had her name on it. She was quick to toss them to the side, perfectly fine with waiting until she had the energy to read them all properly.

But she stopped when she saw a pretty, powder pink envelope with your writing on the front, her name written out so perfectly.

Why the hell were you sending her a letter?

A nasty cough rattled through her chest, and she almost laughed because it had gotten to a point where any mention of, even in the confides of her own mind, brought on a coughing fit these days. Even the sight of your writing made the ugly sound rake through her lungs.

Pathetic.

She sighed softly, moving to her couch and tossing her backpack to the side. She sat down, ring clad fingers turning the envelope around to tear it open.

The paper inside is thick, it feels expensive, like those fancy cards you get for birthdays from old people that don’t know any better but to buy their grandkids the best shit.

It has little embroidery’s on the edges, and it’s lined with the smallest strip of silver. It’s all written in cursive, and her eyes scan over it for a moment, eyebrows furrowed at whatever the fuck it was that you had randomly sent her in the mail.

But her heart is stopping, and her eyes are going wide once they finally focus on the bigger words at the top.

It’s a wedding invitation.

It’s your wedding invitation.

In her hands, Ellie was holding yours and Jen’s wedding invitation.

And she suddenly can’t breathe. There’s a burning in her chest, and she’s faced with the most intense coughing fit she’s experienced in her entire fucking life. It doesn’t stop, and it isn’t even giving her a chance to breath. She can feel her lungs shaking at how violent it is, and she suddenly throws the invitation down and she’s rushing to the bathroom, hunching over the toilet where her coughing turns into vomiting.

Her vision is blurred with tears, but she can make out the image of the familiar petals filling up the bowl, rattling through her body and making it hard to breath. She’s choking, and crying, and heaving, and it’s the worst thing she’s felt in her entire life.

She feels like it won’t end, like she’ll die right then and there, but she doesn’t. It stops, and she’s left sobbing as she falls back, her back hitting the bathroom wall, knees coming up as she holds herself, her sobs and cries bouncing off the bathroom walls, loud enough to surly be heard throughout her entire floor.

It’s that night, the night where she received your wedding invitation, that Ellie scheduled the surgery date, because she can’t do this anymore.

She needs to let you go.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

[foldingfittedsheets]

Come with me now on another story adventure.

Some types of hardship do start to feel like curses if they happen often enough. One thing I’ve experienced a lot- or at least enough to posit a curse- is my apartments flooding.

I’ve had flooding in three separate apartments I’ve lived in.

The place I lived with Betty flooded due to a massive rainstorm and poor placement on a downhill slope. Betty’s room was more effected than mine, but due to poor handling by the management it resulted in some rampant black mold and my eventual falling out with Betty as we broke the lease to escape.

My first flooding though. Happened when I lived in a third floor apartment. How, you might ask, is that possible?

Oh, Reader. Prepare yourself.

Now, I need to set the stage. Because you see, I shared this apartment with the last boy I’d ever date. For the purposes of this story let’s call him Connor. We’d known going into the relationship that I had a predilection for pussy but it finally clicked that I was just not attracted to men.

This was particularly devastating because I still loved that boy with all my heart but neither of us were getting what we needed out of the relationship. Suffice it to say, the atmosphere in the apartment in which he was sleeping on the couch was A BUMMER.

We were both sick, probably from stress, and had bad coughs. It was the night before midterms.

I was tucked up into bed, with little kitten Leeloo, ready to get to sleep. It was about 10pm. Connor knocked and poked his head into the room.

“It’s raining in the bathroom,” he said.

I got out of my comfy bed, and joined him in the bathroom. Raining was an exaggeration but there was definitely water dripping down the door jam and pooling up under the paint.

“That’s not good.”

We both stared at this problem together, sick and sad.

Finally, I suggested, “Go see if the upstairs neighbor left a faucet on. I’ll try to call maintenance.”

He left and I started making calls. At 10pm it was understandable that I was getting a lot of voicemails. Two maintenance lines deep, Connor returned.

“The people above us are getting drops too, and the place above that won’t respond.”

Four defunct numbers later, I finally got ahold of an emergency maintenance guy who was on call. “It’s raining in our bathroom.”

He was befuddled and said he’d be in soon.

That was about when it really actually started raining. Drips began pouring out of light fixtures. Terrified, we turned off the lights we could, setting out bowls and towels to mitigate water damage. Water dripped from several lights and started pooling ominously in the long flat kitchen light.

The maintenance man arrived around midnight. There was bowls and buckets littering the ground as Connor and I watched in abject misery as water filled them. The maintenance man was wildly out of his depth, having been left in sole charge while the entire rest of the staff was on vacation.

As we spoke to him, the water infiltrated our smoke alarm which began screaming in earnest at this wet invasion. The maintenance man promised to try to see what was causing the issue and fled. Connor and I regarded each other. We coughed, sick and exhausted, then went to empty the water buckets.

An hour passed. The smoke alarm persisted, it’s three shrill screeches pounded relentlessly into our ear drums. We stopped existing as individuals and became vessels of suffering. The paint in the bathroom started sloughing off the wall in wet ripples.

Connor tried to rouse the neighbor again and returned unsuccessful.

The maintenance man returned. It was 1am. He couldn’t get ahold of the apartment causing the flooding. He couldn’t get ahold of his bosses. After the update he made to leave and we begged him, please, just make the beeping stop, please. It can rain inside, and I can get no sleep the night before midterms, and I can cough miserably all night while I empty water bowls, but please, god, please, just make the beeping stop.

He promised to try and left. At some point around then, the flat kitchen light shattered under the pressure and gushed out a fall of water. Connor and I gave a bleak half hearted startle and tried to scrounge up more towels.

I started slipping into madness. The unceasing blaring beeps. The rain. The misery of being in this wretched situation with someone I used to be able to reach toward for comfort who I couldn’t anymore. This was hell, I decided. This circumstance fits into how they torture people, and I live here in this torturescape now. The maintenance man was never coming back.

The maintenance man came back with a ladder eventually.

Connor and I watched with blank hungry eyes as he fussed with the alarm and at 2am it finally ceased its shrieking klaxon of madness. I cried. The man left again. We emptied the bowls.

And finally, half an hour later, the rain began to abate. The maintenance man returned to inform us that he’d entered the upstairs unit.

Someone had become incapacitated and left their bath running. He was not at liberty to disclose what happened so presumably someone was sauced out of their gourd and fell into a deep stupor such that several hours of sustained door pounding couldn’t rouse them.

People all down the row flooded, and he looked near tears himself. We thanked him and went to collapse into bed. Neither of us took midterms the next day.

Connor and I are still friends to this day, even after a night fit to drive someone mad.

My last event of apartment flooding was a sewer main getting blocked. It was when my betrothed and I had just started dating and they were hanging out at my place while I was at work. Due to this good fortune, they were able to move my couch, entertainment system, and electronics out of the path of the flood.

It took a week and some extremely pointed emails to get the landlord to comp me rent for the week I couldn’t live there and the entire time I was just thankful I wasn’t stuck with water dripping from my lights while a fire alarm drove me to the brink of madness.

#ramblies #storytime #funny #funny story #writing #honestly just have some schadenfreude #cause it’s fucking funny now to look back on it #ffs foibles #curse #raining #flooding

[harringtown]

wrap me up in all your—

still not over that obscure friends to lovers prompt list so I did number 30 w Eddie!!!!

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: everyone forgets Eddie’s birthday except the reader (aka a cupcake, a joint, a gift, and a confession or two)

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cursing and weed/smoking mention

-

The trailer park is quiet. The autumn chill has settled over town like a blanket, unearthing winter jackets and beanies from closets and marking every breath with a plume of white air.

Eddie sits beside you on his front porch, and though the light swinging overhead flickers every few seconds, and the wooden stairs are halfway to rotted, it’s his favorite place in the world.

Anywhere that has you in it is his favorite place in the world.

He’d like to blame that sappy sentiment on the joint you surprised him with an hour ago and have been passing back and forth, but if he’s honest, Eddie feels that way sober.

You make him feel and think all that sappy shit he was sure only existed in movies.

You showed up, with a dorky birthday hat and a joint sticking out of a cupcake, and Eddie instantly felt high.  And so, even though his day started at crappy and only got worse from there, it’s looking to have a decent ending.

As far as birthdays go, this certainly isn’t the worst. It’s almost better that everyone forgot. No last-minute, hasty gifts or the off-key singing of some waitress and his uncle.

It doesn’t even matter that everyone else forgot. Because you didn’t.

“I got you a present,” you say eventually, jabbing out the last burning embers of the roach and tossing the filter into the tiny pile at the bottom of the steps. Other filters from other nights smoking on this porch, the best of them with you.

“I thought we just smoked the present,” Eddie says.

You snort a laugh and bump Eddie’s shoulder with your own.

“No, that was the candle,” you say. “It would have been better if you rolled it. You’ve got magic hands.” You lift your arms and do jazz hands, making Eddie laugh, and then cough, which makes you laugh, too. Then you’re just two high idiots giggling on a crumbling porch, but Eddie is happier than he has been in a long time.

“Not everyone has the magic touch,” Eddie says. He raises his own hands, and doesn’t miss the way your gaze falls and lingers on each finger, each ring and crooked knuckle and calloused fingertip. Eddie drops his hands. “So. What’s this present you speak of? It better be damn good, after all you’ve hyped it up.”

“I did no hyping,” you accuse. You tear your gaze from Eddie’s and drop it to your lap, where you’re worrying the hem of your hoodie between your fingers. “And it probably isn’t that good—”

Eddie blames the weed on his sudden confidence. He takes your chin in one hand, forcing you to look at him, and he doesn’t realize how close you are on the porch until he almost smashes your nose with his own.

“Whatever it is, sweetheart,” he says, gentler than he intends, “I’m sure I’ll love it.” Your eyes dip, dip to his mouth, and now Eddie is looking at your lips, and he can’t stop.

He clears his throat and sits back. “You’ve never gone wrong before. Christmas ‘82?” He shrugs his shoulders and flashes you a lopsided grin. “Alright, yeah, you kind of screwed future you, there. How the hell do you follow thatup?”

You roll your eyes, but Eddie can tell you’re pleased. He’s known you so long that nonactions are actions, too.

“You and that damn guitar,” you say.

“What can I say? You did good, kid,” Eddie says. He bumps your shoulder again. “C’mon. Quit stalling. Let’s see it.”

You scrunch your nose. “Technically, there’s not really anything to see. I mean, I have a piece of paper, like a written agreement, but—”

“Earth to y/n,” Eddie says in a singsongy voice, though honestly, he’d be content to watch you talk about nothing for hours.

You nod a few times. Clear your throat. Don’t look at him as you say, “I kind of… booked you a gig.”

And Eddie’s dry mouth becomes the Sahara desert.

“You—what?”

“And I don’t know if I’d really call it a gig. More of an… audition? That fancy new club, The Tunnel, is looking for a local band to play Friday nights, and they want something different, so I played them one of your tapes. The manager liked it. He said if you do well at the show in a few weeks, you could be in there every friday night—”

“Are you serious?” Eddie asks.

You stop. Meet his eyes. “Of course I’m serious.”

“Holy shit.” Eddie pushes off the porch steps, onto the dirt below, and shakes his head. “Holy shit.” He wraps his arms around his torso and turns to you, shaking his head again. “Are you serious?”

You laugh, and say, “For the second time, yeah, I’m serious.” You swipe at your nose and sniffle. “Not that your usual joint isn’t great, but I figured, maybe you and the guys wanted to change it up a bit¸—”

And Eddie can’t hold back anymore. He rushes you, throwing his arms around your waist, knees digging into the step below you, burying his face in your neck.

