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aurelieprigent465 · 1 year

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Best Career Coaching Services

Aurelie Prigent passion is to accompany their clients to achieve their goals, meet their challenges, and cope with difficult situations, by providing them with a space. Do you want to get the best career coaching Services? If yes, then get in touch with us today to book an appointment at +65 97310492.

#certified leadership coach #singapore career coaching #best career coach singapore #best career coaching services

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purplenestbynehal · 16 hours

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Best career counselling in Delhi

Arnav's journey from confusion to clarity showcases the power of self-discovery. Let us help you unlock your potential and find a career that aligns with your passions and strengths. Reach out to Purplenest 💜 today for personalized career guidance!

#Best career counselling in Delhi #career coach #professional career counselor #career coaching #career counselling delhi #career counselling services #career counsellors #delhi

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manasastuff-blog · 25 days

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"Congratulations to all the Class 10th Passed Students"#10result2024#ap10th#trending#viral

Congratulations to all the class 10th passed students! 🎓 Are you looking to build a successful future in the field of defense? Look no further! Manasa Defence Academy is here to provide the best defense coaching in India. With experienced instructors and comprehensive study materials, we ensure that our students are fully prepared to excel in their exams and achieve their dreams of serving the nation. Join us at Manasa Defence Academy and take the first step towards a promising career in defense. 🌟

Call : 77997 99221 Website : www.manasadefenceacademy.com

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fronthunt · 4 months

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Front Hunt: Navigating Your Career Journey with Expert Career Coaching

Introduction

Job training needs to be understood

It takes more than just academic qualifications to create a successful career journey. The modern workforce requires a combination of skills, communication and strategic planning. This is where career coaching play a key role, guiding individuals through the nuances of the job market and helping them make informed decisions. FrontHunt recognizes the importance of personalized career counseling tailored to individual strengths, aspirations and challenges.

The FrontHunt Method

Front Hunt achieves its distinction by taking a comprehensive approach to job separation. Their team of experienced professionals understands that everyone’s journey is unique and requires a customized plan. Through one-on-one meetings, business assessments and mentoring programs, FrontHunt gives individuals the tools they need to better shape their careers.

Career counselling for personal development

FrontHunt’s career counselling services go a long way to understanding an individual’s strengths, weaknesses, interests and aspirations. Through thorough assessments, career coaches at FrontHunt identify areas for improvement and development, developing a strategy for individual employee development This personalized approach ensures that training is personalized to the individual each unique needs, and creates the right environment for success to flourish.

Strategic career advice

Navigating the professional world can be challenging, especially for those entering the workforce or considering a career change. FrontHunt’s career advice is based on industry insights and market data, providing individuals with a strategic perspective. From applying for jobs to preparing for interviews, the platform provides practical guidance to help individuals stand out in a competitive job market.

Skills development and training

In today’s rapidly evolving job market, acquiring and honing the right skills is essential for career advancement. FrontHunt recognizes the importance of skills development and offers targeted training programs to help individuals stay at the forefront of their industries. Whether it’s mastering new technology, developing leadership skills, or improving communication skills, Front Hunt’s internships incorporate a holistic approach to skill development.

Mentoring programs for long-term success

FrontHunt understands the impact of mentoring on business growth. The platform offers individuals and experienced advisors who offer valuable insights, guidance and industry expertise. The mentoring programs offered by FrontHunt are a bridge between experienced professionals and those willing to learn and grow in their careers. This collaborative approach creates a supportive community where individuals can thrive.

The impact of face hunting on entrepreneurial success

FrontHunt has earned a reputation as a transformative force in internships. The seminar objectives of personalized career advice, strategic guidance, skills development and mentoring have resulted in many success stories of individuals who have used Front Hunt services, reporting increased confidence, job searches improved productivity and a clearer understanding of their business processes.

Conclusion

In the fast-paced and competitive world of professional development, FrontHunt emerges as a guiding light for individuals looking to advance their careers FrontHunt offers a holistic approach to career success through careers internal personalized coaching, comprehensive mentoring, strategic advice, skills development and mentoring based programs Long-term employee fulfilment Front Hunt stands as a testament to the career-changing power of specialized vocational training in employee success shaping the future.

#best career coaching #best career counselor #career advice #career counseling services #career guidance

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ranjith11 · 9 months

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youtube

How To Start A Consulting Business | Walt Hampton

We get these questions all the time… How do I start consulting biz? How do I launch a coaching practice? Where do I begin? Not with business building. But rather with lifestyle design. You see, if you’re one of the rare ones who actually have the courage and the audacity to leave a career that is no longer bringing you satisfaction and joy, then why not create the life you really want? Because once you’ve done that, everything else is a piece o’ cake.

