#Someone: you have reflux!

[rattusn0rvegicus]

"I am going to start my mornings out by not allowing myself to use technology involving screens/the Internet for the first hour after I wake up"

Tfw it works great and you get up each morning and read a book and make breakfast and a to-do list for the day and feel very peaceful and present in the world! And then when the hour's up you immediately go on your phone to "catch up for all the lost time" and it feels like what you imagine having a smoke after not smoking all day would feel like. Except now you're chain-smoking and you can't stop. Yippee

#girl not to sound like a boomer but sometimes it really is those damn phones #Like my health is bad bc I spend so much time in this damn thing when I could be idk #LIVING and MOVING MY BODY and EXPERINCING STUFF #Like I feel like I'm aging myself so fast. I shouldn't be having acid reflux and fatigue and have so little endurance #I'm 26 damnit like... I'm getting to the point where you either use it or lose it and boy am I not using it #Idk how to stop tho. Maybe I could incorporate a workout into my routine #and not allow myself on my phone UNTIL I have completed said workout or gone on a walk #Bring the time up to an hour and 30 minutes or two hours maybe as well #But I get so much anxiety about not checking my messages immediately after I woke up. What if someone needed me or something??? #Realistically. They can wait an extra hour or two....they were already waiting while I was asleep

[chrisbangs]

I properly mourned what I thought was you leaving here even though we're not mutuals because you're the only creator around who cared to make edits and clips of Jeongchan, I love them so much and you were one of the few people who got it. I remember you and cherish what you did

🥺🖤😭💗 hold on . JUST HOLD ON!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭🤍🤍🤍🤍 fhis made me tear up........ listen 🫂 if there is one thing i will always do it is be annoying as fuck abt jeongchan 😭🤍🥹💗 m so happy that i could have provided jeongchan content for you 🥺 i recently remembered i have my jeongchan gif series AND IM GONNA ADD STUFF JUST FOR YOU BESTIE 😭🫂🤍🌙

#i cant believe all my insane yammering has led to something good (someone enjoying the jeongchan insanity) #they make me so sensitive it's not ok #even if they stand next to each other smtimes that's enough to give me acid reflux like #☹️ you have no idea how happy it makes me that you got more jeongchan bc of me HWHWJSJSKSNSKS #😭😭 mourned.. i'm sorry HENJDNDKD #i was super unhappy on here i still don't exactly feel welcome but 😞💗🫶 #i'm happy at least one good thing comes from my being on here :( #anon #answered

[tarvastries]

had red lobster :D but now I’ve got a massive headache :( either from the caffeine in the sweet tea or bc of not being able to breathe properly

#okay so I know someone’s gonna ask why I can’t breathe #the short answer is the majority of foods I like to eat contain acid reflux triggers #and when you have chronic acid reflux like I do #the acid can cause swelling of the esophagus and other parts of the airway #leaving me out of breath when I eat trigger foods #so yay #sav speaks #sav needs to stop talking about acid reflux

[unpretty]

hey. Please link the pillow? 😢

i am going to use an amazon affiliate link but if you would rather look it up elsewhere, i support you. if you can find it cheaper literally anywhere, get that one. if you can find a bootleg please tell me because i looked for months before giving in and buying this fucking pillow. if you think you can get away with making your own out of foam, go for it. if your work gives you an HSA/FSA you can buy it with that, but you cannot get health insurance to reimburse you for it (i checked). i had to buy this fucking pillow with a goddamn payment plan. a pillow payment plan. nothing will make you question your life choices like needing a payment plan for a fucking pillow.

anyway it's called the medcline.

i have horrible acid reflux but ended up basically never using my bed wedge when i finally got one because trying to side sleep on a cheapo wedge is a nightmare. on multiple occasions i have slept so wrong i couldn't turn my neck for days. one time i fucked up my shoulder so bad i couldn't sleep on that side for a week. i have no idea how i pulled that off but clearly i have invented some advanced sleep failure techniques. as near as i can tell my sleeping body defaults to the family guy death pose, which is not ergonomic. so i bought the goddamn armhole pillow and figured if it didn't work i'd return it.

my side of the bed is a fortress now. when i pull the duvet up it looks like ferris bueller is trying to convince someone he's sick. the big curling body pillow looks like i killed clippy to sleep inside his corpse. when i am getting ready for bed it looks like i'm plugging myself into some kind of pod. it's so fucking dumb. i am sleeping great and no longer falling asleep to the taste of bile and waking up with a fucked up neck. my hips don't hurt. i can't return it. i can't go back to the before times. i'm so mad about it.

#original #affiliate links jsyk #greatest hits

[meiieiri]

𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: after the two brats from tokyo jujutsu tech took the star plasma vessel, toji momentarily sets his eyes on an uncompensated target, you.

warnings. dark explicit sex. voyeurism. dumbification. size kink. overstimulation. unprotected sex.

a/n: help i’m writing this in the lab while waiting for my reflux setup to finish its shit. also my lab coworker just passed by me and i deadass had to cross my legs FUCK why am i so filthy

toji watched from the cctv cameras in the apartment, licking his lips when he sees someone who didn’t quite show up on the briefing sheet shu gave him. he couldn’t help it and he was alone right now, his handler had to take a call. shit, school uniforms are always so short and skimpy these days. his veiny hand finds his stiff throbbing cock, his thumb pressing against the angry tip coating it with his thick cum as the woman on the laptop casually sweeps the mess of the apartment, your cute little butt on full display as you bend over to pick something up from the ground.

and that’s what led to this — shu wondering where toji took the fucking van and him splitting you open on his cock with his head thrown back as you clench around him. “w-wait—“

“i waited the entire day, baby,” toji smirks as you squirm underneath him, your expression pained, he hasn’t even bottomed out yet, and you ‘re already on the verge of tears, gasping and clawing at his back as he slowly inches in as you adjust to his girth before slowly pulling back out only to inch back in a little further again. he stops when he is barely halfway sheathed into your pussy, his hips stuttering when he feels just how tight you are, he’s had women before – loads of ‘em, he spends his hard-earned cash on typical prostitutes but none could ever compare to virgin-tight naive little school girls like you.

toji, the man assigned to hunt down your sister or so he haughtily said when he barged into your apartment this afternoon, is just so big, you could tell just from how he towered over you earlier, his hardened cock bulging through his grey sweatpants as he tells you to be quiet and just let him fondle your dripping cunt.

“w-won’t fit toji,” you whimpered helplessly, “y-you’re too big.”

“maybe if you stopped squeezing my damn cock it won’t hurt so much.”

toji wants to give in to the primal urge to just slam into you, impale you on his cock as he drills into your virgin-tight pussy, but he seems to be enjoying this little back and forth between you two — every time he sinks deeper into your soaking wet cunt, you instinctively try to move away for a bit, shying away from the discomfort, as if you didn’t want this when this rugged-looking mercenary politely asked if you could be his cocksleeve for today.

“c’mon, all you do is whine but you really just want me to stuff you full with my cum,” he tangles his fingers in your hair, angling his thrusts so that he could see the outline of his stiff cock on the skin of your lower midriff. he groans when your fingernails drag across his back when he picks up his already animalistic pace. “see that? hah, you’re practically sucking me in.”

you shake your head at his lewd words, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as he practically uses your body, holding you by the hips, slamming you down on his thick cock, his eyes intently watching the way his cock sinfully disappears into your hole with every sharp thrust. “to-oji! agh – s-slow down-n! y-you’ll break me—!” you whined pathetically, your hands finding his shoulders as you try to get him to slow down.

he crashes his lips onto yours, your forehead resting under his chin, relishing in the way you beg for him to slow down which somehow makes his already hardened member twitch in excitement. he always loves it when he’s a bitch’s first real fuck, unlike those stupid teenage boys that take more pleasure in having a woman do all the work.

“g-good,” he rasps, grunting into your ear as he begins to feel the familiar feeling of your walls spasming around his cock. “fuck yea — take my cock, good girl–“ he frenziedly jostles into you, admiring the way you moaned, the way your breasts bounced with every sharp movement, the way your head lolled from side to side as you fought your impending orgasm.

you sob, your toes curling, your back arching off from the bed, utterly vulnerable to your release. “not inside, p-please, n-not inside ngh— f-fuck, toji! ‘m there, ‘m cumming!”

toji tuts at your plea. “s-stupid girl,” he groans at your spasming body, his heavy balls tightening as he feels the first waves of his release. “agh,” he follows soon after you, groaning as thick ropes of his cum paint your walls, forever reminding you of the sickening fact that you just fucked your little sister’s assassin. toji languidly thrusts two more times, sloppily wiping your tears away, finally slowing down just as you begged, pushing his cum deeper into you, as he grunts into the crook of your neck, his cock twitching as it unloads the last of his release.

“y-you came inside,” you whimpered as toji rests on your dainty frame, still not pulling out.

the older man scoffs, kissing your collarbone. “shh, just take a pill later,” he hushes you and you don’t know why but he reminds you of the most charming of demons — wait but that’s because he is. nothing could be heard in the room other than your and Toji’s breathless pants. “but don’t think this changes anything.” he says after a while and you look up at him sleepily. “i still have to kill your sister.”

“but toji—“ your bottom lip quivers and you shiver when he plants a cold kiss between your brows, his scarred lip curling up into a sickening smile.

“—don’t worry, i’ll make it quick, as quick as i made you cum, that is.”

#toji zenin #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu toji #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x y/n #dilf toji #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader smut #toji x y/n smut #toji x you smut #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x reader smut #toji zenin smut #toji zenin x y/n smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons

[drowning-rat37]

☆ Mia/pvr9ing harm reduction and after care ☆

☆ps.- this is not tips on “how to do it better”, this is tips on how to not hurt your body too much while doing it. I am in no way suggesting anyone starts doing it, i am just saying if you are already doing it, try to stay safe❤️❤️❤️

☆anti-acids: if you’re planning to pvr9e, take a couple before you eat, it’ll reduce the acidity of your stomach acid, which in turn reduces the level of enamel loss and tooth decay as well as reducing the trauma on your oesophagus from the acid

☆short nails: if you use your fingers, keep your nails short to prevent scratching/cvtting your throat. Having short nails is also more hygienic as (even if you keep your nails clean) the underside of your nails can carry a lot of bacteria, (this is mainly found in children but has been known in adults) can carry types of worms under the nails. If you have long nails or false nails i recommend going on the utensil route

☆hand sanitizers or antibacterial soap: if you’re adamant that you don’t want to cut your nails short, clean under your nails thoroughly with hand sanitizer and wash ALL OF YOUR HANDS with antibacterial soap to avoid getting ill. Another thing to address about getting ill: you may think “if i get ill/sick then I won’t eat as much” or “i’ll be throwing up so no need for pvr9ing” in theory, great. In reality, it feels awful. I used to think that sort of way and then ever time i got ill i would feel like actual death, just stay clean and hygienic please🙏🙏🙏

☆water: after pvr9ing your body gets extremely dehydrated, make sure to drink enough water, also I recommend alkali water to reduce acid reflux. Take small sips every couple of minutes as to not make yourself feel more nauseous than you probably already are!!!

☆electrolytes: if possible, get yourself a drink with electrolytes or you can also get sachets that are sugar free and put that in water. In another post (i think i tagged it as an update post to a different post i have put a picture of some electrolyte water i bought, i really like that brand)

☆warnings: bl00d, feeling like you’re about to pass out, legs shaking, hands shaking. If you see any of those signs, take a break or stop all together, I’ll get into each signs in detail in a second.

☆utensils: if you’re not using your fingers, keep your utensils clean, weather its a toothbrush or cutlery or something different. Also please use something you know you can easily hold onto to prevent choking on it or letting go of it. If you’re using cutlery, find plastic cutlery, im not talking about the cheap flimsy ones, im talking about the thick type you can get from ikea or other places, make sure it’s rounded in the side you are putting in your mouth, again to not cause trauma to your throat. I can not stress this enough: use👏 something 👏 you👏 can👏 easily 👏 hold👏 on👏 to

☆tools: this is a follow up from the utensil. Please try not to use medication or other methods to induce vomiting, it is extremely dangerous. I have seen a lot of people (specifically on a certain clock app) talking about putting large amounts of salt in water and drinking it to induce vomiting, i can not stress this enough DO NOT DO THAT, it is so incredibly dangerous and by far the most unpleasant way to pvr9e. This is coming from someone who has tried almost ever way, including the salt method. It can cause long term health issues to consume that much salt even if you vomit it back up, there will still be a large amount left in your system which can lead to high blood pressure (which if you are pvr9ing often may already have) and generally if you are going to that extent to pvr9e, take a break from doing it, even if it is hard!!!!

☆food/chewing: make sure that what you’re eating before you pvr9e you chew really well, if you swallow large chunks, it will be hard to get up and you have a chance of choking and it will not be good and is very scary. Bread is especially hard to get up. Some foods should definitely be avoided, such as hard crunchy foods like tortilla chips/crisps, they are sharp once broken and in the time it takes for you to eat, then pvr9e, your body will not have broken it down enough and it WILL hurt coming back up. Try to stick to soft or quickly digest-able foods to avoid pain and trauma to the throat.

☆follow on to the warning signs ☆

☆Bl00d: if you pvr9e bl00d, genuinely stop, i know you might not want to but to avoid damage, stop. If it is anything above a few drops, I greatly suggest seeking medical attention asap. Give yourself a week or two to recover from that, it will be hard but it’s whats best for harm reduction!!!!(this is a very scary thing to experience, the first time it happened i was terrified however as you can see, i am alive, i didnt die although that still doesn’t mean you should just ignore it)

☆feeling like you’re about to pass out/ hands and legs shaking: believe me, you do not want to be found on the floor after pvr9ing. If you’re shaking, take a break, weather its 10 minutes or a couple days, take a break. If you feel shaky, that is a sign you are going to pass out, again, take a break. Sit down in a place you know you won’t hurt yourself if you do pass out, have a drink and rest for a moment!!! I know you don’t want to hear the “listen to your body bull shit” but in cases like this it is vital if you are genuinely trying to avoid permanent damage or injuries of any kind!

☆Thank you for reading, stay safe. My dm’s are open if you need help or advice. If you need to reach out to your local helpline don’t hesitate, you’re weak for reaching out for help!!! ☆

@mamabearwonders

#4n0r3xia #male ed #ana male #boy ana #ed boy #i want to ⭐️ve #⭐️ving #mean$p0 #th1n$pø #ana y mia #tw mia #ana miaa #bulim14 #tw purge #🕯️as a feather #🕯️as a 🪶 #rat3737

[thebibliosphere]

Do you have any thoughts/resources on the meds vs herbs/alt vs traditional debate? Only if you have them easily accessible, I don’t wan’t to cause trouble.