You laugh again, and hug him back, and when you dip your face against his, your cool lips graze his temples. His stomach lurches, and his pulse sings, and yeah, he’s definitely high, but it’s most certainly not all from the weed.

All his reservations fall away. Fall apart. Never fucking existed at all, and he’s just been kiding himself.

Eddie pulls back to look at you.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he says. “I love you.”

You let out a little laugh. “I love you, too, dude.”

He shakes his head. Peels himself away from you and drops onto the step beside you. “No. I mean, I love you. I’m in love with you. And I have been since we were sixteen. I was doing a pretty good job of not doing anything about it, trying to maintain the friendship and all that, but then you show up here, and you tell me you booked my band a gig—”

“Technically not a gig!”

“—a gig,” Eddie says. “And suddenly, I don’t give a shit about maintaining anything. So, thanks for that. And I love you. I really fucking love you. Sorry if that screws things up.”

For a long second, you just look at him, and Eddie thinks he could die right there on that porch—which is ironic, considering he kind of almost did, if the grass near this porch in a parallel universe counts.

“Do you have any idea,” you ask, “how long I’ve been waiting for you to admit that?”

Eddie jerks back. “What are you—you knew?”

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and look away, a sheepish smile on your face.

“I mean, of course I knew,” you say. “I’ve known you since we were ten. I know you. But time went on, and you still never said anything, and I wasn’t sure if I was wrong, or if you just had no goddamn clue how you felt, and then—“

“And how do you feel?” Eddie asks.

Your smile shifts. It shines like a thousand stars, brighter than anything in the night sky.

“I really fucking love you too,” you say. And then you kiss him, and you taste like frosting and weed and a thousand future kisses.

Eddie ends it sooner than he’d like—if he doesn’t, he’ll do something non-gentlemanly things on his porch, and he’s really trying to be a gentleman—and you drop your head onto his shoulder. You lace your fingers through his, fiddling with his rings with your free hand.

Sometime later, you lift your head, and say, “You never told me your wish.”

The cupcake with the joint. You instructed him to make a birthday wish on the first hit.

Eddie averts his gaze, swiping the hair from his eyes.

“My wish?” He shrugs. Meets your eyes. “You know the rules. Secret.” He draws his fingers across his lips and mimics throwing away a key.

You roll your eyes. “Humor me.”

Eddie inclines his head and considers a moment.

“You really want to know?”

“I want to know everything in that head,” you say, lifting two fingers to his temples.

Eddie knows he’s smiling like a dork, but he doesn’t care.

“It was you,” he says. “It’s always you.”

You press your lips together, but a smile tugs them up. You wind your arms around his neck and dip your forehead against him.

“Well,” you say softly. “You’ve got me. Time to find a new wish.”

“I’ll figure it out later,” he says. “Now, I just really want to kiss you again. You cool with that?”

You laugh, and say, “Yeah, I’m cool with that.”

Then you kiss him again.

And Eddie thinks this might be the best birthday he’s ever had.

-

taglist (join here!): @milkiane​ @robiin-buckley​ @copycatkillerfics​  @robinbuckleyssgf​ @isshecrazyorissheclever

#brooke writes fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #Eddie munson au #Eddie munson imagine #x reader

[0h0possum]

A Codywan and How to Train Your Dragon crossover that turned into a the Mandalorians factions are dragons AU, because I can never just do something simple and for the heck of it.

If you’re not interested the AU lore, leave now or suffer my rambling lol.

Basically, the idea is that Mandalorians started as a race that could shift into dragons. The Mand’alor line and those of most influence were notably ‘Fury’s (for example Mand’alor Tarre Viszla was a Nightfury and so is his generational line). But over time most Mandolorians who could shift were killed off or just lost the ability as more non-shifter Mandolorians married in. Eventually only a few of the Fury’s were around, and when Mandalore split most chose factions lead by the remaining Fury lines. AKA: the New Mandalorians/Lightfury’s, the Haat Mando'ade or True Mandalorians/Duskfury’s, and the Kyr’tsad or Death Watch/Nightfury’s.

Basically this also helps explain (in my head) why Mandalorians would follow Death Watch (terrorists) or the New Mandalorians (Intense Pacifist). It’s because they see those lines that can still shift as chosen leaders or a physical embodiment of the Ka’ra’s will.

How is Obi-Wan a shifter though? Well in this AU he’s the son of Tor Viszla. Long story short, early on when Obi-Wan was born he displayed being force sensitive, and Obi-WAN’s mom (Tor’s wife??? Idk it’s not important to the story) basically went ‘Aw hell naw’ and tried to drown Obi-Wan. Only to be stopped by a traveling Jedi who stole Obi-Wan and saved him. Totally unaware that this baby was Mandalorian, the son one of the biggest Mandalorian factions, AND also one of the last few existing Mandalorian dragon shifters. (Also Obi-Wan’s mom doesn’t want to admit that she lost Obi-Wan to a Jedi and just tells Tor that he was force sensitive and she succeeded in drowning him).

Maybe I’ll get into it later but basically Obi-Wan grows up as normal in the Temple, but obviously at some point he shifts and has the biggest panic of his life. But with help from friends (Quinlan, Garen, Siri, and Bant) he figures out shifting (enough to control it) and helps keep it a secret (Mandalorians and Jedi still don’t have best relations and Obi-Wan is paranoid about being kicked out of the Order anyways *cough cough Brandomeer cough cough Melinda/Daan*). To be clear, Obi-Wan isn’t like ashamed of what he is. He just doesn’t want the judgments of coming from CLEAR Mandalorian roots, and Death Watch at that. Plus he kinda just decides to not think about how he’s pretty much definitely related to well known terrorist Tar and Pre Viszla, because then he doesn’t have to address it. Besides he’s happy as a Jedi.

Anyways, NOW CODY-

So without getting to detailed (mission failed lol) all the clones ARE shifters (Duskfury’s just like Jango Fett), but they have it suppressed by the Kaminoans (probably part of their chips? I haven’t thought it fully out yet). BUT THINGS HAPPEN, probably Cody and Obi-Wan get stranded alone somewhere for a long time and Cody gets his chipped fucked up somehow, and now he’s shifting into a dragon???? And scaring the shit out of both him and Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan exposes himself as a dragon shifter as well to comfort Cody and show that he will keep his secret. Plus he clearly understands him. (At this point they both are under the impression the clones aren’t shifters, and think Cody is just an outlier and “late bloomer” so to speak). Cue them learning how to be dragons together and be comfortable in their other form.

And eventually they get rescued and find out somehow all the clones are shifters, and therefore find the chips and discover Palpatine’s plan, SO THE GALAXY IS SAVED!

(Additionally the clones get rights and go to form their own society/group (Obi-Wan comes with to be with other dragons, but mostly to be with Cody), and they form an alliance with the New Mandalorians and accidentally unit Mandalore purely by the three Fury types (Nightfury/Obi-Wan, Duskfury/Cody, Lightfury/Satine) being around each other lol.

#star wars #sw tcw #starwars au #star wars the clone wars #obi wan kenobi #tcw commander cody #commander cody #httyd #httyd au #tcw au #the clone wars au #the clone wars #nighfury #Lightfury #duskfury #dragon shifter #starwars httyd crossover? #codywan #codywan au #dragon obi wan kenobi #Dragon commander cody #How do i even tag this absolute hyper-fixation nonsense? #satine kryze #I have to post stuff of my random starwars AU ideas so i may purge them from my body and finally be free #I FUCKING SPELLED SATINE AS SATIN WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME #No one comment on how dumb the name Duskfury is or I will cry I swear #mandalorian dragons au

[raz-writes-the-thing]

The Way You Look Tonight (Good Omens Drabble)

Crowley x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: You might be sick, but you'll be damned if you don't get this dance.

GOMENS: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @florduarte @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @jaziona92 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re just being dramatic,” Crowley grumbles, getting up anyway to do as you’ve requested. You’re sick. Like, really sick. 

Like, if-you’re-not-careful-you-might-drown-in-a-puddle-of-your-own-snot sick. It’s gross, yeah, but if a certain someone hadn’t left the air conditioner on, like, minus eight hundred degrees all night, you’d probably be fine now. Yes, that person was you, but if you couldn’t blame the imaginary criminal who takes on all your heinous crimes for you then what was the point of it all?

“Which one?” Crowley asked, flashing two records at you to choose from. You coughed into your tee and scrutinised the options harshly. 

“Sinatra,” you eventually replied before blowing your nose into a soft aloe tissue. “Please,” you added hastily. 

Crowley just grumbled quietly as he put the record on for you. As soon as the notes started to play through the room, you sighed with relief. It was like a balm on your chest, making you feel better with just a few words and some pretty sounds. 

That wasn’t to say it made you feel physically better, but mentally- the chords and keys and tones had an uplifting effect. As though you might not actually die here on this lounge today. 

“Dunno why you even listen to this,” Crowley said, giving the very old record player the hairy eyeball. You rolled your eyes and stood up. You quickly used the hand sanitiser and gestured for him to meet you in the middle of the room. 

“Dance with me,” you offered in answer. Crowley looked suspicious but took your arm and waist as instructed. You swallowed a sneeze and gave Crowley a very sheepish smile as an apology. Crowley’s hands felt so warm where they touched you, and you found yourself realising just how much you craved his touch and attention. 

The two of you swayed together, listening to Frank as he sang about love and heartbreak and all the things in between. You also realised that at some point, you’d closed your eyes, letting the music surround you. 

When you opened them, Crowley was peering at you in a completely awed expression. One he was clearly trying to hide but doing a terrible job at. 

“What?” You asked, feeling shy all of a sudden. You weren’t so used to being perceived this… obviously. Crowley stumbled over his words for a moment, a litany of strange noises escaping him. 

“No, no,” he deflected. “I just- I get it now, all right? No- don’t get sappy on me,” he scowled. “Stop it or I’ll stop this dance right now.” 

You still couldn’t hide the massive grin on your face even if you tried. 

He didn’t stop dancing with you, though.

#good omens #gomens #crowley #crowley x reader #crowley good omens #one shot #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #good omens fanfiction #fanfiction #crowley smut #david tennant #crowley gomens #crowley x y/n #crowley x you #crowley x reaader #good omens fluff #gomens fluff

[blue-jisungs]

medicine

a/n. i promised myself to focus on the events and only post them but since i’m in a good mood today, here’s a small self indulgent thing i wrote yesterday at 3am :^)

warnings. reader is sick, a bit of language barrier + messily written n not proof read (i’ll regret that later)

it came off extremely weird to chan that suddenly you called him to inform about your business trip. “i’ll be gone for five days, maybe a week… sorry i’m letting you know just now but i found out like, an hour ago” was what you said two days ago, throwing a little ‘i love you’ and hanging up.

besides that you didn’t even go and see him to say goodbye before you left. he would lie if he said he wasn’t offended but, maybe it was urgent… besides, he’ll get lots of kisses once you’re back, right?

wanting to surprise you and help you a bit, chan decided to go and clean up your place. if you left in a rush, there was probably a mess. huge mess, knowing you. he also missed you so he thought while he’s at it, he’ll steal a hoodie or two of yours. just so smell your scent…

but was be surprised when he walked into your place, keys in his hand, a cough echoing from your bedroom. chan frowned, closing the door and walked towards the source of the noise.

and his heart skipped a beat, shock washing over him. you were curled up on your bed, laying under two blankets and warm pair of socks on your feet. painful cough ripping from your throat as you tried to reach for the glass with water.