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springforwardresumes01 · 10 months

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Career Coaching Services - Spring Forward Resumes

Remove the pressure from CV creation and Career Coaching Services by considering the top Spring Forward Resumes. Our professionals are here to make sure your resume accurately reflects your abilities. Our skilled career coaches provide individualized advice and support to help you effectively negotiate job transitions, set worthwhile objectives, and realize your full potential. Our career coaching services are designed to provide you with the tools, strategies, and self-assurance you need to succeed, whether you're looking to explore new career paths, advance in your job, or enhance your professional skills. Our coaches are dedicated to aiding you in making educated decisions and taking proactive actions toward a happy and successful career, from evaluating your abilities and interests to developing effective job search methods and interview skills.

#Résumé Writing Services New York #Ny #Career Coach Resume Writer Professional #Linkedin Profile Writing Services #Best Interview Coaching Services

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dseducationhub · 1 year

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How Career Counselling Can Shape Your Career?

The pursuit of a successful career path requires education, which is a great tool. A safe and happy future is ensured with a quality education. However choosing and moving towards the best job path for oneself becomes a mammoth undertaking given the fierce competition and abundance of possibilities. In order to choose the best solutions from the enormous variety of options present in the space, both parents and pupils are perplexed.

The function of an education consultant is to facilitate the selection process. It is the responsibility of education consultants to make sure that the advice given to students best reflects their abilities and preferences.

It is crucial to pick an education consultant carefully because they will be the ones to teach you and help you anytime you need it. Here are some suggestions for choosing an international education consultant.

Success Rate of International Education Advisors

Being an education consultant is one thing, but being a successful education consultant is quite another. Approaching an education consultant with the goal of making the admissions process simple and successful is one of the key goals. Consequently, it is important that you thoroughly investigate the consultant and learn about their success rate; a high success rate is a sign that they are knowledgeable and competent.

Customer Reviews

Check out the reviews left by previous customers of the education consultants you've chosen. Ask them about their professionalism and their interactions with previous clients of that particular education consultant who used their services. Before spending your time and money, it is wise to conduct a background investigation from reputable sources.

Knowledge and Skill of International Education Consultants

A reputable education consultant will possess a respectable level of knowledge and experience. Education consultants must also possess a variety of skills that enable them to collaborate effectively with teachers, parents, administrators, and students at various educational levels. Throughout the years, seasoned consultants have refined their skill sets and honed their ability to deliver expectations without ambiguity.

The openness of consultants for international education

One of the aspects to take into account when picking an international education consultant is transparency. The experts should pay close attention to your wants while also explaining and assisting you if your criteria need to be rewritten. Also, they are eager to respond to any parent and student issues with the utmost sincerity. There should be transparency at every stage, whether it is in the admissions process or the prices they charge for their services.

Advice on visas and college choice

A quicker and more efficient application and admissions procedure will be ensured by an expert education adviser.

Hence, it is crucial to ask about the visa application process, their method for selecting the best schools, the benefits and drawbacks, and their function in providing work help. The education consultant must provide convincing answers to these crucial issues.

Being the initial step towards the ideal professional path, students play a key part in the lives of education consultants. Doing your homework is therefore crucial before entrusting your future to them. Ask as many questions as you need to till you are pleased with the answers; discomfort is important for a bright future.

#career counselling services bagha purana #Best PTE in Bagha purana #ielts institute in bagha purana #ielts coaching center in moga #ielts coaching classes in moga #moga ielts centre

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thecareerscompany · 2 years

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Career Coaching

Get the best Career Coaching from the leading company to go ahead with your career in a positive direction. The Careers Company has a certified team of career consultants who provide the best career coaching over years.

#career coaching #best career coaching #career coaching service

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bradshawssugarbaby · 1 month

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Meet The Teacher - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley Bradshaw's re-entering civilian life with a new mission - teaching second grade.

a/n: thank you to @nerdgirljen for suggesting the idea with her breakdown of Bradley's military file, and thank you to @floydsmuse, @mamachasesmayhem, and @purelyfiction for reading this over for me last night 😅

pairing: teacher!Bradley Bradshaw x single mom!reader (last name is given to reader) warnings/content: mentions of trauma/injury, mentions of death/parent loss, Bradley pining for a student's mom, allusions to smut (masturbating (m)).

word count: 2.9k

taglist: @avengersfan25 @nouis-bum @sorchathered @hangmansgbaby @sarahsmi13s @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @b-bradshaw @djs8891 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue @seitmai @unhinged-bitch @mattyskies

“You’ve got this, Bradshaw. You’ve got this. It’s just two dozen second graders. You’ve flown fighter jets and stared enemy aircraft in the eye, shot them down midair, you can handle a classroom of second graders.”