That is a very broad subject and one I have touched on numerous times as a chronically ill person who was also worked in holistic therapies for several years. (Side effect of being raised in an anti-medicine new age cult adjacent environment.)

In brief, I’m a firm believer that both have their place and can complement each other well when used appropriately.

The tl;dr version: I don’t believe enough people respect things like herbalism in the way they should because it is potent and not without side effects and too many people treat holistic as meaning harmless.

I see far too many people making herbal recommendations without either enough knowledge about interactions (either with other herbs or meds) or medical learning to be giving that kind of unsolicited advice.

For example, someone with IBS may find relief from fennel and peppermint tea and prefer it over having to take meds every day, but that same method may not apply to other forms of gastric distress (for example: peppermint can actively worsen acid reflux) or disease requiring greater medical intervention. Heck, the same may not even apply to someone else with IBS either. It depends on the individual and their needs.

I also believe that herbalism and things like essential oils need to be better regulated, especially the wellness mlm cults like doTerra and Young Living to name a few. But that’s a rant I’ve already covered numerous times and got harassed for by the wellness girlies.

[3d-wifey]

And They'd Find Us in A Week - Chapter 12

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 8.4k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! Tag list: - @melancholicmelanin, @yvy1s, @glomp-me, @honethatty12, @swftlore, @hashcakes, @antoheartit, @finnickodaddy, @lilifl0wer, @antoheartit, @kermitcrimess, @persophonekarter, @aawdrea, @obaewankenobis, @xyxlyn, @meandurdaughtergotaspecialthing, @innercreationflower, @kisskittenn Chapter Summary: There's a certain kind of pain in reading or watching something from the perspective of a character who doesn't know about the tragedy ahead of them. It's like watching a scary movie and going, "No, don't go to sleep! He's behind the door!" Like in The Song of Achilles, we all know how the original story ends. We know how the actual prophecy plays out. We know that the moment Patroclus's heart stops, Hector and Achilles fates are set in stone. You wince whenever Achilles says he has no reason to kill Hector because "What has Hector done to me?" You want to tell him that Hector will do the unforgivable to him. You want to tell Patroclus not to go on the field. Tell Achilles to get his damned head out of his ass as he disguises Patroclus as himself because he is at risk of losing something far more important than his pride. You hold your breath as Patroclus is speared in the back and as Achilles realizes the consequences of his actions. You knew it was coming, and yet, you still read the story because a part of you hoped. You hoped for the hopeless. All this to say that knowing and still having hope regardless is crueler than complete ignorance. A/N: I imagined your stylist as Anne Hathaway in Alice in Wonderland.

Past (xiii) - You [22 & 23] - THE CAPITOL

If you were from any other district, maybe it would have surprised you how attached Rue is to you. But the sense of community in Eleven breeds this need for kinship. You’re social creatures; you’re not meant to be on your own. Certainly not in a place like the Capitol. It’s how you end up hugging your knees to your chest, an unnamed ocean projected on your wall as you try to get lost in the tides the night before the tributes will be marched into the arena.

No one talks about this part, or maybe they just don’t want to think about it. The part where being forced back into the room you slept in during your own Games eats at you—that anxiety that courses through your veins and leaves your body thrumming. Because no matter what you tell yourself, your body isn’t entirely convinced that you won’t be the one entering the arena tomorrow. You close your eyes and suddenly you’re fifteen again, gripping the sheets so hard you could tear holes in them as you fight the vomit threatening to ride the wave of acid reflux.

Sleeping beside Finnick helped. He reminded you that you weren’t fifteen and alone and wishing you’d die in your sleep so you wouldn’t be slaughtered live. And now? Well, at least there’ll always be the ocean.

There’s a knock on your door, so tentative that you would have missed it if you weren’t already so keyed up.

You pause the projection of the ocean, assuming the sound woke someone up. You get up and go to open it, only to see Rue. Suddenly you’re shamefaced and embarrassed, like you’ve been caught doing something pathetic, even though it’s doubtful she even knows what the sound was, let alone the significance of you listening to it.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Was I being too loud?”

“No.” She shakes her head, shifting from foot to foot. “Um, I couldn’t sleep. And I just—I saw that your light was on and thought maybe you couldn’t sleep either?”

That may be true, but you don’t think it’s the only reason. Rue is the oldest of six and they all live in Shacktown. With all those people in one house, you’re sure Rue’s never slept alone a day in her life. It makes you wonder how she managed these past few days.

You’re an only child; your dad was killed before your parents could have any more, so you can’t say for certain that you understand what she feels. Yet, you reminisce on the fact that you’ve never really gone through a year of mentoring without Finnick being within arm’s reach.

She stares up at you with those big, pleading puppy-dog eyes, and you twist your mouth to the side.

“C’mon.” You move so you aren’t blocking the entrance anymore and you nod your head towards your room. “How ‘bout you sleep in here with me tonight? You don’t have to, of course, but we might as well stay up together.”

You know you’ve made the right choice when she grins big, rushes in, and takes a running start to jump on your bed. You shake your head fondly as she scurries to get under the blanket, lying down with them pulled under her arms and getting comfortable like she belongs there. The door slides shut behind you and you twist the dimmer until the only light comes from the projector. You settle into your bed beside Rue and you can’t help but snort at how she keeps smiling at you.

“So…What were you watching?”

“Uh.” You pick the remote up to unmute the device and the sound of crashing ocean waves fills any remaining silence. “The ocean.”

She looks over, seemingly transfixed by the drag and pull of the water. The nearest ocean to Eleven is the one that rests just outside of the towering fence and only serves as a deterrent for escaping. This very well may be her first time seeing one outside of a textbook. “Why?”

“Well, I,” you let out a weighted breath, "I thought it would make me feel better. Help me sleep.”

“Oh.” Says Rue and then she looks at you. “Why?”

You let out a surprised laugh. “Um. I guess the ocean reminds me of my friend and—I don’t know. It’s just easier to sleep with him around."

“Is he your crush?” Crush? Such an innocent question feels surprisingly weighted considering your current relationship with Finnick. Or lack thereof. Is it a crush now that it’s unrequited?

“I love him.” You tell the wall and it’s the sad truth. You still do. You wouldn’t be so hung up if you didn’t.

"Whoa. You like like him.” Like like. It’s been years since you heard that. It brings to mind how young she is. It’s not as if you needed another reminder. “It’s okay, I won’t tell. I like someone too.”

“Oh? And what’s his name?” You smile. You both flip over to face each other. You picture little you and little Sage, shyly holding hands during downtime, and find yourself hoping this boy liked Rue back.

“You can’t tell anyone.” She narrows her eyes and makes you swear, which you do with a pinky promise. “Coriander.” Her voice goes all quiet and timid as she hides her face and you wonder if you’ve ever seen anything cuter.

“Ah, I think I might know him.” She looks at you with wide eyes as you tease her, peering out from between her fingers.

“Nuh-uh, no way.” She denies it as you tap a finger on your chin and pretend to think about it.

“No, no. I think I do. He’s got pink hair, no teeth, and walks with a waddle, right?”

“No!” She giggles and you can’t help but giggle along with her. You take a moment.

“Finnick. The boy I like.” You provide when she looks confused. “His name is Finnick.”

“Oh! Oh! Is he that boy from Four? The victor?” It’s hardly shocking that she recognizes him. He’s one of ‘the greats’. You nod and she gasps like that’s the juiciest piece of gossip she’s ever heard.

“He’s pretty.” She whispers.

“He is.” You laugh.

“Is he nice?”

“The nicest,” you say without thought or contempt. Finnick’s indeed been nothing but kind to you since you’ve met him, current behavior not included. You find that even when you’re mad at him, you can’t actually disparage him. And you don’t want to lie to Rue. “He made me this." You lift your wrist and show her your bracelet. You’ve been wearing it around your ankle while you’re out in public, but when you’re on your own, it goes back to its rightful place.

“Cori made something for me too.”

She pulls her necklace up for you to see. It’s woven grass attached to a wooden charm shaped like a flower—you squint—or maybe a star? Definitely the handiwork of a child. Adorable. It reminds you of Cane.

“Your token?”

“Yep. He gave it to me when everyone came to see me off after I was reaped. He ran all the way home and back to give it to me. He almost didn’t get back in time, but I waited for him. I knew he’d come, and that’s why it’s good luck.”

“Makes sense.” You nod and she nods with you, like she’s happy that you get her logic. “He must like you a lot to go through all that.”

“Yeah. He’s sweet.” She smiles, fidgeting with the charm.

“I bet he is.” You push some of her curls out of her face. Just two doomed girls talking about their equally doomed crushes.

It’s silent for a moment; ocean noises make your eyes feel heavier with the pull of each tide. You watch as the shadows cast from the projector paint the ceiling in a series of swirling blues. You think you can see Finnick’s favorite color hidden amongst the other shades.

“Were you scared? When you went into the arena?” Rue asks and you still can’t find it in yourself to lie to her.

“Terrified.”

“Really? You’re so brave though?” She sounds so genuinely confused that you have to hold back your laughter. You don’t want her to think you're making fun of her. You appreciate the vote of confidence. It’s more than you have in yourself.

“I think…being brave means doing something even if you are terrified.” You look away from the ceiling to make eye contact. “It’s okay to be scared, Rue. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” She mumbles like she doesn’t actually believe it.

“I think you’re incredibly brave.” You know she regularly went foraging for food for her siblings, and she took on more hours than what was required of her. Who knows how many times she’s entered her name for Tesserae?

And she’s still so young.

“Really?”

“Oh, definitely.” You laugh at her skepticism. You’ve laughed more with Rue in the short time you’ve had with her than in the last two years combined. Sadly, there hasn’t been much of a reason for you to. Realizing that this is the last night you two will laugh together is devastating. “I was fifteen and I felt like I was on the edge of breaking down the entire time. How are you so calm?” She’s only twelve years old—not even a teenager. If you were in her shoes, you’d have dehydrated yourself from how much you were crying.

“I am scared, but…" She drags out the ‘uh’, then shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t feel real.”

“Hmm. I get that.” You don’t tell her that it won’t start feeling real until she either wins or dies. It’ll only make her feel worse. She closes her eyes and you two are quiet for a time—so long that you think she’s fallen asleep.

Her voice is small when she asks, “Can I hold your hand?”

“Of course.” You hold your right one out for her to take, and her little fingers lace with yours. Her palms are callused too. Not as much as yours. No, she’ll never have enough time to catch up to yours.

Rue moves closer to you and you wrap your left arm around her. You feel her say your name more than you hear it and you hum in response. “Thank you.”

You pull her closer to your chest, your linked hands resting between you. “Of course, sweetheart.” You say this into the crown of her head, wishing that you could have done more for her and Thresh—wishing you weren’t so helpless.

But you can do this. You can give her this last comfort, this last embrace from home. You hold her tight as you both fall asleep and you only let her go when they come to take her away in the morning.

You do not cry.

-

You miss him, you decide one day. You thought you hated him after you got through your self-pity, but the words "hate" and "Finnick" are too oxymoronic to ever stay together for long. You were so angry at yourself, angry at the world, but you sat with that anger long enough to know what it truly was. Grief. You miss him the way you'd miss a limb. You're so used to having it that you only remember it's gone when you notice the space it used to occupy and feel the phantom aches of what it used to be—what you used to have and took for granted.

Chaff has described in detail the pain of losing his hand. But, he said, nothing hurts worse than remembering it’s not there.

You've never taken Morphling and you don't know anyone personally who's gotten hooked on it, but you imagine this is what withdrawal feels like. You haven't seen him since before he sent that letter, and it feels like he's actively avoiding you. You said years ago, after Annie's Games, that you could handle just being his friend if he decided he didn’t want you anymore. But he never gave you the chance.

That’s alright. It’s perfectly fine. You know when you’re not wanted around, you can take a hint.

Maybe it's for the best. There’s no telling what you would do if you ran into him again. Something pathetic, probably, like begging him to take you back. There's a specific moment when you really feel your loss. A few days into the 74th Hunger Games. Chaff is finalizing the transaction with the money Eleven gathered to send bread for Rue and Thresh, so you’re on your own. 

“Your girl is something else.” You tell Haymitch from where you stand beside him, arms crossed, as you split your attention between him and the Games.

He cocks his head slightly, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, then returns to watching Katniss and Rue rehearse their strategy. “I can say the same to you.” You hadn’t expected Rue to team up with anyone, but you can’t say you are surprised that it’s Katniss. The girl did volunteer for her little sister, after all. Primrose, was it? But you’re concerned that your little speech about being brave by doing things that terrify you may have swayed her to come out of hiding and help Katniss.

You can’t take full credit, though. Rue—well, she’s far too kind for her own good.

You look him over, a glass of something alcoholic in one hand while the other remains buried in his pocket. Honestly, you’ve never seen him this invested in the Games before, but you could hazard a guess why. You weren’t just blowing smoke up his ass about Katniss. She’s honestly got a pretty good shot of winning, if not making it to the top five. She’s already a fan favorite, along with Rue, Peeta, Glimmer, and Cato. She’s exceeded your expectations, along with Haymitch’s. No wonder he’s been networking his ass off. If she’s actually got a chance at surviving this, he owes it to her to try.

That’s when it happens.

Rue’s screams echo in your ears as Katniss races through the forest. Something has gone wrong—she's been captured or the Careers are using her as bait, or—you wipe your sweaty hands on your dress and then recross them, wanting more than anything to bite at the skin around your nails. You hold your breath, hoping beyond hope that she’s saved from whatever fate has befallen her.

She’s by herself in the clearing. Caught in a net, but not hurt. Katniss manages to get Rue out and your muscles begin to untense, but the relief is incredibly short-lived. 

Marvel, that cocky little boy from two, throws his spear with deadly precision, lance soaring past Katniss to pierce Rue in the abdomen.

Your hands are numb as they cover your mouth, but then you remember where you are and drop them just as quickly. She pulls the spear from her chest and you want to yell at her not to, that taking it out will only make her bleed quicker. Like it even matters at all when she’ll bleed out regardless. You think you need to sit down.

Katniss catches her before she falls. You’re lightheaded.

Katniss sings to her after she whispers something that the mics can’t pick up and it feels like your heart is being wrung dry. You think of Rue’s mother. You think of her six siblings, who all look up to her. You think of Coriander. You think of how small she felt in your arms and how tightly she held your hand. You think of a lot of things in the time it takes for her heart to stop beating.

The cannon fires and all eyes go to you. Ranging from curious to pitying. Some are even tearful. She was a fan favorite, after all. Mentors and Capitols alike split their attention between you and the screens to catch your reaction, but your face is deceptively blank. You stare ahead silently, your eyes unseeing as they remain on the screen.