“y/n? what are you doing here?” he asked as if he wasn’t the one who walked into your place without you knowing. when you turned around, his heart clenched.

glossy and puffy eyes, nose all red due to constant blowing and pressing tissues, flushed cheeks and tear stains adorning them.

you mumbled something incoherent, plopping down onto your bed again. chan hurriedly walked over tho you, putting his hand on your forehead.

“oh my god, you’re burning up! did you take some medicine? how long have you been sick?” he asked, grabbing your hand with his free one. you sniff, looking away in embarrassment. but chan isn’t having any of it, stern yet concerned look on his face “y/n.”

you sigh and try to sit. chan helps you, placing a pillow behind your back before you rest it against the headboard. he sits down at the edge of the bed, both hands grabbing yours and ebony eyes looking at you in anticipation.

“well, there’s no business trip. i got sick and–“ you cough, covering your mouth with your elbow. chan sighs, looking at all the tissues laying in the floor. once the attack stops, you groan “i didn’t want you to get sick too… and other reasons”

the last part is mumbled so quietly, he almost didn’t hear it. but he did, which resulted in him frowning.

“is it about me seeing you like this? y/n, we’ve been dating for three years now… it is weird i haven’t you sick before but trust me, i lived with seven other guys for the last few years of my life. i’ve seen a lot” he giggled, a smile tugging at your lips too

“well this too but also…” you trail off, this time he didn’t understand a word you said.

“what?” chan huffed, squeezing your hand encouragingly. you sigh and look down.

“well… i didn’t understand the meds descriptions and i was too scared i’ll mix them up” you murmured, cheeks turning even more read. even though you’ve been living in korea for three years, the medical language still leaves you clueless.

“oh baby” chan grunted, hands moving to cup your cheeks “you should have called me”

“i know i just… didn’t want to bother you. and then i was too exhausted to look it up, my eyes watering after mere seconds of looking at my phone. i thought it would go away eventually…” you explained quietly, finally looking at him.

and his features are nothing but soft. as much as chan would love to gush about how cute you are, he knows he has a task ahead.

so he gathered all the medicine available in your house, quickly making you some hot soup and warm water with honey to ease your throat pain.

once you’ve eaten and took a quick nap, chan is sitting next to you and explaining slowly each medication and what is it for. occasionally looking up at you with loving eyes, he makes a mental note to write it all down later and put it in the medicine container.

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang

#skz #skz fluff #stray kids #stray kids fluff #bangchan #bangchan fluff #bangchan x you #bangchan x y/n #bangchan x reader #bangchan skz #bangchan imagines #bangchan scenarios #bangchan drabbles #skz drabble #skz boyfriend #skz imagines #skz soft hours

[jacksfandomrandom]

~Sick days~

Summary: Vaggie is sick and tried to hide it from Charlie but her girlfriend is way too caring for that.

warning: vaggie does throw up in this fic, so if you aren't comfortable with that, click off.

Vaggie had woken up that day feeling restless and sore. Right off the bat, she could tell that it was going to be a shitty day. She rolled over to the side so she and Charlie could have morning cuddles but found the bed lacking a certain hellborn. Sitting up, she checked the time, wondering if she had just gotten up early or if she slept late. It was 9:30. Shit, she was late. Charlie never had the courage to wake up her sleeping beauty.

Vaggie quickly sprung out of bed but right away regretted it because she got extremely dizzy and nauseous and she developed a headache. She shook it off and started to get dressed.

When she got downstairs, she saw that Charlie and the rest of the group were already starting on activities. They were doing some sort of ice breaker activity.

“Hey Vaggie, Glad you could join us!” Charlie greeted her, “Did you have breakfast yet?”

Vaggie shook her head, “I’m not hungry,”

“Okay… but please eat something,” She held up a few pieces of fruit that she had for the whole group to enjoy. Vaggie nervously took a few and consumed them.'

During the whole activity, she felt herself get worse and worse. Halfway through, she almost fell asleep because of how tired she was. She got barely any sleep during the night because of how bad her nose was stuffed.

She was half conscious a little while later when she felt someone tap her shoulder. She looked up and saw that it was Charlie.

“You okay, Hon? It’s break time," she said. Vaggie yawned before slowly standing up.an itch in her throat caught her off guard and she fell into a coughing fit. Charlie was by her side, rubbing her back and telling her that it was okay.

“I’m fine,” She answered, clearing her throat.

“Are you sure? Maybe you should lie down,” she suggested. Vaggie tensed. If she were to find out that she was sick, Charlie would probably take the day off to take care of her. Although she would do anything for that to happen, she couldn't show weakness. it made her feel guilty to make others worry about her.

“No, really, I’m fine, I’ll get the next activity ready,” She said before trotting off to the kitchen. They would be cooking together as a bonding activity. 

Charlie wanted to rebut, however, Vaggie escaped the conversation before she could say anything. She was really worried for her. She could tell that her girlfriend was hiding something.

During their break, Charlie joined Vaggie in the kitchen. She saw how she struggled to clean the area and get everything ready. She could barely lift up a box and she stopped and started panting. As if she were in pain.

“Shit, Vaggie, be careful!” Charlie went to grab the box out of her hands.

“I- I’m fine..” Vaggie said before she began to sway. Everything hurt. Lifting that box up didn't do any good and made everything worse. 

She covered her mouth, before turning to the side, away from Charlie and the box, and spilled the bits of fruit. She coughed, and Charlie could tell she had tears running down her eyes

“It's okay, sweetie, you're alright,” Charlie rubbed her back as more bile started to come out of her mouth.

Vaggie was beyond embarrassed. Here was Charlie, trying to comfort her throwing up girlfriend while she was just trying to work.

“I'm *cough* sorry,” Vaggie choked out before heaving. Her headache got insanely bad and she started to feel like she was about to pass out.

“No, Vaggie, don't be sorry, you can’t control it,” Charlie continued to rub her back and then pressed a kiss to her head.

After her body seemed content and satisfied, she collapsed into Charlies arms, her vision fading to black.

When she eventually regained consciousness, she found herself in her and Charlie's shared king sized bed. It was really comfortable and she wanted to go back to sleep but Charlie immediately noticed she had woken up.

“Vaggie!” She hugged her tightly, “I didn't think you'd wake up! You were running a high fever after you passed out,” 

“Is that why my skin feels really salty?” She tried cracking a joke. It felt like she had sweated an ocean but then chilled down in a freezer. 

“Yeah, I need to change out your ice pack too,” Charlie reached up and grabbed Vaggies ice pack from her forehead. The sickee couldn't feel it because it had gone warm and she had a bad headache.

As Charlie replaced the ice pack, Vaggie felt really guilty. she shouldn't be making her worry this much about her. Vaggie was usually the protector, the guardian, the reliable one, not the other way around. She's not used to being treated like this. It actually felt kind of nice. But the guilt out-weighed the nice feeling.

“Char, I’m sorry I’m making you take care of me, I’m fine and i shouldn;t be taking up your time,” She confessed. Charlie looked at her with a flabbergasted expression.

“Babe, don’t you ever say sorry for me taking care of you. I get that you’re usually the one who is protective and strong, but you can be vulnerable every now and then. You can let other people take care of you, you don’t have to be the reliable one all the time,” counseled Charlie. She took Vaggies hand.

“O-okay, I’ll try…” Vaggie sniffled. She knew it’d be hard to start letting people see her vulnerable but she knew it’d help their relationship. Charlie hugged her again but pulled away when she heard Vaggie wince. Her stomach still hadn’t fully stopped hurting, even though she was completely empty.

“Sorry, sorry, is your tummy still bothering you?” vaggie nodded.

“Do you think you can stomach some soup? You need to eat something, especially since you haven’t eaten anything today,” She suggested. Vaggie shrugged but agreed that she should probably eat something. So she let Charlie heat up some soup for her.

When she returned with the piping hot soup, she insisted that she fed her. Even though it was pretty embarrassing for Vaggie, she couldn't help but feel a sense of love in it. Maybe being vulnerable around your loved ones was great. 

She managed to finish the whole bowl of soup before Charlie decided she should get some more rest. However, Vaggie didn’t want to be alone. She asked if Charlie would stay with her while she slept and luckily, she did. Charlie made sure she was extra comfy in bed before cuddling up next to her. She kissed her goodnight before throwing an arm over her, spooning Vaggie. The day wasn’t the best, but if it ended with Vaggie and Charlie cuddling, than the day would be okay.

#sickfic #hazbin hotel #charlie x vaggie #chaggie #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel charlie #hurt/comfort #sick character #tw: vomit #hazbin hotel fanfic #fanfiction

[syndxlla]

best friends don’t look at each other the way we do

A low stakes, high reward and self-indulgent Zelink fanfic. Canon-compliant, takes place between BOTW and TOTK

Chapter Two: You’re Safe

Read Chapter one here

Song: Sick of Losing Soulmates by Dodie

Summary: Link introduces Zelda to their new home in Hateno, and Zelda begins to face the reality of what her life has developed into.

Warnings: PTSD, body-image, mentioning of scars, passing out

Word Count: 4.9k words

Author’s Note: This shit is so sad I promise its going to eventually get happy haha.

It’s late afternoon when they get to Hateno, just when the sun is starting to low hang in the sky. The gate is quiet, probably because it was their day of worship. Little kids who usually play tag on the main road were praying to the Goddess in their houses, and farmers who practically work in the field studied their devotionals in their kitchen. Link hopped off of Epona when they got into town, guiding her and Zelda through the back road, past the Bolson homes, and over the old wooden bridge to his house.

He leads his horse to the old stable, and then helps Zelda off of her by lifting her at the waist and gently placing her onto the ground. Zelda looks around at her bearings while Link removes the bridle and saddle from his steed, refilling her trough with some water from the well.

“Well… this is it.” He presents the building with his arms open, as if it were a mansion. Zelda doesn’t say much, she just observes the structure with her hands held together, arms bed at the elbow. He leads her through the front door, waving his hand around the dust and coughing once or twice. “I haven’t been home in a while.” He awkwardly smiles. It’s dark and dank there, so quaint. “It’s no palace, I know. But I could afford it, and I really needed a place to store all my extra junk.” Zelda walks up to the weapon displays, seeing the weapons of their dead friends. lined up one by one.

Link drops his equipment, placing the Master Sword on the table, which had nothing on it but a few knife cuts and a dead flower. He moves to open a window, which creaks loudly as he pushes, startling Zelda. “Sorry, sorry.” He sniffles. The window allows the light to pour in, the sun getting slightly golden. He turns to see her staring at the portrait of all the champions that Link hung not six months ago—when he was here last. He moves towards her, nervous and apologetic. She’s so hard to read.

“Look, I know it isn’t perfect. But it’s got a bed, a kitchen, and a bath, and we can clean it up.” He places a tentative hand on her bicep, standing behind her. She looks around. “If you really hate it, we can get a room at the Inn downtown, or we can go up to Purah and Symin’s-“

“It’s perfect, Link.” She stops him and turns around. They’re about the same height, so their eyes meet perfectly.

“What?” He was talking it up out of embarrassment, this place is a dump.

“It’s perfect. Anywhere is better than that throne room. And I wouldn’t want a castle, I’ll be happy here.” She smiles, and if Link didn’t know any better he would pull her in for a tight hug. He doesn’t think they’re that close yet.

“Really?” He asks. She nods.

“It needs some cleaning up, and as much as I love your tributes to the Champions, I think we should return these weapons to their people. I think we should give them a proper burial. Finally put those four to rest.” She explains, sounding like her old self again. “You and I will never move on if we coexist with these.” She admits, and Link agrees.