Bradley repeated his mantra over and over in the rearview mirror of his car, taking a deep breath as he nodded his head. He adjusted the collar on his baby blue and white striped dress shirt, fingers tracing over the silver chain of his dog tags. His breath hitched in his throat as he ran his fingertip over the beaded chain, letting it out in a strained sigh. He was venturing into uncharted waters here, and he was beginning to wonder if he was in over his head.

Six months ago, he was flying planes, one of the US Navy’s finest aviators. He’d never cared much about what he could have been doing if he hadn’t become a pilot - he’d known as long as he could remember that he wanted to fly. Since his accident though, he began to process all the things he’d let himself miss out on over the past 18 years. At 40 years old, he knew he was pushing his body to its limits, but he didn’t think he’d reached that threshold yet.

He was wrong.

It’d been a routine flight exercise, the kind he’d done about 40,000 times before in his career. His plane’s engine cut out, a mechanical failure beyond anyone’s control that couldn’t have been predicted. He kept his composure, pulled the ejection handle and parachuted his way to the ground below. In an ideal situation, he would have landed perfectly, safe and sound and taken to the hospital for observation but released the next day.

Instead, he’d blown his knee out on his landing, making walking next to impossible, let alone flying.

Presented with his options, returning to flying seemed unlikely. His knee would only likely get worse, and he realized, he sort of liked the idea of settling down someday — he knew forty was a little late in life to realize it, but damn it, he did want a family. He didn’t want to be that dad who couldn’t keep up with his kid. He wanted to be an active, fun parent like he’d remembered his mom being in her lifetime. He wanted to be able to dance with his new bride at his wedding, if it ever happened, and he couldn’t do any of that if his knee was fucked beyond repair.

Dreams of coaching Little League and dancing around kitchens in the soft, yellow glow of overhead lights had suddenly flashed before him in his hospital room, and when the proposition of an honourable discharge came up, an offer absolving him of any guilt for abandoning his post in the pursuit of a civilian little fairytale life, he seized it. He loved flying, but he knew he couldn’t do it forever, despite his best efforts. He needed something to fall back on. And if these hopes and dreams suddenly crossing his mind — having a wife and a family, being a doting dad — were to come true, he needed to start somewhere.

Bradley always swore he’d never leave a wife and family behind. He’d seen what happened when a service member didn’t come home first hand - his dad was killed in a training incident when he was just over two years old, and he’d seen how his whole world turned on its side when it happened. Even as a toddler, he remembered a lot of crying from his mother, and suddenly noticing a huge absence in his life that couldn’t be explained.

He didn’t understand what happened until he turned five, when he finally worked up the courage to ask his mom where his dad was. Why he left. Why he didn’t want to be home with Bradley. The moment he was old enough to decide his career path, he knew he wouldn’t be able to put a wife and children through the things he and his mom had been through. He was better off alone if he was serving. And it suited him just fine for the most part. The odd pang of jealousy when a colleague got married, the occasional feeling that he was missing out on something each time someone he knew announced the arrival of a new baby — they were easy enough to ignore when he focused his attention on his work.

Now, sitting in his parked car, an hour before the start of the school year, he was talking himself through how to survive his first day in his chosen back-up profession — teaching.

He’d minored in education studies at university when he went. He’d promised his mother when he was applying to colleges that he’d pick a good back-up option to flying, just in case he didn’t get into the academy, and everyone knew he was great with kids. He’d often babysat for his mom’s friends, volunteered to coach softball teams and run summer camps at the community centre throughout high school. Teaching seemed like a no-brainer.

He let out a heavy sigh as he strolled into the school, his head held high, lesson plans tucked neatly in a file folder under his arm, his coffee cup in the other hand. He was ready to face the day, and whatever these seven-year-olds had to throw at him.

The day went on without a hitch, much to Bradley’s relief. Twenty-three little darlings sat in their desks, on their best behaviour for their first day of class. He knew it was unlikely that they’d continue to be so well-behaved, but he savoured it while it lasted. His co-workers seemed laidback and relaxed, friendly smiles and waves exchanged frequently in passing, words of advice and encouragement spoken at length over lunch and prep times.

Three o’clock came faster than anticipated, and Bradley felt like he’d barely covered any of his plans for the day. At dismissal, he’d politely waved goodbye to each and every child, introducing himself to the parents he’d missed that morning at drop off, and greeting the ones he’d already met with brief updates about their child’s day. The last child to be picked up was a sweet little boy, with blonde hair and hazel eyes, freckles dotted across the bridge of his nose. Bradley’s brown eyes scanned over the attendance record in his hand. Wells Montgomery.