You will not give them the pleasure of seeing you break down. Katniss will leave and Rue’s body will be airlifted out and that will be the end of it.

This is nothing new for you. You’ve gone through this twelve other times. Why would she be any different? She isn't. You tell that to your shaky hands and they only tremble further. You tell your heavy lungs and they only get heavier. You try telling your chilly skin, but all it does is make you feel colder. Why is she different?

You want to close your eyes as Katniss grieves. To be able to save one little girl but not another, it must weigh heavy.

“I’m so sorry." Someone comes to stand beside you, some Capitol elite. “One less chance for your district to win.” You look at him from the corner of your eye and Haymitch scoffs on your other side. For one stupid moment, you thought he was offering his condolences.

“Right. Well. There’s still Thresh.” He nods along to your words, thoughtful, like you’re talking about the likelihood of a horse winning a race.

“Yes, he’s the big one, right? I have money riding on him or Cato winning.” Of course, he remembers his name and not Thresh’s. You close your eyes before they can roll out of your head. “I’d like to send him something to eat as a sponsor. I worry—what is she doing?” You open your eyes to see what tribute has captured his attention, only to see Katniss again. But she’s still with Rue, kneeling next to her body with an armful of flowers—

“She’s giving her a funeral.” You bite your bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Rue rests on a bed of flowers—white daisies and lavender. She tucks a bouquet of daisies in her little hands and you wonder if Katniss knows the significance that being surrounded by flowers has for your people. Or maybe that’s something your two districts have in common. All that’s missing is fruit and it would be a proper Eleven funeral.

A funeral for a little girl. Your heart grows heavy with that realization and your mouth curls into a scowl.

You shouldn’t think about how she clung to you before she was sent into the arena. You shouldn’t think of Coriander’s childish hope dying with her. You shouldn’t think about her family watching this. You shouldn’t think of how her mother woke up this morning with six children and will go to sleep with only five. You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t—

“Oh, how sweet.” The man coos.

“Yes.” Katniss faces the camera, kisses her three middle fingers, and salutes the cameras—salutes District Eleven. You don’t think of Coriander sprinting to the train clutching a grass-woven necklace with a good-luck charm that wasn’t very lucky. “Very sweet."

On instinct, you reach to the left for Finnick, but there's no hand to hold other than your own.

You need Finnick, and he isn’t here and for the first time since you've become a mentor, you have to brave the games by yourself and shoulder your grief alone. 

“Kid…” A flinch rolls through you at the unexpected voice, and you look to your left at Haymitch’s face as he goes through a range of emotions before settling on sympathy. No. Empathy. For a moment, you forgot he was beside you. But he hasn’t forgotten you. 

He does something that surprises you again. He places a big hand on the nape of your neck, warm and callused, and squeezes. You exhale sharply, your face twisting minutely, and it’s the closest thing to crying that you’ll allow yourself to do. He pulls you into his side, and it’s a battle not to burrow into him—a battle you lose. Your image will allow you to do this much. Allow you to be comforted while many of the other Capitols in the room do the same thing because it’s all very sad. You wrap your arms around his waist from where you’re held tight against his side and his hand goes down to rub your back soothingly.

No words are said between you two, and that’s enough. It has to be. Past (xiii) - Finnick 

[22 & 23] - DISTRICT FOUR Finnick has never felt worse.

The sky is clear, the stars are bright, and Finnick has never felt worse.

It’s a particularly quiet night on the beach. There’s no one walking along the shore, no bonfires, no night swimming. There’s only Finnick. 

He sits with his legs crossed under him; the coarse sand is warm against the exposed skin of his legs and feet. He’s always been able to come down to the beach to think and unload any weight on his shoulders. With how heavy his heart feels, he’s never needed that release more. A cool breeze carries the smell of the ocean, but it’s not as comforting as it should be. 

He reaches into the ornate box sitting between his thighs and just rests his hand there, letting his fingers ghost over the pages upon pages of parchment paper. He’s kept a tight lid on this box, hoarding your letters and your scent inside like a corvid. Even now, outside on the shore, your smell wafts around him—concentrated and stiff. He blinks past the tears in his eyes.

He doesn’t look inside; he doesn’t think he can handle it. To see the length of your relationship measured by words on paper, to know he’ll never be adding to this box again—it’s too much.

He pulls out a letter at random. 

His eyes have already readjusted to the darkness as he uses the moonlight to read. He traces the looping lines of your handwriting. 

This is the letter you sent along with that pretty picture of yourself in case he forgot what you look like. A beautiful sentiment, but largely unnecessary. Finnick knows your reflection as well as he knows his own, if not better. Even now, with all this space, time, and hurt between the two of you, he could draw your portrait blindfolded. Not that anything could ever live up to the real thing. Nothing can compare to you.

He sighs, twisting his bracelet around his wrist absently. He feels the cool grooves of the fish charm between his thumb and pointer finger as he looks at the stars. There are more stars than there are grains of sand. Each tiny, flickering dot is a blazing inferno, the likes of which he can hardly comprehend. They don’t shine nearly as brightly as you do in his memory. 

He just…he just wishes he could have told you that.

Unconsciously, his eyes fall on Cassiopeia. Punished for boasting about the beauty of her daughter. It’s not fair. Her only crime was loving her child, and for that, she was forced to give her up for the safety of her kingdom.

Sacrificing someone you love for the greater good. He can’t tell if he wants to scoff, scream, or cry. Maybe all three.

Are you looking at the same sky as him? Even now, are the two of you still connected? Is it cruel to hope for that? It has to be, but Finnick has found that he's grown rotten in his misery. Rotten and incredibly selfish. 

Over the past year, you’ve sent him letter after letter and he read each one with ravenous eyes—desperate for you in any way he could have you. You were angry, you were hurt, you were confused. You alternated between begging him and demanding him to reply. So he did. Of course, he did. He could never deny you anything.

He just never sent any of them.

He kept them stashed in a drawer, locked away so he didn’t have to look at them—wouldn’t have to look at his bleeding heart. It wasn’t healthy; he knows that, but still. He just wanted to pretend, just for a little while, that everything was back to normal. That he hadn’t ripped out his soul by tearing yours apart. 

Those letters had been a constant staple in his life for nearly seven years, and—he was going to wean himself off of it, off of you, really, he was. 

But he never got the chance to before they stopped coming a few months ago. They just stopped.

He should be happy about that. He should be pleased that you're moving on. He should be a lot of things that he's not, but, as it turns out, he’s getting pretty fucking sick of performing for an empty audience. You've given up on him, and you have every right to, but— 

God, it hurts.

It’s for the best. It’s what he wanted—no, it’s what he needed to happen for both of you. And it’s certainly better than the alternative Snow offered.

Knowing all that doesn’t make it hurt any less; it doesn’t make the pain any easier to bear.

He takes out another letter, and it’s…it’s the first one? The first letter you left him after you spent the night in his room. He remembers waking up on the floor, tired and raw from that conversation on the balcony. He was fully prepared to act like it never happened. He was a little disappointed to wake up alone, but he was sure that it only proved that you wanted to forget about it too. Imagine his surprise when he rolled over—not to the empty space he was expecting, but to a note on your pillow.

I really appreciate…

Thank you for…

Just thank you.

He was left floored. He was seventeen years old and he couldn’t remember the last time anyone thanked him for anything.

Finnick brings the note to his nose and your perfume floods his senses, drowning him in memories. Memories of long train rides home from the Capitol, his only company being the smell of you on his clothes.

And try as he might, he can’t forget. He can still feel the blood caked under his fingernails and flaking at his wrist. Can still feel the warmth of your beating heart in his hand after he ripped it out. That’s his punishment. Remembering it all, good and bad.

He’s broken from his musing by the crunching of sand approaching him from behind.

“You’ve been out here for hours. Aren’t you cold?” Annie's soft-spoken voice is almost lost in the wind. No. He isn’t. He’s the exact opposite, actually. He’s scorching from the inside out. He’s burning bright and hot and one day he’ll implode under the weight of it all like a supernova. The only respite he can imagine is the cool relief of your touch. He’s scared he’ll forget what that feels like. 

She sighs when he doesn’t answer. “We know you’re hurting, Finnick, and we’re worried. You can talk to us. You don’t have to just…talk to your letters. We’re here for you.”

He doesn’t look up; he doesn’t have the strength to, but he nods anyway. Of course, they can tell he’s hurting. A blind man could spot his suffering from a mile away. He hadn’t bothered to hide it outside of the Capitol.

“...Try not to stay out here too long, okay?

Annie squeezes his shoulder before walking back up the beach, leaving him alone, and he's thankful. She shouldn't have to see him like this. She shouldn't have to see him break down. 

I'm allowed to, he thinks, I'm in mourning.

But how can he mourn something he killed?

He reaches into the box one more time, pulling out a stray scrap of paper and a pen. His hands shake along with his shoulders, his handwriting so bad that only he and you would be able to understand it. He writes:

Dear Heart,

I don’t know who Finnick Odair is without his love for you.

Every day, I think I can’t possibly miss you more than I already do. And then another day passes and I prove myself wrong.

Is there a fate crueler than this?

I just want to see you again. I just want to hold you again. One last glance, one last smile, one last laugh, one last kiss. If I knew the last time I saw you would be the LAST time I saw you, I never would have blinked. I’d have made the moment last forever. But forever isn’t nearly enough, is it?

Do you think you could ever forgive me?

-I love you I love you I love you,

Finn

Present (XI) - Finnick

[23 & 24] - THE CAPITOL; ELEVENTH FLOOR

“I thought I’d find you here."

“Haymitch.” Finnick leans in the doorway of your room, wiping sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He wanted to stay awake and bask in the little time he had left with you, but he hadn’t slept next to you in so long and it felt like he was lured in.

“Listen,” the man rubs at his scruff, “it’s not what I came here for, but I’m happy you two figured out whatever the hell…” He trails off with a particularly constipated look, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of your room.

“...Right. Thanks.” Finnick clears his throat. “I’m, uh, I’m happy too.”

“Yeah…Anyway.” He sighs. “There've been a few last-minute adjustments to the plan.”

That wakes Finnick up, his mind running over what Haymitch has already told him to do in the arena. “Oh, should I wake Star—”

“No, no. This is just for you. We realized you’d have no way of knowing when you should be heading to the pickup point, especially since things out here can change on a dime.” He steps closer, burying his hands in his pockets. “Once all of the necessary players are gathered in the arena, a sponsor gift will be sent down, probably some kind of food. Pay attention to the district and the amount that’s sent.”

Finnick squints. “Why?”

“The district tells you the day we’re coming and the amount tells you the hour—do not get the two mixed up.” Haymitch raises a hand, staring Finnick down until he nods. 

“Alright, I won’t. And the pickup point?”

“When in doubt, Beetee will know.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s sure working behind the scenes and acting as a messenger is harrowing work, especially with Snow on such high alert. “Our girl managed to get in Peeta’s good graces. Not that I’m surprised; they probably bonded over how ‘fun’ and'rewarding' it is to help the less fortunate or something. Having her plus Beetee and Wiress will definitely give Johanna and Blight some credibility in Katniss’s eyes. You, on the other hand, are gonna need to rely on something other than your good looks and Mags.” He fishes a flash of gold out of his pocket—some kind of bracelet.  

Finnick takes it gingerly, examining how the light makes it shimmer.

“Take it into the arena as a token. Show it to her, preferably before she shoots you between the eyes. And, shit, if that doesn’t work, ask her…tell her to remember who the real enemy is.”

He wants to ask what that means outside of this very specific context; he wants to know what this bracelet means to him and Katniss if just seeing it will be enough for her to make him an ally. But he doesn’t. He feels like it’ll bring on more questions than it’ll answer.

“I’m gonna need you to hold onto something for me then.” He reaches into one of the deep pockets along his billowy pants until he feels the familiar shape against his fingers. He’s almost hesitant to give it away. When the Quell was announced, he was sure he would die with it on him. But it’s a part of you and he can’t take the chance of it getting destroyed. “It’s, um. It’s a photo she gave to me a few years back, I always carry it on me—”

“You don’t need to explain.” When it’s handed to him, Haymitch takes a moment to look at you. Finnick feels a little self-conscious of how faded it is from years of him running his fingers along your face—faded from years of being well loved. “I’ll make sure she gets back to you.” He’s careful when placing your photo in his pocket and Finnick feels relieved that there’s someone on the outside who wants to get you out of the arena just as much as he does.

“Good luck, kid.” He squeezes Finnick’s shoulder and hesitates. His eyes shift to the walkway that leads to where you’re resting. “When she wakes up, tell her…Tell her I said…” He trails off, his face severe, and Finnick understands painfully well.

“I will.” He promises. Haymitch purses his lips before giving a nod. Finnick watches his back as he leaves and wonders if that will be the last conversation he has with the man, one of his oldest friends.

Present (XI) - You 

[23 & 24] - THE CAPITOL; THE ARENA “Your tracker.” The Peacekeeper yanks your arm up wordlessly and waits for you to pull your sleeve back. You squint around the sharp pain as he jabs the needle into your forearm, burying the tracking device under your skin. You glare at his back and rub at your now-raised skin. 

You grip the straps of your seatbelt as the hovercraft begins its ascent.

As relayed from Haymitch to Finnick to you, Peeta brought you up as an ally, and, luckily enough, Katniss wasn't against the idea. It might have something to do with the conversation you and she had before the Chariot Rides or maybe it’s the fact that you're the only person Peeta suggested. It hadn't been your intention to get on his good side when you offered to train him, but you're glad you did. It makes your job that much easier.

“It's a very breathable, lightweight material, so I’m thinking of a humid environment, maybe tropical. Large bodies of water for certain. Have you decided on a token?" Your stylist pipes up from her seat beside you.

“Oh. Yeah.” You lift your hand to show her the blue bracelet sitting snugly on your wrist. She gasps and you pull your wrist away, looking around the carrier for anything that could be the cause of the sound. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing!” She waves you off with a flippant hand. “It’s just, I didn’t think I’d see you wear that bracelet again. I know Finnick never took his off, but—” You yank your arm back against your chest, holding your bracelet almost as if you can hide it.

"Wha-what..how do you, how…?”

“Us stylists confide in each other, and, well, those of us behind the scenes thought the two of you were just so cute together! I never saw you without that bracelet for five years straight and then one day, it was just gone. Poof! Oh, we were worried sick something happened with you two. But now it’s back!” She cheers, clapping her hands.

You gape at her. “You…you knew? All of you? And you never…?” Never leaked the gossip to the tabloids? To Snow?

“What? Heavens no! We're not heartless, dear. It wasn't our place. Besides,” she leans over, her crimson-painted lips pulled into a smile as she pats your thigh. Her eyes are glossy enough that you’re almost certain she’ll start crying. “You two deserve to be happy.”