They stand quiet for a moment. The dust settles. “I‘ll draw a bath for you, if you would like.” He says. “I can start on some dinner, too.”

“That would be lovely.” Zelda smiles.

They have to catch a frog that was sitting in the wooden tub before Link starts bringing in water from the well, and as they chase the bugger, Zelda hears Link’s laugh for the first time in a hundred years. His real laugh, not a polite chuckle or a distant giggle as she watched over him from the Sanctum, but an actual, full-body laugh as he chased the frog. Her entire demeanor softens as she hears it, her heart racing. He rarely laughed when he served as her Knight, and it would always be because of something Mipha said. His laugh now sounded joyous, safe. She needed to hear it.

She looks at the warm bath, Link taking time to heat the water with coals underneath before she gets in. He goes to yank the screen closed, leaving behind a towel, and some soap made out of goat milk from the farm up the mountain. He explains to her that he’s gonna take care of some things outside of the house while she’s getting clean. That he won’t leave, but he’ll get out of the house so she has total privacy. He rambles about taking care of Epona and then picking some endura shrooms for dinner. With a toothy grin he teases about maybe finding a truffle.

“Just yell my name if you need anything and I’ll come running.” He says as he places some folded clean clothes on a stool for her. “Tomorrow we can go to the general store and get you some new clothes. For now you can wear these. The trousers might be a little big, but the shirt is from when I first woke up and I was a skinny little thing. The ghost of your dad actually gave it to me.” Link laughs, clearly happy to have a companion. “I’ve bulked up since then.” He jokingly flexes his bicep and Zelda giggles.

“Link-“ She tilts her head, almost scolding him.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” He leaves, and Zelda can’t stop smiling. He’s come out of his shell so much. A hundred years ago he never spoke, and mainly communicated through sign language. She wondered if he even remembered his signs. The two of them would speak frequently through them. He taught her the entire language, it took the full year they spent at each other's side, but by the time all the divine beasts were being piloted she was almost fluent. She misses that. Sometimes he would sign things to her as she stood behind her father, trying to make her laugh and get her in trouble. It worked one too many times.

And he really had bulked up, even from when she knew him first.

She shakes her head, reminding herself that she mustn't think like that. Not about her closest friend. She sighs, truly alone for the first time in a century.

She looks down at her hands, dirty and frail. She kicks her sandals off and her feet are so sensitive to every feeling. In fact, every part of her skin feels hyper-sensitive to every sensation. She takes a deep breath, she had forgotten what it was like to breathe in. She does it ten times. Zelda then touches the water with her hand, sighing at the feeling of it. She forgot what water even felt like.

The princess stretches, and then goes to take off the white goddess gown. She freezes, not being able to bring herself to do it. Her hands start to shake, and she frowns.

“Pull yourself together, Zelda.” She mumbles to herself. She then pulls the dress up over her head, dropping it to the ground and leaving herself naked. Along with the dress, she feels like she pulls off a piece of her identity. She was truly relieved and thankful the fight was over, especially because it felt like it would never end, but she’s terrified of what comes next. She wore that damned dress for one hundred and three years. And as easy as it went on, it came off. It came off along with her jewelry, the bracelets and necklace. She stands there in complete vulnerability, heart racing.

A lump forms in her throat and she pushes it down. Looking at the white rags on the ground. She carefully steps into the basin of water, gasping as she sits in it. It takes a moment for her to control her breathing. When she doesn’t, she sighs and settles into the water, her heart relaxing. She closes her eyes and then dunks her head underwater, letting all of her long hair get wet. She blows bubbles out of her nose, and runs her hands up and down her skin. She resurfaces, tilting her head back to keep the hair out of her face, and then wipes the water off of her eyes.

Baptism. She thinks. Washing away her sins, and restarting.

She cries exactly three tears. She isn’t sure if it’s because of relief or anxiety or exhaustion and excitement or all of the above.

She sits there for a long time, not moving. It feels good to be in the water, she feels comfortable and safe. She tries to bring herself to move but can’t, maybe her muscles were finally settling into exhaustion. She just sits there, not even really thinking, just existing quietly.

It was simultaneously silent and blaring loud all of the time inside of the trance-like-state she lived in while sealing away The Calamity. Her heart rate finally relaxes, and her eyes even droop for a moment. She has to repeatedly remind herself that she was safe. Maybe one day she would be able to believe that. The water started to get cool, and so she finally moved. It was nice to experience real peace for the first time maybe ever.

Zelda reaches for the bar of soap.

She scrubs away a century of dirt and grime, and it comes off with very little effort. The soap is soft, she appreciates that it came from the locals, and that Link had it at all. He isn’t half as put-together and tidy as he was when he served as her knight. His hair is longer, and it sticks out in all sorts of directions. He’s missing a chunk of cartilage from his right ear, and he’s more scarred, especially on his face. Zelda hopes that isn’t the result of carelessness, she couldn’t bear the thought of Link being put in danger even though he is the most capable person in all of Hyrule. But ever since he nearly died in her arms at Fort Hateno decades ago, she can’t stomach it. She watched in pain and disarray as he threw himself at every monster, every challenge, unfaltering and unafraid.

When she gets out of the bath, she starts to shiver, her body still not used to regulating its temperature again. Zelda quickly dries herself off and gets dressed. The clothes are even a little big on her, and more revealing in some places than she would have ever worn in her past life. She shrugs, and pulls the screen open.

Just as he had promised, he wasn’t in the house. She glanced around, taking in the surroundings even more, trying to get her bearings again. Link doesn’t have much, and what he does have looks mostly like junk. Zelda wasn’t sure how long she was going to be here, but her guess was a long time. It’s not like she has anywhere else to go anymore.

Knowing that Link won’t bother her until she goes looking for him, Zelda takes this as an opportunity to snoop. Not out of malice, but simply because she wants to know more about this new Link, and she’s too afraid to ask still. In her heart, he’s the same devoted and stoic Knight of few words, but she knows deep down that’s not who he is anymore.

In the corner of the room, there’s a work table, one with an old bow on it. She walks to it, examining the weapon. There’s a series of knots on the body of the bow, some Rito and some Gerudo. He seemed to be practicing on the bow, not using it for any combat. There’s a broken-up ruby on the desk, too. Zelda turns around, the front door is open, but she can’t see him. She continues her exploration.

The kitchen is lovely, nicer than anywhere else in the house. Clearly Link had spent some time fixing it up. There were dried herbs on the wall, and a few pieces of paper hanging up with recipes scribbled on them. His handwriting has not improved since she first knew him.

She notices all his different pairs of shoes by the door, he must store his extra clothes that he doesn’t use very often here. She’s never seen him in anything other than his Hylian boots, but here there were a pair of Shekiah sandals, Gerudo Voe slippers, and a pair of snow boots. His feet were big, she picked up one of the shoes, examining it. She noticed there was more wear and tear on the left shoes than the right, implying that he preferred his left side. She sets the shoe down and looks up the stairs to the loft. She peers out of the door again, making sure he wasn’t nearby. She didn’t want to invade his privacy, but couldn’t help her curiosity. Besides, Link has never been that private anyways.

Zelda creeps up the stairs, and when she gets to the top she nearly collapses. She does not have the strength for stairs yet. All there was in the loft was a single bed, it was a double size, though, and a dresser. On top of the dresser was a vase. It was full of flowers that Link had surely picked. All of them were beautiful still, and most importantly, all of them were silent princesses.

Zelda’s favorite flower. She swallows back a tear, walking to them. A few had wilted already, she wondered when he picked them. If he hadn’t been here in nearly a half a year, they couldn't have lasted that long. Or could they? She wasn’t sure. In her youth she never dared pick any because of how rare they were. Are they still so rare? Do they have prolonged longevity? Her mind started rising with questions, and her heart started racing out of excitement, the way science and asking questions used to make her feel. She picks them out of the vase, examining them in between her hands and even smelling one. The scent was diving, and she sighed as she exhaled.

She freezes after processing what the flowers were, what they could have stood for. Did he really collect all of these for her? She shakes the ridiculous idea out of her head. What a silly, schoolgirl thought to have. She sets the flowers back.

Zelda wastes no more time snooping, and instead decides to step outside. It was golden hour now, and the warm sun felt incredible on her skin. She took it in for a moment, savoring every single human moment she experiences because she never thought she would get them again.

She savors the feeling of the grass against her bare feet, wiggling her toes with joy. She can’t help the smile that grins across her face. Her skin tickles with it, the feeling still incredibly sensitive. She giggles a few times, and then turns around the house where the stable was, in search for her friend.

A shirtless, toned and sweaty Link tosses a bale of hay into a pile, lifting it high over his head with ease. His biceps flex as he tosses it, his skin slightly sun kissed from the work, and his hair somehow even more disheveled than before. He discarded his shirt on the fence, letting it hang out next to the undershirt he wore, and some chainmail. His chest glistens in the sun, sparkling from the light peppering of sweat over his pectorals. He’s scarred to high-heaven, old cuts and gashes healed with scar-tissue that stretched along his muscles.

Zelda’s face goes bright red when she sees him, immediately turning around to go back inside, but that’s when Link sees her.

“You’re finished!” He chimes cheerily, jogging over to her. She turns around slowly and painfully, her entire body tense because of the sight. Of course she had seen him shirtless, he was practically naked as the day he was born when he woke up in the Shrine of Resurrection, but she was watching him through lense that made it feel more detached, less real. And before the two of them were sealed away from the outside world, she had never even dreamed of seeing him in such a state. They were both too uptight with their titles. Oh how the times have changed. Even if she had seen him partially-nude, it was never this close, never this…detailed. She could smell him, the scent of hard work and horse-hair displayed in the most appealing aroma of a man she could think of. She makes a special effort to look at him directly in the eye, not daring to look anywhere else. The cherry on top? Link had no idea what he was doing to her.

“I-It was lovely,” She stutters over her words like a fool, She takes a shaken breath and then chooses to sign “Thank you.” She forces a smile, was he going to remember.

Link smiles wide and immediately signs back “You’re welcome, I’m happy you know how to sign, too!” And then he dropped it as fast as he picked it up, he used to rely on it so heavily but he doesn’t need it like he used to. He continues speaking verbally: “I’m glad! I’ll go drain the bath! Hudson and Bolson made this fancy contraption that dumps the gray water into a big ole bowl under the house!” He articulates with his hands, showing just how big the bowl really was. Zelda’s heart dropped a little, she was sad he didn’t remember that he was who taught her their special language. But at least he remembered.

She looks at him, pulled into his elaborate explanation of the water invention…his skin looked so soft, so inviting. “And then it drains into a monster camp down the hill! They drink it or something and everyone’s happy! It’s really quite clever, you know.” He smiles a wide, toothy grin. Zelda had never seen him get so excited about anything before the calamity. She was struggling not to fall apart out of embarrassment as he talked, though.

“Fascinating… I would like t-to see it.” She smiled politely, hoping she doesn’t look as foolish as she feels. “D-do you have a comb?” She asks.

He smiles and nods.

Inside of the house, it started to get dark. Link lit the few oil lamps and candles inside, but it was still dim.

Upstairs, Zelda groans frustratedly as she attempts to braid her hair. She looks at her reflection in the old mirror sitting on the dresser. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t seem to get the plaits to lay the way they’re supposed to. For whatever reason, she is incapable of being able to braid her hair in any way. She can’t seem to remember, and no matter how hard she tries, the hair just won’t knot correctly. Link heard her frustration, and out of both curiosity and a desire to protect her, he steps away from the dinner he prepares, and treads up the stairs carefully.

“Zel? Is everything okay?” He asks gently.