At 3:10, Wells had grown bored of kicking his soccer ball around the grassy area around the side of the school. He picked his ball up under his arm and hurried back to Bradley.

“Mr. Bradshaw, is my mom here yet?”

“Not yet, bud. She’s probably stuck in traffic coming over the bridge into town. You know, it gets really busy around now. Do you want to come inside and read for a little bit in the classroom?” Bradley squinted, the sun shining brightly into his eyes as he scanned the parking lot for anyone who might be Wells’ mother.

“Ok,” Wells said with a heavy sigh. Bradley furrowed his brow for a moment before looking back to Wells as the two of them headed back into the building.

By 3:20, Bradley was beginning to worry about his new pupil. He didn’t anticipate a parent going missing-in-action on him on his first day of teaching, but faced with the possibility, he began going through the list of possible actions he could take. Just as he pondered over the idea of taking Wells down to the staff room to rummage the cupboards for a still-at-school-after-school snack, you came practically flying through the door, a panicked expression on your face, cheeks reddening when you saw Wells sitting at his desk, quietly reading.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I got held up in a meeting until 2:45, and then traffic was a nightmare, everything was backed up and there’s only two ways onto the island but I couldn’t ditch my car to take the ferry over, I’m so sorry,” you apologized profusely, nodding your head as you looked from Wells, to the teacher seated in the desk and back again, unsure who you needed to apologize to more.

Bradley turned to face you, his eyes raking over you as he assessed the situation. Dressed in a fitted lilac coloured pencil skirt, white tank-top and matching lilac coloured blazer, you looked like something out of a dream to him. He’d never given much thought about what his type in women was before. He’d dated blondes, brunettes, redheads, the occasional girl with bright pink hair, curvy girls, petite girls, mid-sized girls - he never had much of a preference one way or the other as far as appearances went, but God, if he had to sum up his dream girl right now - you were it.

“It’s alright, honestly,” Bradley nodded his head, smiling warmly at you in an effort to ease your concerns. “I’m Mr. Bradshaw, Wells’ teacher for second grade. He’s had a great day today, we were just about to head down to the staff room and see if there were any rogue granola bars hiding in the cupboard for him and I to share.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, your expression softening as Bradley spoke, an instant wave of relief washing over you. “You ready to go, Wellsy?”

“Mom, please,” Wells whined, shaking his head as he grabbed his book and shoved it into his backpack. “She thinks I’m a baby,” he griped, turning to Bradley for a sympathetic smile.

“Moms, huh? Mine was the same way with me.” Bradley laughed softly, waving as you and Wells headed out.

Later that night, Bradley sat on his couch, settling in to watch a baseball game as he poured over the plans for the upcoming week. Cracking open his beer bottle, he sipped the drink, sighing tiredly as he read over the social studies plan, visiting the list of important historical figures he was expected to familiarize the class with over the course of the school year. With one hand, shakily written notes were made in a notebook, scribbling out ideas for fun ways to engage the kids with each important person he was required to introduce.

Setting the beer down on a coaster, he exchanged it for a slice of greasy pizza, his reward for himself at the end of a successful first day of school. He shovelled it into his mouth, sighing as he watched the baseball game unfold. The Padres were down 3-7 in the bottom of the eighth, with not much hope left for them to pull through tonight. Bradley swallowed his mouthful, brushing the grease off his hands onto the leg of his grey sweatpants.

Bradley yawned, tired bleary eyes blinking as he padded down the hallway to his bedroom. He sighed softly and settled into bed, his mind wandering as his head rested on the pillow. Before he realized it, you were on his mind. He’d thought about you a lot that evening, brief intrusions of your smile flashing through his mind as he tried to plan out the upcoming week.

This time though, as he laid there looking up at his ceiling, he thought about your apologies for being late, how it felt like you were pleading with him or Wells to not be upset with you. He thought about how your hair, although tousled from clearly running through parking lots to your car and to the school, framed your face perfectly, and how even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the classroom, you managed to look nothing short of beautiful.

He thought about how well the soft, purple hue of your skirt and blazer suited you, bringing out the glow of your skin and the colour of your eyes. He thought about how it hugged your curves as you left, hand in hand with Wells, the swish of your hips as you walked down the hallway. He thought about how he was pretty sure he didn’t see a wedding band on your finger, but also admonished himself for even checking. He couldn’t date a student’s parent. He knew better than that.

But still, he couldn’t help but think about you.

The next couple of weeks went by and Bradley’s interest in you grew fonder. He’d begun watching for you subtly at morning drop-offs and pick-ups, hoping to at least say hello once a day. On the last Friday of the month, you stopped him as he headed for his car, watching as Wells played on the playground equipment facing the parking lot.