You nod stiltedly, rocked by this new information. Did Finnick know? No. If either of you did, you would have been a bit nicer to your stylists. You’re quiet for the rest of the flight as she talks to you. This time around, you do try to listen to what she’s saying, nodding along at the right moments to show you’re paying attention. It’s a bit late, but you feel like you owe it to her.

She walks you down to the tube that’ll take you to the arena.

“This is it, my dear.” She sniffs, raising a hand to her mouth as she actually starts crying now. “Oh, I’m a mess. I’m sorry.” She apologizes, fanning her pale face. You don’t think about it too hard; instead, you step toward her and pull her into a tentative hug.

“It’s okay, Shimmer,” you comfort her. “And for what it’s worth, thank you.”

“It’s not okay. It’s not fair at all.” You let her squeeze you tight, allowing the hug to go on longer than you normally would. She inhales and then pulls away. She holds you by your shoulders and takes you in. “It’s been an honor working with you, my dear.”

“Same here.” You smile, but it feels more like a grimace.

You step onto the platform.

The door slides shut behind you and you start feeling sick as you rise. Sick enough that you worry you might vomit before you even make it into the arena. Your heart beats in your teeth. It’s starting to dawn on you, you realize, just how fucked you are. There’s the revolution, but there’s no guarantee you’ll even live long enough to be saved. You’ve been training like crazy, not that it was that hard with the way you grew up. It’s one thing to use your skills for physical labor; it’s another to use them in a fight to the death. That wasn’t how you survived your Games.

You hold your breath, gathering and reminding yourself of what’s important. The plan. And the plan hinges on you getting to the Cornucopia and surviving.

Your stylist tearfully waves you off as you rise, her elaborate and puffy white gown the last you see of her. You look up at the hole of light as you approach it, your nails digging into your palm.

The drastic temperature change makes you shiver and squint, raising your hand to block the blinding rays of the sun. This heat is different from the kind you’re used to. Heavier, somehow even more humid than Eleven’s muggy summers. The sun disorients you and the little wind that comes through carries the smell of salt. You push through the fog of your senses and force yourself to see.

There’s water—a shit ton of it. Saltwater if your nose is to be trusted. Shimmer was right.

The first thing you do is look for Finnick. You can’t help yourself; the need to know where he is is stronger than your need to acclimate. Your gaze bounces from tribute to tribute in your search for him. Sweat is already gathering on your brow when you finally find him. You see him, but only barely, on your left. He’s about three sections away, close enough that you make eye contact with him. It’s brief and fleeting, but long enough for your stomach to settle and your heartbeat to slow. 

You’re all divided by rocky strips of land that protrude from the island the Cornucopia rests on like the spokes of a wheel. And in between each spoke are two tributes. That would mean there are twelve sections.

Mentally, you try to map out where everyone is. You note that Finnick is standing beside Chaff.

On your immediate left is Johanna, sectioned off from you by the long line of rocks. You nod at each other and relief courses through you knowing you won’t have to search for her. Beetee stands with Cecilia in between Finnick and Johanna’s respective sections. Was this placement intentional or just luck?

With half of your group near you, your eyes rove around for the missing two and—

“Shit.” You curse. You’ll have to go looking for Wiress. That’s the first part of the plan: Johanna gets Beetee, you get Wiress, and Blight waits for the four of you away from the Cornucopia. You’re lucky to be placed next to Beetee and Johanna, but it would have been nice if Wiress was a little closer. Or within your line of sight, at least.

“Let the 75th Hunger Games begin. May the odds be ever in your favor.” 

The sound of Ceasar’s cohost echoes throughout the arena and you rush to gather more information. On your immediate right is the woman from Nine, about the same distance from you as the strip of land on your left. You know she never stepped foot in the training center, so you’re confident in the fact that she isn’t a threat. A little further down are Peeta and the man from Ten. You do a double-take. You hadn’t expected him to be so close to you and you have to force yourself to ignore him. You beat back the instinct to watch him like a hawk; that isn’t your job right now—it’s Mags and Finnick’s. The next section houses Woof and Mags and beside them are Enobaria and the female morphling. That’s as far down as you can see.

Your muscles tense up when he begins the countdown. 

You take stock of your surroundings. Before you is the Cornucopia, and behind you is a beach and a deep forest—no, a jungle. The large body of water surrounding your platform looks pretty clear. Nothing but fish and plants, you’re sure. It’s doubtful they’d put anything deadly in there. Not when so many of the tributes can’t do anything more than doggy paddle. And certainly not this early into the Games. What an odd choice to have water this deep. Especially considering how rare a skill swimming is in the districts.

You watch the red, rotating cube as it flashes down to one, your muscles poised like a spring as you prepare to jump. You take a breath and dive in.

Deep in the woods behind the shack your family used to call home, there was a lake in an area the Peacekeepers seldom patrolled. That’s where your dad taught you to swim. You haven’t done it in a long time, not since before he was killed. You’re more than a little rusty and you wish you had aimed a little more to your left.

The cold water is a shock to your system, but you don’t have time to stay idle. You don’t sink to the bottom like you think you will; you’ve forgotten how much lighter water makes your body. The salt in the water burns your eyes every time you try to open them so you squint and swim towards where you think the strip of land is. It’s a battle. The distance, while a problem on its own, is nothing compared to the strength of the waves. 

You’re panting by the time you make it there, shaky fingers grappling with the wet rocks as you pull yourself up, thanking your forethought to focus on training your upper body strength. The woman from Nine had jumped in the opposite direction, aiming for the beach instead of the Cornucopia. Smart. You’d do the same, but you need a weapon and you need to find Wiress. You push your water-laden hair out of your eyes, getting your feet under you and taking off towards the Cornucopia. 

You're surprised when you make it across without slipping. You have to make the split-second decision between getting a weapon or looking for Wiress first. You glance behind you, and no one seems that adept in the water on your side. Johanna is just now clawing her way out of the waves. You guess there aren’t many reasons to swim in Seven. You make a run for the mouth of the Cornucopia with the sound of cannon fire chasing you and you hope to God that no one sets their sights on Wiress. You glance to your right, and you can blurrily make out Finnick, Katniss, and Mags helping Peeta out of the water.

You skid to a stop, your legs freezing without your actual input.

“Finnick!” You yell, and his head whips up before you fully get his name out. The water weighs his hair down, turning it a darker blond than you’re used to seeing it. You aren’t entirely sure why you called out for him. Maybe it was more for his comfort than yours; he’ll need to know that you weren’t the cause of one of the cannons firing. 

“Star!” He grasps his trident tighter, scanning your surroundings for potential threats. When he sees none, his shoulders relax but his trident remains poised in anticipation.

He looks from you to his group and back again. You shake your head to stop him from taking that step forward. It was only three hours ago that you last saw him. And before that, the two of you stayed up talking about nothing until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. Nonetheless, the desire to run to him is strong. You can see him fight that same impulse you do. When the cannon fires again, Finnick leaps into action, nodding at you with an uncertain gleam in his eyes before placing Mags on his back. 

You watch them all run for the jungle before getting your weapon. You spot a scythe propped up with spears and tridents and can tell immediately that it was planted for you. You take a second to analyze it distrustfully. A metal handle and a deeply curved blade, undoubtedly for show rather than harvesting. You won’t take it. It’s big and cumbersome, and it’ll slow you down in this kind of terrain. Plus, the strength needed to wield this in an actual fight is beyond you. Someone like Chaff or Brutus would get far more use out of it. Maybe even Finnick, if his trident ever fails him. It’ll just tire you out.

Instead, you opt for the twin sickles hanging next to it. They’re also bigger than any you’ve seen in Eleven. With their thick, smooth wooden handles, the blades are sharper than any you have ever used. Their weight will take some getting used to. When you notice more tributes orienting themselves on the rocks behind you, you decide the time for contemplation is over. 

You sprint to your left, eyes scouring the water for a small brunette woman. Wiress is on the other side of the Cornucopia, more floating in the water than swimming.

“Wiress!” You call. She waves her hands as if you can’t see her and you nod, weary of attracting unwanted attention. Luckily, she’s been in the water for so long that the waves have carried her towards the island. It doesn’t take much to pull her out.

“You, you’re hurt?” She speaks in her usually broken speech pattern, gesturing towards you, and you’re quick to look down, thinking you’ve been hurt without knowing it. When you come back with nothing, you look back at her, confused, and she gestures again. You realize it’s a question, not a statement. 

She seems tunneled in on whether you’re hurt or not. Drenched with water and frustration, you spin around in front of her. “I’m fine, Wiress, I’m fine, but we have to go.” She’s a lot more amicable now, allowing you to corral her back to where you saw Johanna last. The bodies littered around give you pause. In front of you lies a woman who is half-submerged in the pinkish water. Taking a deep breath, you step over her and drag Wiress with you.

When you get to the mouth of the Cornucopia, you spot your two allies locked in a fight. That is to say, Beetee huddles behind Johanna as she fights, clutching a spool of wire to his chest as if it were the only thing between him and certain death. Johanna and the man from Nine are locked in the most dangerous game of tug of war you’ve ever seen. They both have their hands on an axe and if this were a game of speed, she’d have him on his knees already. But he’s bigger than her, stronger too, and just as unwilling to let it go.

Her teeth are bared in exertion, legs almost buckling under the strain. He has the blade pushed alarmingly close to her neck and you don’t think about it; your body is pushed into action before you’re even aware that you’re moving. Later, you’ll think back on how easy it was. You’ll think about how quickly he stopped being a human being like you and instead became an enemy—a threat. You’ll think about it—about who he used to be before he became a body—and you will come alarmingly close to crying. For now, you kick the man in the back of the knee and he goes down with a grunt. Johanna uses the leverage the new position gives her and snatches the axe out of his hands with a huff.

You lift the sickle in your dominant hand high in the air, putting your full weight behind it as you drive the blade into the top of his head. The collision of metal against bone ricochets up your arms, leaving your muscles vibrating. He falls forward with a heavy thud and you stumble backwards. Your hands feel like they’re vibrating and the adrenaline coursing through you puts a stop to any panic before it can begin. 

You move forward and have to place your foot on his back, grunting as you use both hands to yank your weapon back out. He makes a keening sound in the back of his throat—the guttural moans of a dying animal. You’re not used to being the one on this side of the slaughter. He’s still alive, but he won’t be for long. You won’t wait for the cannon to go off. 

“Let’s go!” The four of you sprint towards the beach, glancing behind you in case the Careers decide to give chase. There are still plenty of tributes on their platforms, too scared to brave the water. They should hold their attention long enough for your group to get away. Running away as the Careers lay claim to the Cornucopia makes you feel like prey. 

“Blight!” Johanna shouts and your head whips around, searching until you find the burly man a few yards away, waving you over. You all run to him and you take another mental stock.  

Between the five of you, you have an axe, two sickles, a machete Johanna grabbed, a spool of wire, and two brilliant minds. That should be more than enough for the plan. Johanna hands the machete over to Blight and you and her share a glance before wordlessly booking it into the jungle with your charges. Blight leads and you carry the rear. 

You really hope it doesn’t take long to find Finnick.

A/N: ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴ Heyyyy, are you mad at me? I hope you didn't mind that rant in the summary. I felt like Rue's death from this perspective hurt a little more bc you know it's coming, but Star doesn't, and sometimes I get carried away with writing my thoughts. ┐(シ)┌ More Finnick audios in the next chapter to make up for the shortage in this one. Come yell at me!!!

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #hunger games catching fire #and they'd find us in a week #finnick fanfic #finnick odair fanfic #hunger games finnick #finnick #thg finnick #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick imagine #hunger games fic #finnick odair x you #the hunger games x reader #hunger games smut #hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #the hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow

[idyllcy]

oops... i got married || TO SOME STRANGER!??!?!?

word count: 1.4k || Fic 5 of oops... i got married

summary: I'm gonna be fr with you. Your new malewife is a little sus

You get married as a joke.

Yes, there are limits to how much you can drink. Yes, there are limits to how insane you can get while drunk— but apparently getting married is not within that limit. You get married to some random guy— SERIOUSLY. SOME RANDOM DUDE. You wake up to a legally signed marriage document and them in your kitchen, and you blink at the confirmation email on your phone and then at your new lover at the door.

"You're going to be late for class."

"What the fuck?!" 

You pause at the sight of your new husband, some random man, white hair and red eyes, and you pause. Did you get transmigrated? Are you in an isekai fic? Is this your main character moment? Seriously, how the hell did you manage to bag some random ass man!???!!? WHAT. WHY IS HE HOT.

"Wait." You pause. "How do you know I have class?"

"The backpack." He points. "Now, hurry on up now."

That does NOT explain how the hell you met your husband. Yet, you don't have time, grabbing breakfast from his hand as he waves goodbye to you at the door. Great day to pay expensive ass rent but live right next to campus. You wonder if your husband lives someone. You feel kind of bad that he had to take you home after you got plastered yesterday. But. That does not excuse the fact that he looked suspicious as fuck while staring at you sleep. Also, how the hell did he agree to marrying you? WHY.

You huff as you walk back to class, pausing and blinking when a piece of the ceiling breaks off and slams into where you were sitting, somehow missing all of your belongings by a hair. You blink, stupefied, grabbing your stuff from under the ceiling as you evacuate the lecture with the rest of the students. Someone hates you... or something. You don't know. You're surprised you didn't just die while drunk. Sometimes pianos fall out of the air and try to bomb you. Also, you have a husband to go home to now! He'd be sad if you suddenly died... right?

Wait. What even is his name?

"Casper." Your husband rolls his eyes as you pout. "You forgot your own husband's name?"

"Uh huh." You blink. "Are you just going to be my househusband now?"

"I don't see why not. Anything interesting happen today?"

"Oh!" You grin. "A piece of the ceiling slammed into my seat, but luckily for me I was in the bathroom. My stomach problems saved me for once."

Your husband gives you a smile half between concern and amusement. (he would have to try harder next time— what. that was not him. who said that.) 

"I'm glad you're safe."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." He pauses. "Do you get acid reflux in the morning?"

"If I eat and sleep immediately after." You mumble. "Why?"

"Hotpot." He hums. "Spicy hotpot. Eat up."

Your eyes light up, brightening as he hands you a bowl of rice, watching as you dig in, humming happily as you watch him put his own bowl down.

"Is it good?"

"Mhm!" You beam. "Where'd you learn to cook?"

"I live alone." He hums. "Someone has to do the housework around my place."

"How about currently?"

"I live a little... far away." He pauses. "It would be hard for me to see you every day if I don't live at your place. Besides, my job is in the area."

"Will you move here? Or..."

"No. My management provides housing for free." He smiles. "Oh, the food's going to get cold."