“I’m fine!” She sighs exasperatedly. Link stops in his tracks, not wanting to bother her, but still being concerned. She was clearly not fine. He observes the situation, and sees the problem. He walks towards her, not wanting to upset her further, but wanting to be helpful.

“May I?” He asks, gesturing to the comb he let her borrow (that he “borrowed” from Riju… she still doesn’t know he has it).

She sighs, “No.”

Link is a little taken back by that.

“I don’t need your help.” She swallows, looking at herself in the reflection, a frown plastered across her face.

“Okay.” He nods and turns to go. Accepting her wish. “Dinner is ready, come down whenever you feel like it.” He says over his shoulder before continuing. She watches him, frustrated with herself and embarrassed that she can’t do something so simple anymore. When he walks down the stairs and is out of sight, she lets go and silently drops a few tears. Only a few, and she quickly wipes them away. How pathetic she thinks to herself.

She stands up, taking the comb and walking downstairs.

He plates the food he made, whistling a distantly-familiar song as he did so. Zelda sits with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders at the table, watching him, now he has a shirt on, finally. It wasn’t his blue tunic, however, it was a soft, emerald green tunic. She didn’t recognize it. It was big on him, like it was supposed to have chainmail and an undershirt, too. Either that or Link was just too small for it.

“What is that song?” She asks.

“Hm?” Link turns around with the bowls in his hand, “Oh, I’m not sure. It came to me in a dream once.” He whistles it again, down middle up, down middle up. It was the song of forests, and fairy children, but neither of them knew that. “Here, it's vegetable cream soup. I know it’s not the most glamorous mela but I was able to get the ingredients in town while you bathed, and it's filling.” He sets it down in front of her and she looks down at it. He then sets his serving across from her, and sits. The two looked at each other, neither knowing what to say.

How do you save the world and rid it from the most demonic and ancient of evils one day, and then the very next you’re sitting across from another eating a vegetable soup?

Link digs in first, purposefully eating it with one of his two spoons instead of swallowing it down like a shot. Zelda was a princess, after all.

Zelda stirs it around a bit, but brings some up to her lips, sipping it. She hums, “That is incredible, Link.” She says, and takes a bigger bite. “Where did you learn to cook?”

“Your dad taught me a lot, actually.” He says, “Back when I first woke up and he wasn’t really your dad.” Link takes a few more bites, trying to satiate his hunger but not pig out in front of her. “And then I just picked skills and recipes up from stable to stable. I really enjoyed it, actually. It gave me a hobby that didn’t have to do with strategy and how to kill the most bokoblins with the fewest arrows.” He shrugs, “By the wayLin, I can kill six bokoblins with two arrows and an acorn. I’ll show you sometime.” He speaks nonchalantly.

Zelda laughs at it and he looks at her with a puzzled look.

“I’m serious!” He defends himself.

“I believe you!” She smiles, “That’s what makes it so funny! No one would stand a chance against you.”

“Awe was that a compliment?” He teases and she laughs more. He succeeds at his attempt of cheering her up. “Don’t start giving me compliments, Zel, you know how my ego handles them. That has not changed in the last hundred years.” He jokes with a lighthearted air. She smiles, the two feel warm, and comfortable inside.

Could you really truly feel happy after an event like what they went through yesterday?

They both believed so.

They believed it because of the other.

Link finishes and stands up, “If you don’t want my help, I understand. But I would be happy to braid your hair for you. It’s not a problem.” Link says in a voice so gentle fairies would come to him. “And if you don’t want me to, that’s okay too. My feelings aren’t hurt.” He turns to the kitchen, leaving the choice up to her.

She sits in contemplation for a moment.

“I’m so embarrassed that I can’t do it.” She sighs. “I used to before the calamity,” the word feels like cotton in her mouth. “But I tried and I just… can’t. My fingers don’t remember how to.” She pushes the emotion down.

“Hey that’s okay!” Link places his bowl in the basin, “I had to remember how to jump when I woke up.”

She smiles, “you’ve recovered so much. I’m glad.”

He turns, “You will, too.”

She wanted to believe that.

“You taught me how to sign”. She signs to him, “Do you not remember?”

Link frowns, “I don’t, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Zelda sighs, “It was our special thing, none of the other champions could sign. Not even-“ She catches herself and doesn’t finish the sign.

“Mipha?” Link spells out her name, there wasn’t a sign for it.

“Yes…” Zelda responds verbally, a little ashamed.

They look at each other, youthful eyes who have seen horrors connect with each other.

Zelda picks up the comb and holds it out for him. He smiles and moves behind her.

He takes the comb and runs it through her long, golden hair. “Your hair grew while you were sealed away.” He says as he holds the soft hair in his calloused hands.

“What?” She asks. “No it did not!”

“Whatever you say, but I think it did.” He hums, parting it and then setting the comb down before beginning the plaits. “What do you want?” He assumes her classic hairstyle of the braided crown, but she lifts her hand to stop him when he starts braiding by her ear.

“Just one braid, all of my hair in it, please.” She asks.

Link nods and lets go of the strands he had in his hands, moving to a different part of her head to restart. He’s always been a very talented braider, even before the calamity. He does it fast, and he is very gentle with her scalp as he does it. When he gets to the bottom, the hair tapering, he realizes he doesn’t have a hair tie to secure it with. Instead of making her hold it while he looks for one, or having to restart, he pulls the blue one out of his hair, and ties Zelda's hair with it. He drapes it over her shoulder and walks away to close the window by the kitchen, his back towards her.

Zelda notices the blue, and looks up to see his hair loose and messy.

Her heart does something because of that.

“I would like to go to bed, I think.” She says. “Would you like me to sleep down here?” She asks.

Link turns around, puzzled, “No?” He furrowed his eyebrows, “I want you to sleep upstairs.”

“I thought that’s where you slept?”

“Nope, I mean I do. But not now, not when you’re here.” He shakes his head. “I can sleep outside with Epona, I sleep better that way anyways.” He shrugs. She looks at him with a blank stare, “What! The bed is clean I assure you.” He chuckles, so charming it’s stupid.

“No that’s not it.” She sighs, “You would sleep with an animal instead of inside?”

“Yeah… Do you not want to sleep in the bed?” He cannot comprehend what she was implying.

“No! I mean yes! I mean no!” She drops her head into her hands, “I would like to sleep in the bed, yes.”

“Great! I’ll sleep outside.”

“Link!”

“What?”

“Just… sleep inside, it's safer.” She suggests.

“But-“ He pauses to think about her words, folding his arms. “I do not understand? I am happy to sleep outside.”

Zelda chuckles, exhausted with his thought process. At least that didn’t change. “Fine. But really, I do not want to take your bed from you.”

“Please do! I don’t need it.” He pushes.

“Okay, okay.” She goes to stand up, but when she does, she completely collapses to the ground, hitting the wood floor hard.

Link wastes not a single second before running to her, calling her name. He kneels on the ground next to her, rolling her onto her back, and supporting her head under his hand.

“Gods, are you alright?” He asks, but she isn’t answering. “Zelda!” He calls her name, and she doesn’t answer, so he calls louder and louder, placing both of his hands on her face to try and wake her.

Link swears, and he grabs her hand to check her pulse but he’s so shaken up that he can’t feel anything. He leans his malformed ear against her lips to see if she is breathing, but that was the ear that he lost his hearing in a year and a half ago when fighting Windblight Ganon. He places his hand on her chest to feel, not caring that he was touching her in a place that he never should, just thinking about her safety. It’s rising and falling but shallow, and he quickly must consider mouth-to-mouth, grabbing an elixir that was too far away, or yelling her name one more time.

He chooses the latter.

He yells at her again, the loudest this time, at a volume that he never used, not even in battle. With a gasp for air, She finally comes to, her eyes opening but hazy and confused.

“Oh my goddess, you’re awake.” He gasps, pulling her against his body, cradling her against his chest. It felt like she was out for an eternity. “Thank Hylia.” He holds her tight.

“Link?” She asks, her voice weak. He squeezes his eyes shut, keeping her close.

“Shit please don’t scare me like that again.” He says, his voice quivering. He pulls away from her and she looks up at him, her eyes welling with tears. “It’s okay, it’s okay I got you.” He holds her again, “You’re safe.”

You’re safe.

—

Chapter three

#zelink #zelink fluff #zelink smut #zelink fanfic #totk zelink #zelink pining #zelink thoughts #zelink angst #legend of zelda #zelda x link #botw #totk #tloz tears of the kingdom #the legend of zelda #zelda fanfic #loz zelda #zelda fanfiction #link x zelda #totk link #botw link #tloz #loz

[axel-skz]

Gone

A/N: a spontaneous story! I’m half asleep rn :)))))))))) song roulette gives us Easy for this fic.

He had been working non stop and so you decided to go to his studio. He’d keep working and you wouldn’t distract him or bother him, just be there. You also took some food so he would have something to eat. Knowing him, he probably hadn’t eaten very much.

It took you a while and almost getting splashed by a bus to get there but it was worth it. Even just to sit in a room with him and watch him work.

You went inside the Jyp building and went up to his studio. You knocked on his door but no one answered so you let yourself in. He had his headphones on and he was writing something.

You put your stuff down on a side table and went over to where he was sat. You tapped his shoulder and he jumped. He turned and saw you, he looked angry. ‘What are you doing here?’ He said while taking off his headphones.

‘I was missing you so I thought I’d bring you some food and just hangout. I’ll be on the couch while you work and I won’t bother you at-’

‘You’re already bothering me right now. I had a melody in my head and now I’ve forgotten it because of you,’ your face dropped and any happy emotion was now gone.

‘I’m sorry…’

‘Sorry doesn’t bring back my melody, does it? Can you just go? I can’t deal with you constantly clinging to me,’ he turned to look at his notebook again.

Your face stood still for a couple moments before you turned to quietly get your things. You left the food there. Eventually he would realise and eat it. Or drown in it, you didn’t really care.

You didn’t say anything as you quickly made your way out of the building. You hadn’t realised you had left your coat but it was too late to go get it. It was cold but you would rather deal with this then deal with Chan.

You walked home, shivering. When you got inside your apartment and locked the door, you checked your phone. Brilliant. He didn’t even care to apologise. You left your key in the lock so he wouldn’t be able to unlock the door if he came over.

Over the next couple days, you got sick.

Another problem was, you couldn’t take time off work so you went in. You spent the time off, wallowing in self pity. Crying and hating life for being so cruel. Always picking on you.

Didn’t help with your cold though and today, it was too bad. There was no way you could go into work.

You looked at the million notifications from Chan as you unlocked your phone to call your coworker. After that, you were scrolling through your notifications when you accidentally clicked on a miss call. Your phone automatically called him back.

Your heart raced as you dropped the call as fast as you could.

He didn’t call back. No texts or anything. It broke your heart and you cried. You felt like the pain would swallow you up and never stop reminding you about how he didn’t care.

You almost didn’t hear it when there was a knock on your door. You hobbled over and asked who it was. It was the doorman to your building.

You opened your door because you were awfully confused about why he was here. The purpose of him knocking though was clear when you opened the door. Chan was stood next to him.

You closed the door quickly but Chan stuck his hand in and stopped it closing.

That was gonna hurt.

He thanked the doorman and picked up the bags you didn’t notice were sat next to the outside of your door. Then he came in.

You shut the door behind you and you coughed as you turned around to see him. Although you were even half way turned when he had engulfed you in a soul crushing hug.

He was crying as he apologised over and over again for how stupid he was. You cried too. You couldn’t help it. You were weak and everything hurt but the only person you wanted to be with was here. Despite everything, you missed him.