“Mr. Bradshaw!” you called out, and Bradley couldn’t help but feel like you were making his name sound like a chorus of angels singing.

“Hey, Mrs. Montgomery! Is everything ok?” Bradley asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Everything’s fine, yes,” you nodded, smiling as you gently corrected him about your name. You hadn’t been Mrs. Montgomery in two years, but, you couldn’t fault Bradley for slipping up, you knew the school secretary likely didn’t alert him ahead of time. You stifled a giggle as Bradley’s cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, now his turn to apologize profusely to you.

You waved a hand dismissively and smiled, turning to watch Wells play once again.

“You know, it may have only been a few weeks, but Wells speaks very highly of you,” you started, nodding in confirmation as you watched him play, your gaze turning to land on Bradley for a moment, “He hasn’t been this interested in anything since his dad moved across the country.”

“Oh? I’m glad I could help him enjoy school again. I try my best to keep things fun and exciting in the classroom — kids learn better when they’re excited and interested in something. No one has fun being read to from a textbook over and over again all day,” Bradley explained.

“Well, Mr. Bradshaw, you’re doing a really good job of it. He came home excited to tell me that he learned about George Washington yesterday. I’m pretty sure two days ago he had no idea who that was.”

“Please,” Bradley laughed softly, shaking his head, “You can call me Bradley. It’s less formal.”

“Bradley,” you repeated, nodding as you chuckled to yourself, “Bradley Bradshaw?”

“My dad had a sense of humour,” Bradley shrugged, looking out at the playground as Wells chased one of his friends around. “He’s a good kid, you know. Wells.”

“I know, I’m proud of how well he’s handling things now that his dad got relocated. Pensacola’s a lot further than he anticipated. He was hoping for Corpus Christi at least.”

Bradley’s ears piqued at the mention of Wells’ dad relocating. Pensacola and Corpus Christi both housed Naval Air bases, he was more than familiar with both of them. He’d only ever been stationed between Oceana, Miramar and North Island, but in his eighteen years of service, he’d met plenty of service members who hailed from one of the two bases originally.

“Wells’ dad is a pilot?”

“Mhmm, well, mechanic, actually. He doesn’t fly them in combat,” you commented, raising an eyebrow at Bradley. “You seemed to guess that really well. Most people don’t guess pilot.”

“I used to be a Naval pilot, m’am,” he nodded, smiling proudly as he thought about his accomplished Naval career once again. “Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw, US Naval Air Force. I was stationed at NAS Oceana, transferred here to North Island, wrecked my knee, now I’m a teacher.”

“That’s quite the pipeline into teaching, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Please, it’s Bradley. It’s nice not going by my rank, actually.”

“Well, Bradley, I’d love to hear how exactly you landed on teaching second grade as a backup to flying F/A-18s for the United States Navy some day.” You nodded, hoping Bradley wouldn’t take offence to the suggestion of getting together at some point. Even if it was just as friends, you’d welcome it.

“That sounds like a good idea to me, actually. I’d love to.”

As Bradley headed to his car, he felt a little bounce in his step. He couldn’t help himself. Even if this just turned into a friendship and nothing more, he felt grateful that you wanted to spend time getting to know him better.

His drive home was filled with more thoughts of you, thoughts of your pretty pastel coloured outfits you always seemed to favour, thoughts of your perfect smile, always beaming and cheerful, bright enough to brighten his entire day in a way that should make the sun jealous, thoughts of your hair, how it always looked so perfectly imperfect.

In bed that night, Bradley thought about your legs, how they were long and lean, curving at your thigh. He thought about how good your ass looked in your skirt earlier today, how the material hugged it tightly. He thought about your thighs, how they looked so perfectly smooth and soft, how your plain white t-shirt that was tucked into your skirt did little to hide the swell of your breasts, and the way the curve of your neck looked irresistible, how badly he wanted to plant his lips on your skin and cover you in a trail of kisses.

Bradley thought about you in a lot of ways that night. None of them were ways he was proud of. But as he stared up at the ceiling this time, you were the only thing on his mind. He didn’t know much about how he’d go about this newfound infatuation with you. All he knew was that if he was going to settle down with anyone, he was almost positive it would be with you.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x y/n

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rainybubbles · 1 month

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COD men and civilian jobs

I was wondering for you, what would COD men do if they had a civilian job?

Please share your opinionnnn !!!

So :

-I imagine Soap as a firefighter or a sports coach; he loves people and craves the thrill of adrenaline.

-Gaz could be a teacher, emanating a calm aura, and I see him excelling with kids or teenagers. Alternatively, he might thrive as a doctor or surgeon in the ER due to his ability to handle stressful situations. (the question is what subject as a teacher ?)