You pause. "Can I apply?"

"No. We don't take applications."

"WHAT." You groan. "Ugh. I knew it was too good to be true. You probably sold your soul for it or something."

Casper doesn't speak up, placing a slice of lotus root in your bowl. "Eat up."

You raise a brow but don't pry further. It's not your problem if your husband sold his soul. At least he's hot.

Maybe he's secretly trying to eat your soul... demons... that checks out honestly. You did have a bad stroke of luck when it came to unfortunate situations, and you had an even more comedic one when it came to avoiding them. Always nearby, never you. You wonder if that would curse your husband. Though, from the looks of it, your husband would probably steal someone's soul before that curse could even lay a hand on him.

"What are you looking at?"

"You're very hot." You grin.

You laugh when you notice your husband turn red.

The vast majority of your days pass relatively calmly, and you grow into a comfortable pattern with your husband... that is until your husband shows up with a black card and tells you that he can cover rent for the rest of your life— that raises some questions. What does your husband even do for work? What is he doing with his life? How the hell does he have a better credit score than you? Where is his money even coming from?!

You force him into the corner of your house one afternoon with a broom in hand.

"Sunshine, I really think—"

"Spit it out." You stare him down. "What do you do for work. I refuse to believe I'm in a kdrama, so spit out something you can back up."

Casper presses his back against the wall, eyes darting to the wall as you shake the broom at him, and he grimaces.

"I'll get fired if I tell you—"

"NO ONE HAS A CAMERA IN MY HOUSE SO SPIT IT OUT"

"I'm a grim reaper."

You pause, blinking at your husband, words processing in your brain.

"I'm a grim—"

"They hire people for that?!" You blurt, pausing. "Wait. No. You're spouting nonsense at me."

"I am not."

"You are."

"Am not."

"Are!"

"Not!" Casper turns around to face you, shaking as your grip tightens around the broom. "Please... go through my closet?"

"So your job is literally... murder?" You pause. "My stay at home househusband is secretly some insane man who goes around killing people?!"

"It's not—"

"Then what is it?!" You raise a brow at him, unconvinced.

"We get a list." He sighs. "And we get everyone's name."

"Wait." You pause. "Why the hell did you agree to marry me then!?"

"That's not—"

You shake the broom at him.

"You were supposed to die years ago but kept avoiding death so I've just decided to marry you to see WHY you're not DYING." Casper braces himself for the broom's impact, but you're too stupefied to give him a proper answer.

"I'm supposed to be dead?"

"Well..." He grimaces. "You can't really... die." 

"I'm immortal?"

"Your... soul." He pauses, turning his head to the side. "Your soul is endless, and you constantly give life to those around you... including me."

You pause. "So you married me because I'm a natural healer? Wait. No. You married me to kill me?! This isn't some josei manga, you know?!"

"Yes, but." Casper sighs, shoulders relaxing as you drop the broom. "You are so lovely."

"You're just saying that."

"I am not." He mumbles. "I would have just taken your soul if you were not."

"Oh, so this is pretty privilege?"

"It's not—"

"Wow, Caspie. I thought you actually loved me." You pretend to sigh. 

"I do—"

"You didn't kill me because you think I'm lovely? If that doesn't—"

Casper grabs your wrists, holding them in place as he blinks at you, grumbling. "Would you shut up and listen to me for just a second? Goodness, sunshine, I love you. I'd go mad if I did not have you as my beloved."

You tilt your head at him, and he sighs.

"I love you. I'm not going to try killing you anymore."

You sigh, shaking your wrists loose as you press your lips to his, humming. Casper doesn't argue with it, humming as his lips slot against yours, hands moving down to your waist. 

"So we aren't getting a divorce?" You mumble.

"No." He grumbles. "What do you want for dinner?"

A smirk spreads on your face as he sighs.

Still. He loves you.

#surprise mf you thought I was never gonna touch that event again did ya #the quality of these fics r like wattpad crackfics to me. send help #☾.fics #☾.events #grim reaper x reader #casper x reader #a date with death x reader #'martha honey I'm coming home— IM BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN!?!??!' -> me rn

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Step 1 : Set Boundaries (H.HJ)

Word Count : 5.6k

Warnings : swearing, mentions of sex, hurtful voices, food mention, drinking, partying, clubbing, both hyunjin and y/n are idiots, a lot of sadness

Meeting Hyunjin was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in the way he took care of her, making sure she was happy and healthy. In the way he protected her. He was the kind of friend that could see through all the fake smiles and I’m fine’s. The kind of friend that would go on 3am adventures with her. When the voices in her head were too loud, he was there to quiet them. He was just always there, no matter what.

            But it was a blessing and a curse meeting him and having him by her side. She didn’t want to change their friendship in anyway, loving the way they were. Loved all the lingering touches and the feeling of his lips when he kissed her forehead. She loved when he would nuzzle his head into her neck whenever he had a bad day. He would press soft kisses to the side of her neck, so soft she wasn’t sure if he even realize what he was doing.

            She would hate to let go of everything, hate to never have him wrapped around her as they watched movies. But she found herself longing for the lingering touches too often. Longing for the way he looked at her like she was the only girl in the world, in his world.

            But that just wasn’t the case, evident by the group of girls surrounding him at the party he dragged her to, promising to never leave her side. A promise that was quickly broken the second a pretty girl was beckoning him towards her. He left her without a second thought, smiling at the girl the way she wishes he would smile at her, only her.

            This wasn’t new. Hyunjin dragging her to parties just to leave her the second a girl shows interest in him. It happened every single time. She found herself in the kitchen at these parties, watching all the drunk university students letting loose. Sometimes someone would approach her, flirt with her, and she’d flirt back.

            The ache in her heart, however, was new. It was an ache she had never felt before, brushing it off as acid reflux at first. Until the tears welled up in her eyes as she watched Hyunjin capture the girl’s lips with his own, her friends gushing to each other as it happened. And she knew. In that moment she knew she liked her best friend.

            And she needed to stop it before it turned into something more.

            She left before Hyunjin could see the redness around her eyes, giving way to the fact that she had cried. Cried over something so stupid, so ridiculous. How would she even explain that to Hyunjin? Oh yeah, I saw you kiss a girl and it made me cry. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t say a thing, push these feelings aside and pretend everything was normal until they went away.

            When she woke up the next morning, she felt the familiar weight of Hyunjin’s arm draped across her. She turned to look at him. His hair was a mess on the pillow, some strands falling across his face, but it didn’t seem to bother him. She always knew he was handsome, it was just a fact, but right now in this moment, with his hair messily spread across her pillow and his lips slightly parted, she doesn’t think he’s ever looked better.

            She was about to curl closer to him and get a bit more sleep. But then the image of him kissing that girl flashed in her mind and the ache in her heart came back all over again. She wished it would go away so she could go back to normal with Hyunjin. Enjoy the attention he gave her, the touches, and the kisses.

            She carefully slid out of bed, taking one last glance at Hyunjin before sneaking out of her room and into the kitchen. The voices in her head wouldn’t shut up as she brewed some coffee. How Hyunjin was too good for her, that he would leave her behind if she were to ever confess. The kept screaming nasty things, picking on every insecurity that she had. Insecurities Hyunjin would always tell her he loved.

            But he wouldn’t always be around to hold her and whisper sweet nothings until the voices went away. He couldn’t always heal all her pain. “Just shut up.” She quietly cried to herself, hitting herself in the head a couple times. “Leave me alone.”

            Hyunjin grabbed both her wrists before she could hit herself again, pulling her into his arms, and rubbing her back. He whispered the same words he always did over and over. “You are beautiful. You are worthy. You are loved.” Over and over as she sobbed into his chest, basking in his comfort.

            “I’m sorry if I woke you.” She said softly as her sobs settled. He held her chin softly, angling her face to look at him.

            “You know I don’t care.” He whispered. “As long as you’re okay, I don’t care.” And just like everyday, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling away from her, completely unaware of the tingling sensation his lips left behind. Unaware of the fire burning in her heart.

            Getting over Hyunjin was going to be an impossible task.

~

            “Maybe you should set some boundaries.” Lia told her as they walked to their shared class together. “It’s hard to get over someone when they’re always giving you hope for something more.” It made sense, setting boundaries until she could get rid of her growing feelings. But it ached her heart to think about pulling away from him, denying him cuddles and kisses.

            “I’d feel so bad not holding him when he has a bad day.” Lia shook her head as she let out a soft chuckle.

            “You’re allowed to put yourself first, Y/n. Stop thinking about what Hyunjin might need and start thinking about what you need.” She could see the sympathy in Lia’s eyes as she spoke. She could read between the lines, see the things Lia wanted to say but didn’t. “Why don’t you come out with the girls and I this weekend? Get your mind off of everything for a night.”

            “Hyunjin wanted to go to that frat party on campus.” Lia stopped walking and stared at Y/n, silently telling her to think about what she had just said. “Right. Girls night sounds like fun.” Lia smiled as she threw an arm across Y/n’s shoulders and the two continued to walk to class.

~

            Hyunjin had no idea what changed between the morning and the afternoon. It was like one moment she was holding onto him like he was her oxygen, and the next she was pushing him away like he was the plague.

            She didn’t cuddle up to him on the couch and tell him all about her day like she always would. After dinner, she sat on the opposite side of the couch, curled into herself, and refused to let Hyunjin near her. And he had no idea what he had done to cause this sudden change in her, in their friendship.

            He didn’t think he would ever be the person desperate for someone else’s touch. Didn’t think he would long for someone to brush their fingers through his hair or rub his back while he nuzzled into their neck. But as soon as it was taken away from him, he wanted it back. He wanted Y/n back, his Y/n, not the one who pushed him away and wouldn’t even look at him.

            He tried brushing it off that she just had a bad day. Maybe she was tired. Maybe the voices were getting to be too much. But every other time, she would turn to him, cuddle him, talk to him. Something happened and he felt useless for the first time in their friendship.

            Maybe she needs some space, maybe he’s been too clingy with her these days. But it was killing him inside not being able to pull her into his arms, whisper sweet nothings in her ear as he combed his fingers through her hair before pressing multiple kisses to her forehead. So many kisses that she would start giggling, pushing his face away, and wiping away the wet spot he left behind from all the kisses.

 ��          He kept telling himself that as long as she was here, happy, and healthy, that he would be okay. They would be okay.

~

            The week passed by slower than it ever had before. Tension kept building between the two of them. She could see the hurt in his eyes every single time she pulled away from him. And it almost made her pull him into his arms, apologize for everything, but she couldn’t. She’d never be able to move on if she didn’t set boundaries.

            “Hey, where are you going? Aren’t we going to the party together?” Hyunjin called after her, eyebrows furrowed as he watched her put her shoes on. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door interrupted him.

            “Lia invited me for a girl’s night.” Y/n explained before she opened the door. Lia stood there, four other girls behind her. She recognized them from Lia’s Instagram, but she hadn’t properly met them.

            “Y/n.” She turned to look at Hyunjin, seeing the same hurt in his eyes as she’s seen all week. Before he could say anything else, she gave him a quick hug and said goodbye. She was gone within seconds, leaving Hyunjin more confused than ever. Had he caused her pain and didn’t realize it? Why else would she be pulling away this much?

~

            It was nice going somewhere else besides a frat party. Was nice looking around at the dancing bodies around her and not seeing Hyunjin making out with a girl, leaving her on her own to mend the heartbreak he didn’t realize he was giving her.

            For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to let loose. Keeping up with the other girls, getting a new drink every time they did. The buzz quickly turned into drunkenness, but she hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

            Moving her body to the beat of the music, laughing at the antics of her new friends, screaming the lyrics at the top of her lungs. She caught the eye of many men in the club, but her focus was on the girls, on chasing the happiness she was feeling in this moment. It’s not like any of them were Hyunjin anyway. They didn’t have a chance, not when her heart only beats for the only man she can’t have.

~

            “No Y/n?” Changbin asked when Hyunjin walked into the frat, holding out a red solo cup for Hyunjin to take. He could see the hurt and confusion written all over Hyunjin’s face, putting the pieces together in his head as to the sudden change in his friend’s behavior these days.

            “Something is weird, hyung. She’s been so distant with me and she won’t tell me why.” Hyunjin chugged whatever liquid was in the cup he was given, wanting to forget the look on Y/n’s face when she looked at him before she left. Where did she go? Is she okay? Was she getting drunk? A million questions went through his mind, voices in his mind answering them for him, telling him she was having more fun without him. And he wonders if these voices were similar to the ones in her head. Did they tell her lies about Hyunjin? Is that why she pulled away?

            “Well have you asked her why?” No, no he hadn’t. He didn’t even think to ask her why, instead allowed her to have her space, hoping she’d crawl back into his arms soon. Hyunjin placed his empty cup on the counter and turned towards the front door, deciding he was going to get to the bottom of things tonight. “Hyunjin! I didn’t mean do it now!” Changbin called after him, but it was no use. Hyunjin was on a mission.

~

            He watched her from afar for a few minutes, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched her dance and laugh with her friends. He hasn’t seen a smile that wide on her face since before the last frat party they went to. Before everything changed.

            And then he thought to himself that maybe there was another reason he missed when she would hold him, when she would curl into his arms, smiling every time he pressed a kiss to her head. Maybe there was a reason he compared every other girl to her, telling himself he deserves a love like she gives him. Maybe he just wants her love.

            He could see Lia’s eyes widen as he approached, causing Y/n to turn around, her smile falling and her body stilled. “Can we talk?” Why was he suddenly nervous? Y/n was his best friend, was she still his best friend? Maybe she could tell he had feelings for her before he even realized, and she was trying to reject him without rejecting him.

            “Yeah.” She followed him outside after giving the girls a reassuring nod, silently telling them she would be okay. But Hyunjin didn’t notice, he didn’t notice the nervousness taking over her body. He only noticed the way she didn’t grab his outstretched hand like she used to.

            “What’s going on between us these days. Y/n?” Hyunjin asked, pacing in front of her, running his hands through his hair as he began to list all the things that had changed between them. And when he was finished, he stopped in front of her, staring at her face, which was angled towards the ground.

            “I just need some space, Hyunjin.”

            “Why? Why do you need space from me?” She flinched at the loudness of his voice, not used to Hyunjin yelling at her. Though, this has never happened before. In the years they’ve known each other, she’s never denied him of the physical touch he loved so much. “Answer me Y/n! What the fuck did I do?”

            The words were on the tip of her tongue, the alcohol getting rid of her filter, but she was able to bite them back, swallow them before she made a mistake. Before she ruined everything, losing the only person that’s stuck by her no matter what. “Just let me have my boundaries until I feel better, please.” She pleaded, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

            Hyunjin’s heart sank as he heard how broken she sounded, how tired. How long has she been feeling like this? How did he not notice a damn thing? “What do you need me to do?”