He had brought presents for you but he hadn’t known you were sick which made him even more sad.

‘How could you not tell me?’ He weeped.

‘You were mean to me! I’m tired and everything hurts, I wasn’t about to go to you so you could hurt me even more!’ You weeped back.

He spent the next couple days looking after you and doing his best to show you that you were the best thing in his life. You told him not to be close to you because he would get sick too but he didn’t care. You guys cuddled and watched movies. You felt warm and cared for.

‘I love you more then the entire universe and I’m sorry I hurt you for even a second.’

Chan: for once, she isn’t torturing me so please like and reblog!

I am nice to you!

Chan: you have a horrible track record ok, sush.

Fair… I’d like to apologise now.

Chan: No, Thank you.

No, ok, fine 🥹

Chan laughs: you don’t have to, I already forgive you.

🫶🏻 short king, Thank you 🫶🏻

Seungmin in the distance: Bang chan is so old.

Bang chan sulks off: I’m retiring. Leave me alone.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz x reader #love stray kids #skz scenarios #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #bang chan best leader #bang chan angst #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan imagine #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #skz bang chan #bang chan hurt/comfort #bang chan oneshot #bang chan fluff #bang chan

[pettytiredandjewish]

Are you pro-Israel or pro-Palestine?

I honestly don’t think it’s any of your concern but if you really want to know my “stance”, I’ll tell you. You may or may not like my answer but I’m at the point where I really don’t give a flying F. So here we go-

A little background about me-I’m not Israeli, I’m from the states but my great-grandparents on my mom side left Germany sometime a little before WW1 due to antisemitism (they were Ashkenazi Jews.) Not everyone left and the ones who did stay ended up in the concentration camps/ghettos during WW2. Honestly if my great grandparents didn’t leave Germany- well there is a high chance that I wouldn’t be here and that this family tree branch would be non existent.

I’m gonna be honest I’m a “zionost”. There is no safe place for Jews. A lot of countries made it known for many years and they are still making it known to this day. Not only is the land of Israel is considered holy (I’m not super religious but I do recognize and respect that it’s a sacred and holy site) but it is also considered a safe place for many Jews who had to leave their own homes due to all the antisemitism/hate/etc. I’m not an “anti-Zionist”. Did you know that one of Russian’s leaders during- I believe the Soviet Union created that term as a way to help destroy Jewish culture during that era? That term just rubs me the wrong way.

I constantly worry about my friends and family. I worry about mine and their safety. I have to keep looking over my shoulder when I leave the house or when I go to the store, it to work… I know my parents worry too and I know my mom is secretly happy that I attended Shabbat services via online. I don’t want to think about what would happen if something happened to me or to my family/friends. But I don’t hide my “Jewishness”. I love being Jewish- I’m not ashamed of it. It’s a beautiful culture but it also is sad too. The history is not all butterfly’s and rainbows. We (Jews) have suffered for generations but we also overcome everything that people throws at us. Are we traumatized? Probably yes, but we don’t give up. We work hard to keep our culture alive so that we can keep passing it down.

The situation in Israel and Palestine is/has always been messy. It’s like a pressure pot- every little issue and conflict has been cooking up for some time. And every once in a while someone will let some steam out- to help let out some pressure but if you keep it covered and not let out the pressure, well it’s all going to build up and explode. And il that’s what’s happening here. That’s what we’re seeing now. This is the aftermath.

So to answer your question- I’m “pro Israel”: I think that Israelites have the right to live there. It’s their home. They did not colonize it. It is also not an apartheid state. Really people- please read a dictionary to understand these terms that you keep throwing out. Gaza’s government has been unstable for some time and it did eventually fell to hamas control sometime earlier 2000’s(?) for those who don’t know and or still in denial about what they really are- hamas is a terrorist organization. They’re not a resistance group of freedom fighters “fighting to save their people” cuz they don’t give a damn about their own people. They a literally using their own civilians as human shields. They’re stealing resources that’s mental for the civilians and using it themselves.

Also quick question(s) but why is Israel getting blasted for defending themselves after Oct 7? Is anyone gonna call out the other neighboring countries for how they are handling the situation- why aren’t they opening up their borders for refugees? Also why are most of y’all blaming Israel citizens and well- Jewish people in general- i mean I know the answer to this (*cough* most of y’all hate Jews and are using this as a reason to unmask yourselves).

I honestly could keep going- I’ve mostly kept this to myself, so it’s building up, but to be “nice” I’m gonna stop there for now. I don’t know what your “stance” is and I really don’t care per se- the whole situation has been stressing me out like crazy. If you don’t like my answer to bad so sad- I’m no one’s “good Jew”. If you or anyone have any questions you can ask but if you say some antisemitic crap I will block you and depending on my mood- call you out on it too. Have a happy holiday.

Am Yisrael Chai

#jumblr #judaism #antisemitism #zionisim #anti zionisim #i/p conflict

[seresinhangmanjake]

Signed Away

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader Series

Summary: You find out about the contractual marriage your parents arranged with Jake’s when you were a baby. You’re plently angered by it, but Jake doesn’t seem too bothered. He might even be happy. 

Notes/Warnings: cursing, fluff, eventual smut, angst, contract marriage, loss of rights, feelings of being trapped, poor parent/child relationships. 

This will be a bunch of fairly short chapters/drabbles, but considering there are generous time skips, I felt like it made the most sense. This is also just kind of a tester chapter. Idk that anyone is going to like it. As always, comments can make my bad days worth getting through, so i’ll never not appreciate them. Reblogs and likes make me smile uncontrollably, but no pressure :)

Masterlist

Part 1 - Words: 1340

For too long, it was never spoken aloud. Not by your fathers. Not by your mothers. Not by aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, cousins. And yet it was known. Expected. Silently proposed, accepted, and settled on long before you understood the role requiring your fulfillment upon your twenty-first birthday, long before you knew what a birthday even was. And it was non-negotiable. You would be Jake Seresin’s wife. You just didn’t know it. Because while everyone else had been well aware, they neglected to inform you.

 -----

“You know we’re supposed to be dating, don’t you?”

That was the first thing a freshly graduated, 23-year-old Jake Seresin told you within his first week back on Texas soil. He sipped his beer as he stared out at the nearly one-hundred guests thoroughly filling out the space of his parents’ backyard for his Homecoming party.

You watched the summer heat condensation trail onto his hand from the glass bottle as he took another sip. “Excuse me?”

He smiled and waved at the partiers that did the same for him, some dressed like Sunday church-goers—clearly his parent’s guests—others laying around the pool in bikini’s so small they looked like spring breakers looking for anonymous, uncomplicated sex—his guests for sure. Abs and tits dripped with droplets of chlorinated water, drawing wet lines down their bodies that forced an onlooker’s eye to follow.

Despite it all, Jake kept his attention on you. “Nineteen, right?”

With a pinched brow, you gave him a quick questioning glance.

“I mean I know we haven’t spent a lot of personal time together in the last decade, but I’m pretty sure your birthday is the same,” he said with a devastating smirk that briefly sputtered your heartbeat.

No wonder he knew all of these tight-bodied, made-up women. They probably threw themselves at him constantly if that was the look he was shooting their way. Their glaring at you suddenly made a mountain of sense. Jealousy at its finest, solely from his proximity to another girl.

“You’re nineteen.”

Oh…right. “So?” you replied, failing at casually taking a long drink of the soda in your own bottle. You coughed when a bit of the liquid travelled down the wrong pipe, sparking the snarky chuckles from the near-naked women thirty feet away.

“So,” Jake stretched the syllable, impressively without managing to sound like an immature child. “You’re a grown woman, I’ve finally finished college, it’s only a matter of time before our sides start to ache from our mothers’ nudging elbows.”

Your scowl at his guests dropped once his words sunk it, and you paused, forgetting about anyone else entirely. You let out an unattractive snort that would’ve bloomed a dark shade of pink across your cheeks and chest had not the lunacy of what he was saying overpowered any embarrassment. “You sound like a crazy person,” you said. “No wonder we stopped being friends when we were little.”

“Yea, I’m sure the four-year age difference in school had nothing to do with it.”

What thirteen-year-old wants a nine-year-old little girl following him around? Somehow it was still fresh. You’d cried for what felt like days after he’d yelled that and promptly walked off with his friends, leaving you alone in the park to twiddle your thumbs and try to hold in the tears until you made it back to your bedroom. You didn’t have other friends to turn to. And that hadn’t so much changed as you aged.

“Look, Seresin, I don’t know how drunk you are to have crafted whatever ridiculous thoughts you have in your mind, or maybe you’re fucking with me to give your friends a show, but whatever it is, just so we’re clear, I’m not going to date you.” You gave a sharp nod, your own form of a solid pat on the back for standing up for yourself and preserving your dignity in the face of a man so irritatingly attractive. Had you not known him from the moment of your birth, you might have thrown yourself at his feet and thanked him for the consideration of being his potential partner.

He was entirely unphased and made sure you knew it by the deep chuckle he released. “Pretty sure you don’t have a choice, sweetheart,” he said. “We could wait I guess, but it’s probably best we spend the next two years getting to know one another again, I’d think. I don’t have any intention of marrying someone who has grown to be a stranger.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

-----

“Darling, stop this wild pacing,” you mother said from her seat. “It makes you look unhinged.”

To her credit, it got you to stop, but you stared at her with eyes likely wilder than a raging monkey. “Mom!”

“It’s not that big of a deal. He’s a handsome man. You’ll be fine.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Your hands flew up in the air before they fell back to your sides, limp as a ragdoll beaten to death by fist after fist. “Why has no one, not a single fucking soul—”

“Language, young lady.”

“—ever fucking told me about this?”

“Y/N, your mouth!”

“Is that really what you care about right now!” you snapped, pointing a finger at her. “You and dad sold me off!”

She sighed, dejected at your outburst, and yet she still managed to look the prim, perfect woman she was, her hands delicately folded in her lap, legs properly crossed at the ankles. “That is not what happened.”

You scoffed. “Oh, no?”

Her head tilted and a manicured eyebrow rose. You’d recognize that gesture anywhere, too often from your childhood. She was waiting for you to get yourself together before she presented you with her speech. So you took a deep breath, allowed your arms to unweave from in front of your chest, and straightened your spine. She’d want more, but it was the best you were willing to give.

“When you were a baby,” she began, “your father and George Seresin merged their companies, as you know, and to ensure they each have a hand in the business after their deaths, they decided a merger of another form would be beneficial as well,” she paused as if that alone explained the madness, but then continued once it became clear you weren’t going to immediately snap at her. “You and Jake, as a couple, will run the company one day and—”

“And you didn’t think to share this with me?”

“Why tell you before it was necessary?”

“Jake knows!”

“That’s a recent development,” your mother said, shifting uncomfortably on the chaise longue. “And only because he inquired as to whether or not you currently have a boyfriend. Amelia felt it a good time to tell him that your relationship status with other men wouldn’t be worth the concern.”

Of course, he would get to know by asking a simple question. Of course, it would fall into his lap. His mother held a respect for him yours for you did not. A wife, for fucks sake. You would be his damn wife. And to the woman who birthed you, that acknowledgement couldn’t possibly be shown more casually. “Unbelievable,” you muttered.

“He’s very handsome.”

“As if that’s all that matters.”

She stood on her three-inch satin heels that clicked against the hardwood when she made her way over to you. A coco-butter-moisturized hand cupped your cheek. The other brushed the unruly hair from your face. “You could do much worse, darling, and I’m not sure much better. He could have waited to mention it, but he clearly wants to fall in love the old-fashioned way, and he’s willing to give you almost two whole years to fall with him.”