-Ghost might be best suited as a mechanic or a cook. He possesses exceptional skills but dislikes client service or social interaction. With his preference for routine, a career as a cook suits him well.

-Price would excel as a history teacher, particularly at the university level. (I've seen so many fics about it, I love it each times) His passion for guiding and assisting others, leading them to achieve their Ph.D. or dreams, aligns perfectly with this role.

-Nikolai's fit is obvious—he'd make an excellent pilot, perhaps in Formula 1, or even a taxi driver.

-Alex's strong sense of justice suggests a career in the legal system, perhaps initially as a lawyer defending large corporations before realizing the ethical implications and shifting to advocate for the underprivileged, akin to Murdock.

-Farah's natural inclination toward defending people's rights makes her a perfect fit for a career in politics. She would thrive in electoral campaigns and fighting for social justice issues, embodying the qualities of a strong leader.

-Laswell also exudes political vibes, aligning with a similar career trajectory, or maybe an interpret.

-König seems suited to be a baker, I am possibly influenced by reading too much about bakeries featuring Konig. Additionally, baking often serves as a coping mechanism for anxiety, which could resonate with him. Imagining him in a quaint local bakery in a peaceful village feels fitting.

-Alejandro's need for action suggests a career as an MMA fighter or a police officer. (it sounds dumb, but it makes sense in my mind-)His inherent drive to confront challenges and conflicts makes him well-suited for such physically demanding roles.

-Rudy appears outwardly calm but harbors a fiery passion. He might have been an ex-athlete who suffered a severe injury, leading him to find solace in a quieter profession like being a librarian. This juxtaposition of calmness and inner fire aligns well with such a career path.

Tell me your opinion, I really want to write a "how you meet them" in this AU, so does it sound good for you or not ?

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #alex keller x reader #farah karim x reader #nikolai x reader #kate laswell x reader

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rustedhearts · 1 year

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Got It Bad (Boxer!Steve x Librarian!Fem!reader)

summary: steve's sudden rise to pro-boxing fame comes with a change of scenery, and new (old) friends

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the steve collection ♡

♡ the rockstar!eddie setlist by @carolmunson ♡

warnings: a dash of angst, the return of our lovable rockstar (actually our first time meeting him in this au though), a smidge of smut, mention of alcohol, mention of drugs/addiction.

a/n: for reference, libby is 19, steve is 23, eddie is 25

february, 1990

Steve's rise to fame came faster than either of you could imagine.

The man himself seemed unprepared for how quickly endorsements flocked to him, willing to make up contracts and pay him a large chunk of change to promote them on his his first hop around the country. Steve signed a ten month contract at the end of December that went into affect New Year's day: his legal agreement to professionally beat the shit out of people on camera and make money doing it. His first televised fight was at the end of January, and he was a nervous wreck the whole month leading up to it.

When he inevitably won, he spent a little too much money on celebratory champagne and a hotel room, where you spent an entire weekend living a life you just couldn't get used to. Chocolate-covered strawberries, room service, sex all day, rose-petal baths, and everyone willing to make your stay as comfortable as possible. It didn't seem real, all this attention.

Now that he was making a name for himself—and making money he didn't know what to do with—he needed a manager. Big, his coach, made some calls and found Mikey Santorini, an LA based manager willing to take Steve on.

And for the promise you made to each other? Well, you didn't break it. Maybe that was the problem.

You told the library you'd be back soon, but you knew that was a lie. They made you a "bon voyage" basket, full of special edition covers of your favorite books and handmade bookmarks. You cried when your coworker, Lisa, presented it to you. The library wasn't just a job—it was your safe haven. You'd memorized every aisle, knew where every author lied. You had no idea when you'd see it again.

"We can visit a library in every city, I promise, baby," Steve told you when you came to his apartment sniffling.

You tried not to dwell on how easily he brushed aside the fact that you were putting your career on hold for him. You tried not to stop and think about that for too long, either. You loved Steve, didn't that matter more?

On the first of February, you said goodbye to your family.

Steve carried your luggage down the stairs from your bedroom. Your parents and younger brother, Nick, lined up near the front door, watching silently as he came in and out. Every time he hurried down the snow-coated front steps, your bedroom looked a little emptier.

When the last of it was in Steve's hands, you trudged down after him, heart tugging at the sight of your family all huddled together. Your mother wasn't doing much to conceal her tears, though your father seemed to be doing his best to console her. Nick looked unimpressed, a bored expression plastered across his chubby cheeks—but you knew him better than that, and those big eyes said it all. He was just as sad as you were to say goodbye.

Steve stopped near the front door, turning to flash you a small smile. "I'll give you a minute, okay?"