            Hyunjin would always do anything and everything he could for her. If it meant the smile never left her face, he would give all of himself. And he’s amazed it took him so long to realize that his love wasn’t all that platonic after all.

~

            Every day since they spoke, Hyunjin reads the list of boundaries she wrote down for him. He’s read it so many times he has it completely memorized, but still he reads it like it holds all the answers. The reasons why she needed space, but he couldn’t see them. All he could see was the things he can no longer do, and it was killing him inside.

            He comes home after a particularly rough day and all he wants to do is crawl into her loving embrace. But she’s rarely home these days, opting to spend time with her new friends, coming home at night to spend roughly an hour with Hyunjin before going to bed. She doesn’t even go to parties with him anymore, not that parties were all that interesting to Hyunjin anymore. Not even attention from other girls could heal the ache in his heart.

            His friends have noticed the change when they hang out and happen to cross paths with Y/n and her friends. The way he holds back pulling her into his arms and pressing a soft kiss on her head. How he waits until they go to part ways and Y/n initiates a quick hug, no longer than 5 seconds, she had said. But they were far quicker than that, lasting barely 2 seconds before she was pulling away. Not that Hyunjin was counting.

            His friends had taken to teasing the distant look in his eyes, the pout on his face, now that Y/n isn’t wrapped around his finger. It had switched. Hyunjin would never admit it to his friends, but he was always wrapped around her finger. Since the day they met and she looked at him with the same smile he would later fall in love with.

            “What’s even going on between you 2? The air is weird when you 2 are near each other.” Jeongin asked as the 8 of them sat at their usual table at the diner they frequented. It was a question he was expecting sooner or later, he just didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know what was going on, she never told him.

            “Did you reject her?” Hyunjin’s head snapped towards Minho’s direction. Minho was smirking, clearly joking, but it wasn’t a joke to Hyunjin. How could Minho even insinuate that Hyunjin would reject her, let alone say it out right? “Don’t look at me like that. It was a joke.” Minho chuckled, but still Hyunjin didn’t crack a smile.

            “Why would you say that?” All of his friends stared at him like he was stupid, like he just asked the dumbest question known to man.

            “Please tell me you’re joking, Hyunjin.” Seungmin spoke up. Hyunjin looked away from Minho to look at Seungmin, his glare serious. “You mean to tell me you can’t tell that she’s in love with you?” Y/n in love with Hyunjin? Only in his dreams.

            “She’s not.” All his friends exchanged looks before laughing to themselves, slowly stopping when they realized Hyunjin wasn’t joking with them. He truly believed his best friend only saw him as that, a best friend. Completely clueless to the longing stares she throws his way when he’s not looking, clueless to the way her face would redden with every touch. Something none of them have seen in almost a month.

            A whole month Hyunjin has gone without holding her close, without kissing her face so much until she was annoyed with him. A whole month and he’s barely seen her, only seeing her in the mornings as they have their coffee together, and at night before they go to bed. It was torture, seeing her and not being able to touch her. Like she was a dream, a part of his imagination he just can’t get rid of.

            “Come on, Hyun. You had to have noticed the way she looked at you.” Felix said.

            “Or the way she’d cry whenever she saw you with another girl.” Jisung piped up.

            “She cried because of me?” The familiar ache in his chest doubled at the news. He tried to swallow the lump in throat, the sobs begging to be let out. Hyunjin thought back to all the parties he dragged her to, promising to stay by her side just to leave her for another girl. Kissing someone else, holding someone else, while she watched from her usual spot in the kitchen. And he had no idea that she was hurting.

            “Yeah dude. Remember the party last month? You were making out with Giselle and I saw Y/n wipe tears away. She left soon after.” Changbin shrugged before continuing to munch on the fries still on his plate. Hyunjin barely remembered that party, drinking far more than usual. He remembered looking around for Y/n. Remembered the way his heart fell when he didn’t see her, thinking she had left with someone else. He wasn’t sure why it hurt him then, but he knows now. Knows why he didn’t go home with Giselle that night. Why he went back to the place he shared with Y/n and crawled into bed beside her. He knows it now.

            “Isn’t that the last party she came to?” Chan asked. “I haven’t seen her at any since.”

            “She’s been going clubbing with Lia, Yeji, Ryujin, Chaeryeong, and Yuna these days.” Felix explained.

            “Then that would be right before she decided she needed space.” Changbin began putting the pieces together, and so did Hyunjin. “Dude, she’s trying to get over you.” Hyunjin abruptly stood from the table as he ran his fingers through his hair.

            “I have to stop her.”

            “Whoa hold your horses Hyunjin. You can’t just go to her and confess to her.” Chan told him, grabbing him by the shoulder and sitting him back down.

            “And why not? I can’t have her thinking I don’t love her.”

            “Okay so was anyone going to tell me that Hyunjin loved Y/n or was I just supposed to find out for myself?” Jisung said looking around the table at his friends, all of which looked back at him like he was an idiot.

            “You’re joking, right? He has not kept it well hidden.”

            “Hidden enough that Y/n has no idea.” Jisung banted back, sticking his tongue out at Seungmin, earning a swift kick to his shin. “Ow! What the fuck Seungmin?” Seungmin just shrugged, sipping on his milkshake like he hadn’t done anything.

            “Can we please focus on my dilemma? You two can fight later. I can’t lose Y/n.” Hyunjin sounded panicked, and his friends could see the tears in his eyes. All of their gazes softened, Chan placing a comforting hand on his back.

            “Break through each of her boundaries and show her you love her. Actions speak louder than words.”

~

            Hyunjin got home later than usual that night, a million thoughts running through his mind. How had he not noticed the love she had for him? According to the guys, it was obvious. They’ve known for a while about her more than platonic feelings for Hyunjin. Obvious in the way her eyes were only ever on him. In the way her smile was wider when she was with him, her laugh was louder. She was happiest with Hyunjin by her side, and he had no idea.

            “I’ll see you tomorrow. Jinnie just got home.” Hyunjin’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice, seeing her sat on the couch, sliding her phone onto the coffee table in front of her. She looked at him with a soft smile, a smile he wanted so badly to return, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t find it in himself to smile when he felt so broken, so lost. “Jinnie, are you okay?”

            He carefully walked closer to her, sitting beside her on the couch, but not too close. He knows that Chan told him to break through her boundaries, but it seemed so wrong to do that. She asked him to respect her need for space, and he was going to listen. He would do anything for her after all. He’d have to find a different way to show her that his heart belongs to her. “Can you please, just tonight, play with my hair?”

            She could see the pain on his face, the hurt in his eyes, and as much as she wanted to say no, she patted her lap, allowing Hyunjin to rest his head while she combed through his hair. “Want to tell me what’s bothering you, Jinnie?” He closed his eyes the second her fingers started combing through his hair, a feeling he so desperately missed.

            “I’ve just missed being with you like this.” His voice was quiet, so quiet she didn’t think she heard him correctly. Until he opened his eyes, looking directly at her, causing her cheeks to redden. “Please stop pushing me away, Y/n. I’m dying without you.”

~

            “You gave in just like that?” Lia asked. They were sat in a café just off campus with their other friends. They were supposed to study, but as soon as Y/n told them she spent the night cuddled with Hyunjin in her bed, waking up with his face nuzzled in her neck just like she used to, all books were closed, and all attention was on her.

            “Honestly it sounds like he loves you too.” Yeji piped up.

            “Don’t give her false hope, Yej.” Lia shot Yeji a warning look as she spoke, causing Yeji to put her hands up in surrender.

            “I’m just saying. Someone with absolutely no romantic feelings wouldn’t be desperate like Hyunjin is.” Yeji defended her claim, but Y/n tried to keep her heart calm, tried not to fall for the false hope bubbling in her chest that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to move on. Maybe Hyunjin fell for her the way she fell for him.

            “Felix told me Hyunjin’s fangirls are getting upset because he pays no attention to them anymore. Apparently he hasn’t been with a girl at all in a month.” Ryujin backed Yeji up. “Maybe it’s time to sit down and talk to him.”

            “And what happens if he’s acting like this because he likes someone else? Hmm? Then Y/n ends up heartbroken and she loses her best friend.” Everyone looked towards Lia, their hardened gazes softening as they saw the tears in her eyes.

            “Lia, Hyunjin isn’t Dino.” Yuna softly spoke, sliding her hand in Lia’s. “There’s a chance that Hyunjin feels the same, but Y/n needs to take a leap of faith to find out for sure. And she’ll need all our support, whether the answer is good or bad.”

            Lia took a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to go through what I did.” Y/n shot her a soft smile.

            “Dino was stupid for not liking you back.” Lia chuckled, nodding her head as she agreed with Y/n. “I’m going to go home early today. I think it’s time to take that leap of faith.” She quickly packed up her books, bidding her friends goodbye, all of them wishing her luck as she walked out of the café, heading home to get her answer.

~

            Hyunjin was in the kitchen when she returned, his head snapping up at the sound of the door opening. “You’re home early today.” He smiled and her heart picked up pace at the sight. There really was no getting over Hyunjin, she knew that now. No moving on unless she knew for sure if she had a chance. “I’m cooking dinner. Did you want some?”

            “Yeah I do. Maybe we could watch a movie after if you want.” She was smiling at him the way she used to. It felt like things were slowly falling back into place with the way she smiled at him, like she decided not to push him away anymore.

            “I’d love to.” Y/n joined him in the kitchen, asking if he needed any help. “No help needed. Company would be nice though.” He looked over at her, noticing the way her eyes didn’t stray away from him. It was hard to look away from her, as if she had put him under a spell. And maybe she did, maybe she gave him a love potion. Maybe that’s why he had fallen so hard for her in such a short amount of time. But he knew it was just her.

            She watched as he prepped dinner, mixed all the ingredients. Once it was in the oven, he looked at her, holding out his hand for her to grab, but she looked up at him, confusion written all over her face.

            “Dance with me.” He didn’t look away, didn’t move his hand away. He just stood there, his hand outstretched, looking at her, waiting for her answer. And the answer was yes. She didn’t need to say yes, she just placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her in closer, swaying the both of them to the beat of the music playing from his phone.

            “We probably look ridiculous.” She giggled. But neither one of them cared. She liked being with him like this, as if the talk had already happened. As if he was already hers. And he missed being able to hold her. He was happy she allowed him to hold her close like this, so he was going to soak in this moment, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time.

            “You look beautiful.” He watched as the heat rose to her cheeks, dusting a pink blush across her cheeks. Had she always reacted like this to his compliments? He’d have to pay more attention whenever he complimented her, loving how cute she looked with her reddened cheeks. “I’ve missed holding you like this.”

            “We’ve never danced around the kitchen like this before, Jinnie.”

            “Maybe we should do it more often.”

            “Maybe we should.”

~

            She was scrolling through Netflix trying to find a movie to watch as Hyunjin cleaned up the kitchen, despite her many protests that she should be the one to clean since he cooked. But he was having none of it, pushing her out of the kitchen, and telling her to relax.

            She was scrolling through movie after movie, reading title after title, but the words weren’t processing in her mind. All she could think about was the talk she needed to have with Hyunjin. How was she going to bring it up? How was she supposed to tell him that she loved him? “Can I sit beside you tonight?” Hyunjin’s words pulled her out of her thoughts, and she nodded with a smile, patting the spot next to her.

            Hyunjin tried to hide the giddiness he felt at being able to sit beside her. He felt like a teenager with his first crush. Except he wasn’t a teenager, and this wasn’t a crush. “Have a movie in mind?” She asked, continuing to scroll through the movies, none of them catching her attention. Not when Hyunjin was beside her, his leg resting against hers, the scent of his cologne wafting up her nose. Nothing could be as captivating as Hyunjin.

            “I’m up for anything.” She tried not to look at him, tried to keep her focus on the tv, but Hyunjin made it so hard. It wasn’t fair how attractive he was just sitting there. It was killing her not knowing where she stood in his life. Was she a friend? Was she more? But does she bring it up before or after the movie? “Are you okay, Y/n? You look like you’re lost in your brain again.” Now. It had to be now.

            She set the remote down before turning her body towards him, catching Hyunjin completely off guard. Did he say something wrong? Was he sitting too close? Did he fuck everything up again? “I need to tell you something really important and I need you to just listen until I’m finished.” Hyunjin nodded. “You also need to promise that no matter what, we’ll be best friends.”

            This was it, Hyunjin thought. This was the moment she’d confess the feelings in her heart, either confirming what the boys have been saying, or shattering his heart. “I promise.” He watched in silence as she took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to say. He wanted to hold her hand, tell her she could tell him anything and he wouldn’t go anywhere. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to make anymore mistakes.

            “I think I’m in love with you. And it’s just been so hard being around you because you’re so touchy with me and it confuses me. Because when we’re alone, it almost feels like I’m your girlfriend, but then you drag me to a party and I have to watch you make out with other girls. Lia told me to set boundaries so I could get over you but fuck it’s impossible to be around you and not want to kiss you.”

            “Then kiss me.”

            She was silent, looking at him, studying his face for any sign of a lie. But there was none. He was telling her to kiss him, and he meant it. But why did he mean it? Why did he want her to kiss him?

            He could see the panic in her eyes, so he decided to make the first move, softly grabbing her face in his hands. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, tell me now.” He whispered, waiting for any sign of rejection, but there was none. So he leaned forward, slowly in case she changed her mind, but when her eyes fluttered shut, he closed the space between them, kissing her like his life depended on it. Like she was his only source of oxygen.

            It was different than any other kiss he’s had. It had feelings he’s never felt before. Love. A true and pure form of love. The kind of love written in fairytales, starting with once upon a time, and ending with a happily ever after. She was his happily ever after.

            “Please don’t get over me.” He whispered softly after pulling away. Her face was still in his hands, and he looked at her like she held all the answers he could ever want. “Be my girlfriend instead.”          

   “Okay.”

back to masterlist

@beabeanice @lilydaisyyy @notastraykid @frobin4ever @habeyhan @taetertotsv @mylifesupsidedowm @is2cb97 @ren-junwrld @wormi @ghostedgameplays @haikyuuisposts @chai-papa @aestheticsluut

#stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids au #stray kids #skz imagine #skz x reader #skz au #skz #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin au #bang chan #lee know #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #lee yongbok #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

[darlingggdearest]

Hey I really like your writing

If it's okay, could I have some Yandere!Muichiro headcanons? If you're okay with specific readers, could you make the reader chubby? If not, that's completely okay

Either way, thank you in advance, have a wonderful day/night

AGED UP YANDERE MUICHIRO X FEMALE READER

I'm sorry, however I like to leave my works inclusive to all body types so I won't do something specific with the readers body. I hope you like this anyway! Have a nice day, and of course, thank you for requesting!