Smacking her hands away from your face, you took a step out of the cloud of Chanel perfume, and granted her a look that, directed at you, would’ve had you shrinking in your spot, but your mother stood firm.

“That’s not going to happen,” you said. 

And you would make sure of it. 

tags: @marvel-ousnesss @thespeeder @nobody7102 @marrianena @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot @smoothdogsgirl @smit41​

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin top gun #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun 2 #top gun fic #hangman fic #jake hangman fic #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin imagine #glen powell #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman imagine

[themultifandomgal]

Will Halstead- Your Sick

This was a request. Hope you enjoy!

I met Will 2 years ago having worked at Mollys bar. We quickly became friends, and eventually we ended up becoming roommates. Over the 2 years feelings developed, well I know on my side they definitely have but I have no idea how Will feels.

I wake up hearing Wills alarm go off early in the morning. The sun hasn’t even risen yet. I groan barley sleeping last night due to being so cold and feeling sick. I begin coughing into my bedsheet to try and drown out the noise. I hear Wills footsteps walking passed my door, but then they stop and the door opens revealing a worried looking Will

“That’s a nasty cough. You feeling alright?” Will asks. I shake my head in response

“Feel sick and cold. My heads starting to hurt and so is my throat” i cough out. Will places his hand on my forehead

"Hmmm you do feel warm. Let me take your temp" he says before leaving my room. Will quickly returns holding a thermometer and painkillers in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Putting them down on my bedside table Will checks my temperature “hmmm 102.7. Bed day for you I’m afraid. I’ll make you a hot lemon and honey drink before I go to work”

“Thanks” I sniffle feeling full of flu

“I’ll phone you later. See how your feeling. Get some rest” Will tells me before leaving for work.

I don’t manage to fall asleep and it’s still dark outside when my phone rings

“Hey” I croak out answering the phone

“How are you feeling? Have you eaten anything?”

“Been sick a few times” I reply before having a coughing fit

“I’ll be home in a few hours, just try to rest”

“I’ll try” I say, again coughing up a lung before hanging up the phone and trying to get comfortable in bed.

I must have eventually fallen back asleep for some time because when I wake up again the sun is shining. However I feel worse that I had earlier. My body is now aching, my nose is stuffy, I also still feel super sick, but finally Will returns home

"How are you feeling?"

“Like crap" I reply shivering in bed

"Have you eaten anything?" Will asks sitting on the edge of the bed

"No. Been sick again”

"Just drink the water slowly, little sips. Can I take your temp again?"

"Yeah" I sigh

"103.3 Jesus it's going up"

"M'cold" I say wrapping the bedsheet round me more

"I know, but you can't get to warm. Let me go and get some more Tylenol and some more water"

“You don’t have to do this Will”

“I know but I want to” I give Will a little smile of appreciation.

As the days go by Will is amazing and thankfully with his help I start to feel better within a couple of days, however my feelings for Will have only grown. Will and I sit on the couch in the living room with the TV on. I notice Will’s looking at me rather than the TV

“What?” I question looking at Will

“Nothing” I raise my eyebrows at Will not believing him at all

“You’ve been staring at me for the last 5 minutes”

“Can’t I appreciate beauty when I see it”

“What?”

“Im sick of hiding my feelings for you”

“Your feelings? I’m confused”

“I’m in love with you, have probably since we met but I was so scared to admit it since I was with Natalie. Then when she left and you moved in those feelings just… I love you and I’m no longer going to hide it” I sit there stunned at what Will just said “please say something” but instead I lean forward and kiss him on the lips

“I feel the same way” I reply smiling.

#one chicago imagine #one chicago #chicago med imagine #chicago med #will halstead x yn #will halstead x you #will halstead x reader #will halstead imagine #will halstead

[fuctacles]

in love and war part 2

For Spicy Six Winter Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair

T | 2221 | feelings realization, bi awakening | read part 1 here | part 3 here

And this takes us to the present. The revenge plan.

The sun has just come up and there are four of them camping in Steve’s car, sharing thermoses full of hot beverages of choice. (Steve brought one full of hot cocoa and it's the crowd’s favorite.)

“Eddie is not an early riser, we’re wasting time,” Lucas complains while observing the trailer with his binoculars. 

“I think his uncle’s gonna wake him up for us,” Robin assures him. And like clockwork, Wayne Munson’s truck comes into view, almost knocking down one of their sculptures. The man steps out, takes a look at the dozen snowmen surrounding his trailer, and disappears inside. 

About fifteen minutes later, the curtains in one of the windows move. Steve’s buzzing in his seat. Or maybe just shivering. He reaches into his pocket for a tissue to wipe his runny nose.

“There’s a message!”

“Well, read it!”

“Nice move, Stevie,” Lucas reads the paper that appeared in the window. “Can’t play with you tho, I’m sick. Sad face.”

“Did he draw a sad face or…?”

“Of course, he drew it!”

Steve yanks the binoculars from Lucas to see for himself. The papers disappeared but Eddie took their place in the window, wrapped in a blanket. There’s a scarf around his neck and his nose is red. He looks bad.

“Damn. He really is sick.”

“Full offense but you look like shit, too.”

“Can it, Mayfield.”

He steps out and walks up to the trailer. Eddie finally spots him and he perks up and waves at him.

“Hi!” 

Even through the window, Steve can hear how croaky his voice is.

“Guess there goes your next campaign.”

Eddie laughs weakly, it turns into a cough.

“Guess so.”

“You started it,” he reminds him.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Why?” Steve frowns at him. Eddie shrugs.

“Seemed like a fun idea.”

“Imagine how much fun you could be having playing DnD now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waves his hand. “But. You know.” He shrugs again.

“No, I don’t know.” He shakes his head, frowning again.

“You don’t play DnD.”

He taps against the glass nervously and Steve collects himself quickly.

“We can find something that doesn’t end with you in bed.”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle with mischief and Steve immediately realizes the double meaning in his words.

“Okay, shut up.”

He turns around and leaves quickly. The inside of his car is surprisingly warm and he shivers from head to toe.

“Well, I’m leaving before I catch whatever this is,” Max eyes him before escaping the car. She stops once outside. “Lucas, you coming?”

The boy scrambles behind her.

“Let’s get you home,” Robin squeezes his arm. 

He takes one last glance at Eddie’s trailer and nods. 

It’s all misery from there. He makes camp in the living room because that’s where the tv is and he needs some entertainment while sitting on his ass and coughing. Robin takes stock of his medicine cabinet and whatever else he may need while housebound. She forces him to take his temperature. He’s prissy about it because it would make the sickness real, but it’s barely above average.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Robin pats him on the head while inspecting the thermometer. “Where’s your walkie?”

“There’s no need-”

“Little shitheads need to know they’re on their own. Or rather on their parent’s mercy.”

He nods.

“It should be on my desk.”

She’s gone for a while which makes him assume he’s excluded from the conversation. There’s probably a lot of yelling happening from the kids and Robin’s saving him the headache, bless her heart. She comes back eventually, walkie in hand. 

“I’ll leave it nearby in case you need anything, but I told them not to bother you, that you’ll contact them if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” he smiles. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” she smiles back. “Dustin isn’t happy, of course, but his mom said they’ll come with some soup later. Max said, and I quote “serves them well.”

“She's not wrong,” he mutters.

“Will and Lucas said they’re sorry. Will said Mike’s sorry too.”

Steve snorts.

“Course he did. What did Eddie say?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “Either he was sleeping or too sick to speak up.”

“Huh.” He’s weirdly disappointed about that.

“Anyway, I gotta go to work now because my coworker called in sick.” She pats his knee as she stands up.

“Uh, I’m sorry?”

She shakes her head.

“You’ll pay me back when I come down with whatever I just caught from you. I’ll come over tomorrow with some movies. don’t forget Dustin’s coming later today!”

He groans.

“Right, of course.”

“Yeah, not jealous about that, buddy.” She pats his head. His hair is ruined enough that he doesn’t protest. “Walkie if you need anything, do not leave the house, keep yourself warm. Toodles!”

“See you, Rob.”

Later he has to listen to Dustin yelling at him from the other side of the room (“I’m not getting any closer to your germs, Steve!”). Claudia, the wonderful mom she is, doesn’t have such reservations and hands him the soup she brought after heating it.

“Dusty made us make rounds to all your friends to gather a care package for you.”

Steve makes a surprised sound over his cup.

“Being sick is so boring, we thought it could help!” Dustin adds, still yelling from afar. But the anger seems to have seeped out of him. “We’re going to Eddie’s next, his care package is cooler.”

“Dustin!”

Steve laughs.

“He’s probably right, Ms. Claudia, I don’t think our interests overlap as much as with Eddie.”

“Well, you’re gonna get educated because we do not have boring jock shit for you.”

“Dustin!”

“What?! It’s the truth!”

Steve snorts so hard, he needs a tissue.

After they leave, he digs into the care package like it’s a Christmas morning. Everything has little post-it notes with get-well wishes and signed who it’s from. From Robin, he got promised medication restock and some hard candy for his throat. Will gave him a copy of Hobbit and a tape which upon opening, turned out to have a small joint hidden inside, courtesy of Jonathan. El lent him a Wonder Woman comic. Dustin gave him a Batman comic and a handwritten guide titled “D&D for dummies”, that actually made him chuckle. At the bottom, probably because Dustin was ashamed of his friend, was an issue of Sports Illustrated with a note “Read the Magic Johnson interview!” and below that, a girly-looking magazine, dryly signed “from Erica.” He chuckled to himself and opened it first. Inside was another Post-it note that read “page 17”. Intrigued, he flips the pages to find it.

On page seventeen, there is a segment titled “Flirting or bullying?” and one of the questions/stories is highlighted with a pink marker. Steve gets to reading.

“Dear TM team,

My friend, S, is being followed by this boy who keeps starting snowball fights. He’s waiting for S’s shift to end, sitting in his van outside the shop to do so. It’s turning into a full-blown snowball war by this point. My other friend thinks they are pulling pigtails, but I just think they are dumb. So, is it flirting or boys being idiots? -E”

Steve drops the magazine and goes into the kitchen to have a refill of his soup.

When Robin comes in the next day, the magazine still lies where he left it, taunting him. His heart stutters when she picks it up with a laugh.

“I guess under all her snark Erica is just another girl, huh?”

Oh, how wrong she was.

He licked his dry lips before speaking up, barely audible and fucking terrified.

“Open it.”

Surprised, her eyes snap at him, but something in his tone makes her comply without a word. He pretends to busy himself studying the romcoms she brought.

“Huh,” he hears among the rustle of the pages. He looks up, too tempted to watch her face while she reads.

“What’s so fucking funny?” he asks, watching her lips quirk.

“Nothing!” she squeaks. “I’m surprised she did that.”

“I’m not. It’s Erica.”

“True,” she giggles, closing the magazine. He frowns at her.

“What did they say?”

“You didn’t read it?”

He taps his fingers against his mug.

“I chickened out,” he admits.

“Why don’t you ask Eddie yourself?”

“Robin,” he whines.

“Steve,” she whines back. She scoots closer and takes the mug out of his hand to lace their fingers together. “Listen, I rejected you and now we’re friends. You’re friends with Nancy too. You can let him down gently, it’s not the end of the world.”

“No, Robin…” He sighs, squeezing her hand. “I think I was, um… pulling his pigtails back.”

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit,” he nods.

They look into each other’s eyes, giddy and nervous, before bursting into giggles. Their eyes fall back on the magazine. 

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Didn’t Eddie get a care package from them too?”

“Oh shit.”

“Dude I can’t stay here forever, pick up the phone!”