You nodded, accepting his gentle peck on the mouth. You watched him go, pulling the screen door closed behind him to bring warmth back to the house. A black SUV sat on the curb, supervised by Big in the driver seat. You only had a few hours before you had to be on the road. It would take all day to drive to California from here.

Rubbing your slick palms on your denim thighs, you turned to face your family.

"Um, so...this is it, I guess."

Your mother sniffled, wiping at her glistening cheeks. Her wedding ring glistened in the morning light. When she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around you, your heart burst. She smelled just how she always did, her perfume sweet and soothing, her hair drenched in the same hairspray she'd been using since you were a girl. Her sweater was soft, her skin warm, and you could feel the cool metal of the necklace she never took off pressing against your neck.

"I can't believe my baby girl is leaving," she hiccuped.

Your father reached forward and pinched the back of your mother's sweater, gently guiding her away from you. Tears pooled in your eyes and lodged in your throat, but you swallowed them down as your father opened his arms. You knew if you cried, so would your father, and then they'd never let you leave. But it suddenly felt so real, this departure.

"Call us every day, okay, pumpkin?" Your father muttered against the top of your hair.

You nodded, pressing your cheek to his chest, squeezing your arms tight around his stomach. He rubbed your back for a moment before letting go with a kiss to the head. You knew it was for his own good that he didn't hold on for too long.

You turned to Nick with a grin, punching his arm as hard as you could. He scowled, rubbing at it with a yelp.

"Gonna miss me, squirt?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

You swallowed hard, chest growing tighter by the second. He was only a freshman in high school, and you grew up looking forward to helping him through it. Now, you wouldn't be here to see what sort of shit he got into, or bail him out of any trouble he'd inevitably get roped into. You'd miss his first homecoming, his first football game, his first girlfriend.

"I'll miss you," you admitted.

Nick's eyes cast down at his socked feet, arms dropping to his sides. He balled his hands into fists, and you knew he was inches away from tears.

"Whatever. Don't die, I guess."

You giggled. "Okay."

"Hey." Steve came rushing back into the house, cheeks pink from the wind, your luggage shoved into the trunk of the SUV. "Ready to go?"

You nodded, flashing your family another smile. "I guess I'll see you guys soon. I'll call the minute we get there. Steve's fight is on channel three, you can watch it!"

Steve cocked a sheepish grin, crossing his arms over his chest. Your mother barely glanced at him, reaching out to give you one last firm squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. You didn't even mind the glossy lip print she left in her wake.

Your father reached out and clasped Steve on the shoulder.

"You take good care of my girl, you hear me? If I find out anything happened to her, I swear to fucking god—"

"—Dad!"

Steve remained steadily stoic under your father's disapproving frown and sharp glare. "I understand, sir. I'd never let anything happen to her, I swear."

Your father nodded curtly before releasing Steve. Steve's hand instantly sought the small of your back, pulling you into him gently. You waved at your family, blowing your mother a kiss.

"Bye, I love you guys."

On your way down the street, you watched your mother cry in the front window, and your father wrap his arms around her.

♡ ♡

You had three days before the fight, though they all seemed jam-packed with events and training. You barely had a second to unpack your clothes at the hotel before you were being hauled off to another sweaty, humid gym.

But on the second day, Steve woke up early and rolled toward your side of the bed, smacking kisses all over your bare neck. You squirmed in your sleep, waking with a gasp when his teeth sank into your throat.

"Steve," you squeaked, sighing contentedly when he tugged you flush against his bare chest.

"Morning, my angel," he murmured into your bare skin.

Half-asleep and bleary, a hum rumbled through your throat, hand rising to bat around for Steve's fluffy hair. When you found it, you pushed your fingers through the heap of it, stroking for your own comfort. Steve nuzzled further into your neck, unable to control himself from pressing another eager kiss to the underside of the jaw. You smelled so good in the morning, and you skin was always so warm and soft.

"Morning, Stevie."

Your voice sent a jolt through his chest. He smiled to himself, tightening his arms around your waist. He couldn't believe this was his life.

"Got a call from an old buddy ," he announced, playing with the satin of your sleep tank. "He lives in California now, said he wants to get together and catch up. Invited us to his band practice today."

You hummed, rubbing at your eyes. You still weren't used to sleeping anywhere other than Steve's lumpy mattress at his old apartment, or the same bed you'd been sleeping in since you were young. Sleep didn't come easy away from home.

"He's in a band?" A yawn split your mouth open. You tossed around a moment, still caged in Steve's arms, until you were on your back.