+ Congratulations! You have won the mist hashira's heart!

+ Maybe this isn't such a congratulatory event considering he becomes obsessed and quite literally crazy over you.

+ Besides the crazy part, I think Muichiro is a fascinating yandere to write about, there are so many aspects of his character to consider before you can truly make an accurate assumption about how he would act lovestruck with a girl. For one, I think you caught his attention because of the fact he couldn't forget you. Maybe it was your beauty, or your grace, perhaps your personality made it so he couldn't stop himself from wondering about you every day, but whatever it was, he thirst for more. He had seen other pretty ladies all across Japan, however, there was something about you that he couldn't get out of his mind.

+ At first, he would hide his true obsession for you deep within himself. On the outside, it seemed like an innocent crush. He followed you around like a lost puppy, a soft smile adorning his face every time you did something he deemed "cute". Other times, he would help you out with small tasks, like sharpening your blade, or helping you around the butterfly mansion. You appreciated the help, and never even noticed how his warm smile turned into a sour grimace every time someone else spoke to you.

+ The next stage in his obsession would be overprotectiveness. He would follow you on missions, always showing up at the last moment to save you whether you needed it or not. In Muichiro's mind, you always need to be protected, you're too small and fragile to protect yourself. Another part of this next stage would be an obsessive compulsion to be the only person near you at all times. He can no longer swallow his jealousy of other people. Every time anyone comes near you let alone another man, he gets a searing glob of hot lava weighing him down in the pit of his stomach. To swallow the acid reflux and shove his hatred of the other person down was pure torture for him. So to battle that feeling, he would get more needy towards you, to prove to himself that you did love him and he had nothing to worry about. So for the next few days he rested his head on your shoulder, let his arm drape around your waist, fell asleep in your lap, and whined when you said you needed to go home.

+ With the way he was carrying on, most of the pillars thought you two were a couple, the others who didn't thought you guys were married. ( Muichiro cannot deny that he loves these rumors.)

+ The next and final stage of his love would be the inevitable kidnapping. He had enough with the thought of sharing you with anyone else, so when you two were having your evening tea together, he slipped you something to make you fall asleep. You started to feel nauseous, and weak, black spots clouded you vision and your hearing faded little by little. Muichiro rushed towards you and set your head on his lap, caressing your face and whispering words of comfort to your weakening state. Your vision faded to black.

+ You woke up in the mist estate, on a comfortable silk bed with warm blankets surrounding you, your body sank deep into the plush material of the mattress, you felt safe. (gosh I'm so tired right now.) However that was the opposite of how you should be feeling. Muichiro lay beside you with his limbs wrapped around your waist and torso, he was holding on to you for dear life, pressing your face into his neck and holding the back of your head with his hand as to push you closer to him. His eyes fluttered open at your change of breathing, and he looked down at you. His eyes held the most sincere and warm stare you had ever seen, he looked more happy then you had ever seen him before in your life. To your surprise, Muichiro started to pepper your face with kisses, finally planting one on your lips making you gasp, and in turn, he chuckled.

+ " Oh darling, I cannot explain to you how long I have waited to finally have you in my arms like this, welcome home angel."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

This is not my best work, cause I wrote this during a writers block. But hey! At least I finished it!

#demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer fanfic #muichiro demon slayer #muichiro tokito #kny muichiro #muichiro x reader #demon slayer muichiro #muichiro x you #kimetsu muichiro #muichiro headcanons #yandere muichiro #yandere x reader #yandere male #soft yandere #muichiro x y/n #writers block

[malum-forev]

Ooo hiiiii! If it’s okay (I’m sorry if this is too detailed!!),

Can I please request a Everyone lives au! (All of the Avengers are alive and well, and the team is still together as a family😅) Bucky x fem!civilian!reader where they first met when he was The Winter Soldier, and again in TFAWS? He miraculously had saved Y/n’s life back when he was the Winter Soldier, something that he had never told anyone about (as Hydra probably would’ve had her killed for seeing the Winter Soldier). It all comes to the surface years later when Bucky, Steve, and Sam are out at a restaurant when they run into Y/n, who is their waitress, and drops their food once she sees who Bucky is (he thinks it’s because she’s afraid, but she’s not, it’s because she recognizes him as the man who saved her life). + she hugs and thanks him? Sam and Steve being proud of him🥺 + Y/n and Buck falling in love?

I feel like it’d be really meaningful and emotional for Bucky to have someone see him as their hero, rather than the villain that he thinks he is (POOR BBY)🥺🥺

Hiii thank you sooo much for your ask!! This is my first one! I hope I do it justice!

The chill of the midnight breeze made Bucky shiver, he shouldn’t be out right now and he knows he doesn’t need to be. It’s a conscious decision. Steve, Sam, and Bucky are veterans and they have no business taking on the graveyard shift but they didn’t care. They didn’t care that the new recruits were younger and would adapt to the bizarre sleep schedule better, they didn’t care that they had to bundle up with an extra layer of clothing before leaving the compound so they wouldn’t get a cold, they didn’t care that now they understood the term: ‘I know tomorrow’s gonna rain, my knees always hurt before it does.’

After they ‘gently convinced’ (as Bucky would say) the person who supposedly knew information about the new mission they were on, the three men found themselves at a 24hr diner at 2am. Hoping to get in their third cup of coffee on the shift.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” Sam groaned, leaning his head on the back of the squeaky red booth. 

“I knew I was going to stop at some point, I just didn’t know that the end would come with me having to crack every single bone before fighting.” Steve laughed into his coffee. 

Bucky looked up at the flickering fluorescent lights. “I dislocate my shoulder every time, I’m starting to think I should just keep it out of the socket. It’ll give me less trouble that way.”

“When did we get so old?” Bucky said with a groan, putting his face in his hands.

“We should get some food in, wouldn’t want to get acid reflux before a fight.” Sam flagged the waitress down. 

Bucky didn’t know what he was expecting, scratch that- he knows exactly what he was expecting and it wasn’t you. He thought his waitress would be an older woman, she would smell of stale coffee and fryer oil. But suddenly you were here, with him, and everything started moving in slow motion. 

At first you didn’t recognize him, it had been years since you’d last saw him. And even that time you first met, you didn’t get to truly see him. You were too afraid to even peek through your hand covered eyes. You balanced the tray of food, meant for the person a few tables behind them, with one hand while the other one rummaged through the pocket at the front of your apron for a pen. 

You finally found it and clicked the top.

“What will you guys be-“ Your mouth suddenly turned dry as you met his crystal eyes. In a matter of milliseconds your world shifted. Like one second you were working the late night shift your obnoxious boss had forced you into doing and the next your back in time. Exactly eight years ago, the night your life changed.  

Everyone around you worried, your first-time leaving home and you chose a big city. “You know they have pickpockets there, right?” someone had told you, trying to convince you not to go. But you’d roll your eyes and say: “I’m more scared of the guys around here who drink and drive than a couple of pickpockets.” 

You were surprisingly autonomous for a person who had never been apart from- well- anyone you knew. All of your family, friends and safety net now resided a couple of thousands of miles away. 

But there was something about that day eight years ago, the first day where everything went wrong. Maybe it was your brains way of giving you some sort of bad omen. You had stayed out a little too late that day and missed your train, now you had to take the bus. But the only route available took you to an unknown part of town. From there you would have to walk some 40 odd minutes to get back home. 

Your boots clicking on the hard cobblestone was the only thing to be heard, the light of the moon the only thing that was shining. A strange feeling took over your being as you looked around the foreign place. And just to make things worse, it started raining.

As you started feeling the droplets becoming more aggressive you decided to wait the storm out in what looked like an old hotel. But as you pushed the door open, you realized it was abandoned on the inside. You stayed close to the door and took in your surroundings. 

There was an old wooden door to your left, it was slightly open so you peered inside. It creaked as you opened it and your heart sank as you saw what was inside. A man tied to a chair, his cheekbone was cut and bleeding, a knife was sticking out from his upper thigh. You gasped as you came closer.

“Help me.” The man groaned but before you could do anything, something came out of the shadows. 

Half of his face was covered and his hair was long, but your eyes were glued to his. His dark cerulean eyes were lit by the moonlight coming in from the skylight. 

He marched towards you until you were backed up against the wall. You’d heard about him before. The Winter Soldier, but you thought he was a character made up by mothers across the world so their children would do as they said. A sort of Boogeyman. 

Your life flashed before your eyes as you saw his metal hand come up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly and waited for the light at the end of the tunnel, but it never came. You opened one eye and saw the shining red star at his shoulder slightly shake, the only indication that he was there because when you saw his face it was blank. The dark hue in his eyes you saw a second earlier had disappeared. In its place was a light crystal blue shine. His silver hand was still around your neck but he didn’t apply any pressure.

“Who are you?” He muttered through gritted teeth. The lines in his forehead a clear indication that he was battling with himself.

“I’m nobody.” You squeaked, your eyes never leaving his. 

He opened his mouth to say something but turned his head to the side, listening for something. “You have to leave.”

“What?” You gasped. 

He took your hand in his right one and lead you to the window in the room. He smashed the glass, making sure there was no sharp edge as he picked you up to sit on the windowsill.

“What are you doing?” You asked quietly, not sure how you even got one word out. You finally heard some voices coming closer to the room you were in.

“Leave!” he ordered looking from you to the door. “They’ll kill you if you don’t!”

You jumped out into the rain and looked back at him. 

“Run!” he yelled before taking a knife and stabbing it into his right arm. He groaned in pain.

“What’s going on down here, Soldat?” You heard someone ask. 

“Someone came in, wanting to take the prisoner out. I took care of them.” The Winter Soldier said. 

Your fight or flight finally kicked in and you ran, you ran until your legs gave out and you were far away from him. 

He recognized you too, you saw it flash in his eyes. You took a step back in shock and bumped into the table behind them, dropping the contents of your tray on the floor. You gasped.

“I-I’ll-“ You stuttered. “I’ll bring over a mop.”

You rushed back to the kitchen, taking the cleaning supplies from the closet and passing them over to your coworker, Frank.

“What’s this about?” He rolled his eyes.

“I’ve covered for you hundreds of times.” You spat out. “Clean up the mess at table 17 and call it even.”

Before he could even answer you rushed out the back door, desperately needing fresh air. Your breaths were shallow and no amount of air could relieve the pressure you felt in your chest. You ripped the apron off and threw it on the ground, pacing back and forth. 

You heard the back door creak open. “I don’t need your shit right now, Frank!”

But you could recognize the sound of those boots anywhere. You lifted your head and saw the Winter Soldier walking towards you. Your breath got caught in your throat. He picked up your apron up and brought it closer to you.

“We’ve met before.” He gulped. “When I was someone I no longer am.”

His voice had a strange quality to it, like he was unsure as to what to say. Your eyes widened at his tone.

You wanted to find a way to say what you felt but how can you put into words: ‘Thank you for saving my life eight years ago and not killing me even though you were programmed to kill anything in your way back then.’

Maybe you could find a Hallmark card?

He looked down at the floor with shame as you didn’t answer, almost embarrassed. 

But before you knew it, you were wrapping your arms over his shoulders and pulling him in for a hug. Now it was his turn to widen his eyes. 

You let go after a few seconds. “I’m sorry about that. The hug, I don’t know if you’re a hugger.”

His mouth opened slightly and his cheeks had a pinkish hue to them. 

“Thank you.” You whispered.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Did you- did you just say thank you? You’re not afraid?”

“Afraid?” You asked. “You saved me that night. You fought all your instincts and saved me, even when it would have been easier to just get rid of me. I don’t know how I can repay you.” 

“I- I don’t understand. I don’t know what to say.” Bucky was shocked, he thought you were scared of him. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be on the other side of the Winter Soldier. A young woman being almost choked to death by a machine. But here he was, being thanked by you.

You shook your head. “Don’t say anything, just listen. Thank you, you saved my life.”

A rare, small smile tugged at his lips. Those words changed him. Six silly words that came out of your mouth like sweet honey seeped into his fractured heart. He felt something, for the first time in decades. 

 Bucky cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to it.”

You smiled at him, brushing back your hair. 

When you returned to the table much more composed, you finally asked for their order. One cheese and spinach omelet for the Falcon, one BLT for Captain America and just a black coffee for the Winter Soldier. Was this real life?

They asked for the check a while later, surprised when you said it was on the house.

“If I’d known you guys give food for free, I would have come by sooner.” Sam laughed.

“It’s not every day you get to see the man who saved your life.” You said with a smile. 

Both men turned to look at a now blushing Bucky. 

“Please, it was nothing.” He said shyly, not looking up. 

You nodded your head, a feeling of pride filling your body. This man who has only felt feared deserves to be awarded for his good. “He saved my life eight years ago when I wandered into a place I was definitely not supposed to be in.”

A smile appeared on Steve’s face as he patted his best friend on the back. “I’m proud of you Buck.”

----

The shift happened immediately after that day. Suddenly Bucky started to push Steve and Sam to take the graveyard shift with him more often, and when they stopped going he decided to go by himself. 

“My head feels clearer at night.” Was Bucky’s excuse once. 

But everyone could see the Sergeant’s true intentions. He had quite literally fallen in love with you, he’d slipped on the linoleum floors one night after missing the caution cone you’d put out, but Bucky couldn’t for the life of him figure out a way to ask you out. And today was no exception.

“Can I get you anything else?” You asked as you placed his regular order in front of him.

His lips were sealed tight and he shook his head furiously. 

You smiled. “I’ll be around if you need me.”

You’d become quite confused, he had flirted with you a couple of times now. Cute compliments would flow out of his mouth constantly, he’d even called you beautiful once as a pet name. But maybe you had mistaken his kind words for something other than what they were. 

“I’ll leave this here, whenever you’re ready.” You placed the receipt in front of him after he’d been in the diner with only his coffee for around 30 minutes. 

You didn’t expect him to grab your hand, and you certainly didn’t expect the sparks that shot.

“I will not be paying this.” He said, his eyes on yours.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “If you want I can get my manager.”

“I will not be paying this.” He repeated. “Until you accept my date offer.”

You went from confused to truly shocked, and he noticed because he immediately backtracked. He slapped the palm of his hand to his forehead, mumbling under his breath.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know why I just said that. I sounded like a total creep. You obviously don’t want to go on a date with an old man like me it- it’s just I think you are beautiful but more than that you are kind and I would love- if you gave me the chance to, maybe I’m not used to this modern way of courting but I think that-“

You placed your hand over his babbling mouth. “Of course I’ll go on a date with you.”

Bucky let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding.

“Thank god.” His muffled voice said. 

#bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes os #college au #college au!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #sebastian stan x you #marvel fanfic

[rosepascal]

pedro boys when you’re not feeling well

ft: Joel Miller, Din Djarin, Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels, Marcus Pike, Marcus Moreno, Max Phillips, Dieter Bravo

a/n: writing this in bed as i suffer from a stomach ache (maybe caused by exhausting travel day or it could be my acid reflux making my life hell idk) either way i need comfort from the boys. also first time writing a headcanon for dieter, might add max lord soon bc hes fine af

Joel Miller

Pre outbreak Joel would know exactly what to do to help. He’s dealt with his fair share of stomaches aches, fevers, colds etc. Sarah got sick a lot as a child so he knows the remedies and what makes someone feel better. He’ll cook u soup or make u toast and coax you into eating with kisses. He’ll make you drink water and let you sleep in his bed. Also gives you lots of cuddles

Post outbreak Joel still has those instincts buried in him when he sees you aren’t feeling well. He’s not as kissy as he used to be but he will do anything to help you feel better. If you even mention wanting soup or needing medicine he's out the door to get it for you. He’s a grump though so he’ll be a bit more blunt like telling u to sit and stop whining when you complain about him doing so much for you. But it comes from a place of love even if he won’t admit it. Still gives the best cuddles. You just have to ask.

Din Djarin

Mando is such a sweetheart. He’s been sick and injured himself but normally he’s on his own. Suffering by himself on his ship. But after meeting you he doesn’t feel that way anymore. Every injury is now treated by you. He never ever wants you to feel the way he used to feel so he’ll be right by your side. Returning the care and compassion you give him. He has bacta if you need it but sometimes you just have to ride out the sick feeling. He gets you whatever you want. Tasking Grogu to stay with you as he goes into town. He’ll take real good care of you until you’re back to normal.

Frankie Morales

Frankie, sweet Frankie. Oh he’s just a total sweetheart. He’s a bit of a worry wart though. Oh you should have seen him the first time his baby girl got sick. She cried in his arms and his heart broke because he couldn’t do anything to help her. He goes a little overboard sometimes. He’s at your side in an instant. Immediately jumping to the worst conclusion even if its just a stomach ache. He doesn’t like to see you sick because it worries him to no end. Even if you promise you’re okay. He probably has some cure he promises you will help that he learned in the military. But he can also make you mac and cheese and sit with you on the couch.

Jack Daniels

Whiskey is basically your maid when you are sick. He calls you a million sweet pet names as he lets you sit in his bed all comfy and brings you anything you ask for. He’ll also go to ginger for medicine, knowing whatever she can give you will have you right as rain in a day. He is a bit of a tease though. Saying stuff like “Poor baby.” and “Don’t feel good huh?” His tone is light and joking and you tend to play along. Pouting and nodding your head. Telling him that only his cuddles and that soup from the deli downtown is all you need. He’ll laugh but get it for you in a heartbeat.

Marcus Pike

Oh my god this man is the perfect partner when you are sick. At first you're pretty upset because you have to cancel your date with him. Date nights are already hard to plan given both of your jobs. He can tell something is wrong the moment he hears you over the phone. Even though you tell him that you're fine and promise to make it up to him he still shows up to your place 30 minutes later with food. He'll turn on an old movie and wrap you in a blanket and let you fall asleep in his arms.

Marcus Moreno

I feel like Marcus is also a pretty anxious guy but like Joel and Frankie he's got the dad knowledge on how to make someone feel better. Plus his mothers surefire cures. He comes after work because as much as he wishes, he can't miss work. But he's constantly messaging you to make sure you're okay. He offers to let you stay at his place but you don't want to get him or Missy sick. Though its a losing battle because both him and Missy don't care and want you around. Missy will keep you company while Marcus makes you tea and soup. The night ends with family cuddles and a lot of love.

Max Phillips

Vampires can't get sick like humans so there's no worry about getting him sick. Max wants you to feel better as soon as possible, mostly because you don't taste as good when you're sick and its not as fun for you. But also because he cares about your wellbeing of course. He's bit of a pain though because he's at work and you're texting him to pick you up some medicine and he's being a tease about it. Telling you how out of the way it is and how expensive it is but obviously he's going to get it for you. He just likes it when you beg :) He'll get you everything you ask for and more. As for cuddles he is happy to be your ice pack. He also offers to turn you so you don't have to feel like this ever again. Mostly joking, but a part of him isn't.

Dieter Bravo

Dieter will buy you all the expensive medicine and the fluffiest blankets and food from the highest end restaurant if it will make you feel better. Well it's his money but he has assistants to actually go and get it for him. Dieter is no stranger to feeling like shit so he knows what helps. Lots of snuggling in his bed, he won't let you leave unless its for the bathroom. Honestly, he's probably hungover in some capacity the same morning so its a lot of sleeping and being sick together.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #max phillips #max phillips x reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ GOJO SATORU ; — i hate how you make feel while simultaneously being so incredibly unfeeling

࿄ ! warnings - afab!reader, angst, lowkey reader is a meanie but she has reasons, okay! no other warnings :}

love is fruitless with gojo satoru.

he’s attractive enough - shiny grey-blue eyes, tall, tan: the whole shebang and it’s no wonder that girls fall at his feet for a single chance to bed the man. and, in a twist of fate: when a lucky girl gets to have gojo in her room, she’s met with the night of her life before he slips into the night, inconsequential and cold to the world - as if he hadn’t ran his hands on her naked body.

that being said, once you get to know him, you come to realise it is virtually impossible to be around gojo without wanting to pull your hair out. you once told him that you couldn’t be around him without feeling the urge to pull out handfuls of your hair. he laughed at that; bandage crinkling across his eyes and rows of bright teeth blaring haughtily at you.

even at moments that would require some warmth and thought-provoking soul searching, he’d look at you with the same expression he always gives - one of faux joyousness and a chastising turn of his lips poking fun at you because you felt something that happened to be the antithesis to what he’s feeling… if gojo could actually feel anything at all - given how he presents himself. how could you ever enjoy the presence of someone like that?

“what do you think of gojo, y/n-san?” asks utahime across the chabudai and you snicker, the sourness noticeable even in the tone of your laughter - if you could even call it that - ‘laughing.’

“arrogant. egotistical. one track minded. sometimes i want to wring my hands around his neck to get him to be quiet but-” (utahime giggles slightly at your words and you beam a little - only a little).

“it’s not fair to speak about someone when they’re not here to defend themselves,” interjects a voice and you can practically hear the pout in his tone.

“who said i was being fair?” you hum, a sip of ginger and lemon tea running past your lips and it does little to satiate the rumble in your gut and the rise of acrid bile in your throat. damn you, acid reflux.

“well, if we’re being unfair to each other, i think utahime should ask me what i think about you,” says gojo pointedly and he sits cross legged at the low table - raising what seems to be a brow under his many layers of bandages.

“for your information, we were not playing a game-”

“no, you can go on and ask him, utahime. i’m a big girl. i can take it.” you narrow your eyes at the white haired man when you say that and it’s somewhat laughable that even though he’s sat down, at your level, gojo is ridiculously too statuesque to look right at you - prompting what you can feel is a fiery blush erupt on your cheeks when he leans down. you want to kill him so badly. just who does he think he is?

“um… o-ok, if that’s alright with you then… what do you think of y/n, gojo?”

a beat passes and you hold down a swallow, a gulp, at the silence that ruminates the staff room. gojo looks away, as if in deep thought and you roll your eyes at the over the top act.

the man leans down again, elbows on the chabudai, “i think y/n is afraid. constantly running from anything that invokes even the slightest bit of fear and feeling in her bones,” and utahime chokes in disbelief, shaking the palpable heavy tension in the room.

“i don’t think i’ve ever met a jujutsu sorcerer with traits as undesirable as those- i mean, have you, utahime? talk about a red herring.”

another beat passes and you haven’t said a word; if the furrowing of your eyebrows and embittered scowl on your lips was anything short of an answer, though, then gojo had definitely hit a nerve.

unfortunately for utahime, if gojo goes low, you simply go lower.

“huh. maybe you think you’re right about me, gojo…” and he smirks, victorious in this little dance that you’re both caught up in - with utahime caught in the superfluous torrent of it all and you let a moment pass, you let gojo believe he’s won before you continue, “but it actually couldn’t be further from the truth. at least i’m deliberate about what i let others perceive about me. you want to know what i really think of gojo satoru? i think ‘how can someone as powerful and omnipotent as you be so unimaginative… so boring and so miserably orchestrated?’”

you look down at your hands, playing with the rings on your fingers and wanting to avoid the looks of the other two heads in the room, shaking in belligerent disgust and just second hand audacity.

“above all, though… gojo satoru is all too obvious yet not at the same time. it becomes neither cool or interesting when you pretend to be some suave and sexy man who strolls through life. no one knows gojo better than he knows himself and he knows that every night, when the capes and the glasses and the- the fucking bandages come off, all what stares back at him is what he attempts to hide and that’s when he really starts to feel. in the four walls of his empty room with empty eyes staring back.”

you finally look back up to see a pair of disbelieving eyes staring back at you and you can feel another boring into your soul. the bile sits at the back of your throat again and a pang knocks at the edge of your heart.

“i may be scared but you’re terrified and you go about your life like you’re not constantly thinking - worrying. if my problem is that i don’t let myself feel enough then, gojo, yours is that you pretend to feel and act superior to us normal people because you’re a fraud.”

you’re panting - breathless - by the end of it and your eyes widen, burning and brimming at the implication of what you’ve just said. your hands are clammy and the burning - the sourness starts to grow all over again. you can’t bear to look at gojo for even a second before stumbling from under the seat and storming out of the room.

consequently, that evening after the whole debacle, with gojo sporting a frown that didn’t curl up once even in the company of his students, does gojo let himself feel something. and it feels pretty damn good.

he just wishes that it hadn’t come from you of all people.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.

#sorry miwa clocked your tea at the beginning #this is a huge hc of mine #gojo doesn’t let himself process things and #it makes me sad :( i do adore him #dw there has to be a part 2 he’s not going out sad like this #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojou x reader #gojo saturo #gojo x you #✎𓂃stamped: (jujutsu kaisen)。°˖⌕ #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen #angst #jjk x reader

[judgementdaysunshine]

Hi, there. Uhm... Can I request some gastroesophageal reflux comfort with Rhea and Liv? I'm currently fighting with it and I can't handle this anymore. I don't know how long it will last and I'm so scared.

Reflux

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Fem reader x Liv Morgan

Description: The girls help you deal with your acid reflux when it starts to make sick

"You okay sweetie?" You drink cold water trying to relieve the burning in your throat trying to avoid taking Pepto but as the next hour passes your acid reflux was only growing worse until it reached it's peak. The girls turn hearing your loud footsteps watching you run in the bathroom closing the door before you throw up groaning in pain as the girls open the door with Rhea carrying you to the couch while Liv grabs tums from the kitchen cabinet along with the pepto and ice cream having you chew on tums which helped a small amount but you were sick yet again taking small bites of ice cream before taking pepto for your upset stomach and burning throat laying between them slowly eating on the ice cream and drinking cold ice water taking a pepcid before you ended up falling asleep once quite a bit of the pain subsided enough for you to relax without feeling like you would throw up any minute or that your throat was on fire. You wake up an hour later to the endless burning yet again almost feeling your eyes tear up when rhea walks in with a milkshake in hand making her laugh when you almost slurp half the milkshake down taking two big gulps feeling the relief ooze down your throat "I didn't know someone could cry over a milkshake" you jokingly flip liv off as they both laugh swaying between them as the three of you watching old episodes of Raw slowly feeling your reflux calm down as the night passed on slowly taking pepcid whenever the burning would be back but luckily for you it wasn't as bad as it had been earlier quickly getting rid of it with cold water or bites of ice cream for the next few days until the girls cooked you pizza feeling like a good eating without pain or the impending feeling of vomiting.

#wwe x reader #rhea ripley #liv morgan x reader #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #liv morgan #rhea ripley x reader x liv morgan #liv morgan x reader x rhea ripley

[phoenixyfriend]

Also @professorsparklepants and I both spend a lot of time talking about getting Sanji pregnant (cycles through fem!Sanji, trans Sanji, and bog standard mpreg depending on how we're feeling that day) and ANYWAY

I want Sanji to be clearly miserable and complaining about his sore ankles and aching back and acid reflux and loose hips and also REFUSING to sit down or take it easy on the meals like NO this is HIS job he's not going to just lay back in a deck chair with a book, stop trying to make him sit down! And they stop. And he starts bitching again..

He's fine, he just wants to complain.

And he will still bite some heads off of they try to request MORE work of him, specifically Luffy and Zoro.

Don't ask him to do more. Don't tell him to lay down and relax. Don't make him stop complaining. There are no right answers except letting him bitch about the situation.

Please think about pregnant Sanji being forced to sit down for a bit, and Nami tries to be nice by peeling a few tangerines as a snack since Sanji is waddling now.

And it segues into the two of them telling LET ME HELP YOU DAMMIT because Nami wants to help the very pregnant person and Sanji has worms in his brain about being useful to Pretty Gorls.

And as @whirlibird put it:

losing it thinking about sanji in the 3rd trimester trying to kick someone crew, horrified Sanji, about to tip the fuck over Chopper: BED REST. ABSOLUTELY VITAL YOU BE ON BED REST. Sanji: I feel fine though. You said I was fine last week. Chopper: THAT WAS BEFORE YOU TRIED TO AX KICK ZORO.

"Sanji, you're glowing! Pregnancy really suits y--" "Eat shit and die."

Also, thinking about Zeff holding his grandchildren.

Someone goes off to get him because Sanji made an offhand comment about wanting his adoptive dad to be there for the birth and so THEY GOTTA GET ZEFF.

For a plotty element, also...

Possibility: One of Sanji's kids is trans and after some awkward "I am going to be supportive and hope I don't show any of my Kamabaka memories on my face" conversations and some time (a few months? Years, if they aren't totally sure yet?) to adjust later, Sanji calls up Ivankov like

"Hey, so, I haven't discussed it with the person on question yet because I'm not sure I have enough goodwill with you, but... there's this person I know who'd like to transition..."

Ivankov BOOKS it to help Sanji and whoever the friend is. Almost cries upon figuring out it's Sanji's own kid.

Prof:

Sanji is crying. ivankov is crying. The kid is crying. Everyone is ugly crying.

(IDK if this is a setting with trans Sanji or fem Sanji or someone else was pregnant or the kid was adopted or what, just that the canon-esque tension is there so it was notable and important that Sanji works on it.)

#Sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji #one piece #Tony Tony Chopper #Emporio Ivankov #Red Leg Zeff #phoenix talks #mpreg #pregnancy mention