“Your yelling is really not helping me.”

“Oh, so you’d rather do it by yourself?”

He winces.

“No? Yes? I don’t know!”

She groans and he’s pretty sure she’s about to strangle him when the phone calls. They both jump and stare at it. Robin eyes him but he’s not moving a muscle so she groans and picks it up in the middle of the third ring.

“Yes?” She sounds calm and collected. “Oh, hi Eddie!” She smiles like an imp, staring straight into Steve’s soul. “You sound like shit.”

He makes a sound of protest, but she puts a hand up to stop him.

“Oh, you just got your voice back? And you’re calling Steve first thing? How sweet!” She’s making kissy faces at him and he’s about to commit murder. “Yes, he’s awake, I’ll get him.” She holds out the receiver. “For you.”

“Fucking obviously,” he murmurs, snatching it from her. She snickers.

“I’ll be in the living room,” she says and struts away, but he keeps an eye on her just in case she decides to eavesdrop. 

“Steve?” 

He does sound terrible.

“It’s me, hi.”

“Hi, um. Did you, by any chance, maybe, perhaps, get a care package from the kids?”

Steve’s insides twist.

“Yes?”

“From Erica too?”

“Yes.”

“A magazine?”

“Page seventeen?”

Eddie breathes hard into the receiver. 

“Yes, that.”

The silence hangs between them. His clogged sinuses make it hard to formulate thoughts.

“What did they say?”

“What?”

“Was it flirting or bullying?” he clarifies, fumbling with the cord. 

“You didn’t read it?”

“No.” He tries to find an explanation that doesn't sound bad. “Wanted to hear it from you.”

Eddie takes a ragged breath, it turns into a coughing fit. Steve frowns.

“You should go back to bed, we can talk about it later.”

“No!” Eddie protests straight away. Coughs a bit more. “I just… Yes, they say it was flirting,” he spits out.

Steve suddenly feels worse.

“But they were wrong,” he pushes for clarification.

Eddie sounded like they were.

“I don’t know,” he admits instead. Steve frowns.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You either flirt or-”

“I never thought about it, okay?” Eddie interrupts him. “I always assumed I’m into chicks but I’d definitely not flirt with one like that.”

It feels like a punch in the gut and Steve knows his own answer. Robin’s right, he’s survived rejection and unrequited feelings and got life-long friendships out of it. He can bear one more.

“Well, I’m pretty sure it was flirting on my part.”

Eddie starts coughing again.

“It’s okay if you weren’t i just wanted to be clear,” he adds as soon as the coughing subdues. “I never thought about it before either.”

“No, listen. Steve. Stevie.”

Steve’s stomach makes a backflip against his will.

“Yes?”

“I’m still thinking about it, okay? Just, the fever isn’t helping. Like, I want to say yes, but I’d rather say it when I’m not sick and half out of it, you know?”

Steve barks out a laugh, relieved and hopeful.

“Sure, makes sense. I’ll still be here.”

Waiting, like a dumbass.

“Cool. I’ll call you tomorrow, I’m out of stamina for today.”

“Sure, uh, sleep well.”

“You too, sweetheart.”

Steve’s too stunned by the pet name to put the phone away, so they just breathe into each other's ears, startled. But he won’t let Eddie one-up him like that.

“Goodnight, handsome.”

Eddie made a choked sound before ending the call. Steve puts the phone down and walks back into the living room, where Robin is waiting for him, the TV forgotten.

“Well? What did he say?” she asks before he can sit down.

“That he’s still thinking about it.”

“Nooooo!”

“But he did call me a sweetheart.”

“Oh?”

“I guess neither of us realized we were flirting.”

“Steve!” She starts slapping his arm.

“What? What?!”

“I hate you so much! You were each other’s gay awakening? How is that fair?!”

She’s pouting when he grasps her hands to stop the assault.

“Well, we can plot a snowball war against Vickie next,” he offers.

“Are you kidding me?! She’d hate it!”

Steve imagined a gaggle of kids ganging against the poor little redhead.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I guess men are a simpler species.”

“You are so lucky I love you.”

#spicysixwinterfanworkschallenge #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #mine #stranger things #ff #st #stranger things 4 #steddie fanfiction #winter steddie #steddie fluff #steddie one shot #steddie oneshot

[luimagines]

I can’t find the post where this idea first appeared so I’m not trying to take credit. Basically the person said something like “I think it’d be funny if when the chain was together Wild could still just eat food to recover. So he’s bleeding out and they all are freaking out but then he just starts shoveling 15 apples down his throat and all his injuries start closing up and everything and the chain just looks at him like he gained three heads.”

So I thought a mini scenario would be funny. So they’re all fighting a hoard of monsters, and Wild has a bunch of cuts and bruises and whatnot but he’s still fighting. All of a sudden Twilight is about to get impaled so Wild jumps in front of him (self sacrificing idiot lol). He goes down bleeding out profusely as Twilight screams and cries thinking he’s about to die on him.

“Nonononono! You can’t die on me!!”

“Twi-“

“Shhh! Y-you’ll be ok! Don’t use your energy. It-it’s fine! I have a potion!”

Twilight dumps his whole pack on the ground and grabs a red potion. He uncorks it and tries to give it to Wild, but he pushes it away.

“Don’t…need…”

Twilight is absolutely panicking thinking Wild is slipping mentally.

“Wild, you have to! It’s the only solution. I don’t have a fairy!”

Hyrule has also seen what’s going on and has sprinted over to try and heal him but Wild grips his hands and tries pushing them away too.

“St-“ coughs up blood “Stop Hyrule…slate…”

Twilight and Hyrule are looking at each other through their tears, confused.

“Wild, we have a red potion right here. You don’t need your slate.”

“Y-yes…I do!” Knowing they won’t just give it he says “Have…fairy!”

Which isn’t a lie. He does, he just doesn’t plan on using it. So finally Twilight reaches for Wild’s slate and hands it to him. Wild swipes quickly through his slate and just keeps clicking on apples with one hand while shoving them down his throat with the other hand. During this process everyone has come over and all are crying thinking he’s gonna die soon. After like 10 apples they start seeing changes: his cuts and bruises are fading and his huge stab wound is closing. After another 10 he’s completely healed. After he finishes they all look at him like “WHAT THE HECK JUST HAPPENED?!” There’s still one monsters left that they neglected for Wild and so he gets up, kills it like normal, and walks back over to everyone, who are all still just staring at where he just was laying on the ground bleeding out, frozen in place.

“Uh…guys…? I’m over here…hello…? I killed the last monster by the way.” Wild tries to get their attention but they won’t move an inch. Eventually he gives up and goes to start dinner. He makes everything like normal but at the end he says with a smirk, “Alright, so I’ll take it that y’all want a whole jar of Goron spice too?”

That snaps everyone out of their stupor and they all jump up and scream a “Nooo!” Unanimously.

The end.

Though they definitely have questions at dinner.😂

Goron Spice is the ultimate ice breaker. XD

It's probably hot enough to melt the ice by just touching so it works out just fine.

Alternatively, Wild is trying to shove apples down his throat and the boys start panicking over that instead because he is bleeding profusely! Is he even chewing!? Wild, no-! Slow down! Don't choke!!!!

After like three apples he stops bleeding and can finally sit up straight. He looks around, suddenly looking much more coherent. "I'm good, just lemme keep eating."

".... Wild, what the f-?!"

#pinky replies #anon stories

[strangersails]

hear me out: gojo casually becomes a tiktok famous posting a phone call prank where he flirts with a guy calling him on his office number and making him nervous and flustered. it obviously gets viral. he thinks it’s just a one time thing, he doesn’t mean to make something more out of it or to start a prank series, but he gets pushed by shoko and suguru and he decides to try for a second prank call eventually. he dials some random numbers until eventually somebody picks up, after just a few seconds.

“hello?”

the voice on the other side of the phone is so deep and serious that gojo can already feel his face getting warmer. “hello, handsome.”

there’s silence for a moment. “you might have called the wrong number.”

“oh no, i totally didn’t.” gojo turns off the microphone to let out an hysterical laugh, looking at his friends. “he’s a daddy” he says to them. “he so is a daddy”.

“is this a prank?” the voice on the phone says. “i’m hanging up.”

gojo rushes to turn the microphone back on and says “no, don’t hang up, i’m here. i’m sorry”.

“who’s this?” sexy guy asks. he sounds so serious gojo wishes he could fuck a voice.

“you don’t know?” there’s silence. sexy guy must be thinking. gojo don’t want him to hang up, so he adds quickly “that’s a shame. i guess you’ll need to find out.”

there’s silence for another second, then Sexy Guy says “okay.”

that’s when gojo’s heart starts beating faster, cause he didn’t expect the man with the sexiest voice he’s ever heard to actually play along. and things are starting to feel serious, in a way.

“for real?” gojo answers after a moment, getting up from the couch and walking to his room, cause he needs to think and he can’t, when suguru’s leaning on his shoulder to catch the whole conversation.

also, he doesn’t care about the prank anymore.

“what, you’re up to a little flirting on the phone with strangers, but you chicken out if i flirt back?”

gojo feels called out at that.

“i just didn’t expect for things to turn serious” he admits. “so... who this sexy voice belongs to?”

“it’s nanami.”

then there are voices and noises on the other side of the phone.

“just nanami?”

“nanami kento” the man says, then clears his throat.

“nanami kento” gojo repeats slow and sweet, just to savour the name on his lips.

“correct” nanami says, short and formal.

“you’re at work, aren’t you?”

“correct” nanami says again. “i’m afraid you’ll have to call back later.”

“okay then. we don’t want to get you in trouble” gojo says, and it’s true, as much as he’d like to hear him blush on the phone. “as long as you take me out for dinner tonight.”

nanami is silent for a moment. “i’ll consider it.”

“and promise to think about me” gojo likes to tease him. nanami is obviously curious, but gojo doesn’t like the way he answers, so collected and like he’s unimpressed. he wants to push him a little.

“oh, i will.”

“i’ll call you later then, daddy.”

nanami chokes and gojo is happy to hear him cough loud and clear his throat again.

“see you later...”

“satoru” he offers.

“satoru” nanami repeats and gojo loves his own name right now.

“love you” gojo keeps pushing. he doesn’t want to hang up, but he’ll have to, eventually.

nanami doesn’t answer, just huffs a laugh through his nose. he’s nervous.

“say it back.”

nanami doesn’t answer.

gojo insists. “say it back.”

“no” nanami sounds so serious.

“please” gojo uses his sweetest voice. “please, daddy.”

gojo can hear nanami swear under his breath. “ok, stop messing around. i’m at work.” voice so low.

“but you have to say it back” gojo says it in a way so manipulative and demanding and innocent. he knows what he’s doing and he know that nanami won’t resist.

“god, you'll get me fired.” nanami exhales loud, probably through his nose. “okay. love you too.”

gojo’s heart skips a beat. this is the best thing that is happened to him.

“of course you love me” he says then.

“such a brat” gojo grins at that. he won. nanami speaks again. “i really have to go, now.”

“okay, baby. think of me.” he says again.

“i will.”

gojo waits for him to hang up.

he still doesn’t.

“call me back.” nanami says.

“you’re already so in love with me you’re afraid i won’t call you?”

not a word comes from the other side of the phone.

then gojo adds “see you tonight. naked, i hope.”

gojo can hear nanami curse as he hangs up.

#this was something i already wrote for another paring but its so good for our little nanago #somebody please write this #like properly cause this was rushed and all #please don't take this for a ficlet or anything #maybe a long ass prompt #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanago #nanami kento #gojo satoru #*mine