You pried your eyes open and smiled at Steve, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his jaw with your nails. He eased into it like a cat. He forced his eyes open, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at you. Fondness drenched his features, eyes twinkling with a look only you were lucky enough to see. He swept two fingers across your forehead to brush your hair out of your eyes, letting them drag down your cheek gently.

"Yep, ever since Hawkins days."

Your brows jumped. "Oh, he's from Hawkins, too?"

Steve pinched your chin between his thumb and knuckle, tipping your head up to bare your mouth to him.

"Yep." He bent and pressed your mouths together. "Went..." Another kiss, head tipping to explore different angles of your mouth. "...to high school..." He flicked his tongue along your bottom lip and nipped at it. "...together."

You squirmed on the mattress below him, cheeks warming and thighs squeezing together. Your fingers dug into his bulging biceps with need as he situated himself over you. Your thighs stung with the stretch needed to accommodate him.

"Can't wait to meet him."

Steve lowered his pelvis to press flush against yours, snatching a sharp gasp from your throat. His erection throbbed against your panties, satin sleep shorts abandoned on the floor from last night. He smirked at the little sound, running the tip of his nose along your collarbones, blowing hot air across your tender morning skin. He had you shivering like the cold and he'd barely even touched you.

"Mhm, later. Right now, I gotta take care a' my girl."

He disappeared beneath the covers, wedged between your legs thrown over his shoulders. He spent thirty minutes suffocating between them just to hear you whine and cry, and didn't let up until your face was burning red.

♡ ♡

After three hours in the gym and a quick shower, you climbed into the SUV with Steve to meet his friend. It was much warmer here in California—you weren't used to having bare shoulders and exposed legs in February. You wore one of Steve's favorite dresses, a piece from your mother's closet that she gifted to you when she could no longer fit into it. Steve said it made you look like "one of those disco girls, but in a really hot way."

You expected to arrive at a shabby house with a garage full of instruments, so all you could do was frown in confusion when Steve pulled against the curb of The Troubadour.

"Um...Steve?"

Steve popped the glovebox, rifling through the mess of papers and cassettes before pulling out his sunglasses. He shoved them over his eyes and slammed it closed. "Huh?"

You were slow to take your seatbelt off, still glancing through the window with a pout. "What band did you say your friend was in?"

Steve hopped out of the car, and you instantly pulled the visor down to check your lipstick and the state of your hair before he reached your side. When he helped you out of the car, he was quick to wrap his arm around your shoulders and guide you toward the door, though he hadn't answered your question.

Inside, any glimpse of the California sunlight disappeared into darkness. The stage was massive, much too big for a small time band, and you found your eyes bouncing around frantically toward each band poster on the wall for some sort of hint. Steve seemed to know exactly where he was going, though, and guided you toward a door just off the stage.

The plucky twang of guitar strings and the rowdy chorus of male laughter echoed from a room down the hall. Your nerves suddenly felt cold. This was a big time band, and you were just some small town girl.

Sunglasses and brown bomber jacket on, Steve stomped down the hall with you under his arm like he'd been here all his life. You admired that air of confidence and ease.

Steve shoved the door at the end of the hall open, revealing a small cinderblock room with a sectional, tables of alcohol and food wrappers, and a gaggle of men in black leather.

Corroded Coffin.

"Holy shi—"

"Harrington! You made it, man."

Eddie Munson, frontman for Corroded Coffin, came staggering toward Steve with his arms out. Steve kept one around you as he clasped Eddie on the back; two large, leather-padded smacks rang through the room. Your cheeks suddenly felt very warm and swollen. You glanced past Eddie toward the rest of the band, talking amongst themselves and nursing beer. They all glistened with a sheen of sweat, and the room reeked with a haze of alcohol and cigarettes.

You never thought you'd see them outside of the poster on your closet door or the album on your bookshelf.

"And who's this cutie?"

You turned, feeling the heat of the sun gather in your face at the sight of two black eyes steadied on you. Eddie's hair was as large and wild as ever, eyes rimmed with smudged eyeliner, a heavy silver chain around his neck, another one clinking on the low belt loop of his jeans when he crossed his arms and smirked at you. You swallowed, pressing closer to Steve.

"This is my girl, Libby. Libby, this is—"

"—I know who you are," you squeaked. You seemed to be growing hotter by the second, though that seemed out of the realm of possibility.

Eddie's brows shot up, and he tossed a quick glance toward Steve. "That so? Harrington, you didn't tell me you caught yourself a little metalhead."

Steve pushed his glasses to the top of his head, sliding his hand down to your waist. "News to me, Munson."

To ease the sudden stiffness between the two hulking men, you shot your hand out toward Eddie with a saccharine smile. "Nice to meet you."

Eddie's laughter made you start to pull back, but he suddenly bent at the waist and accepted your hand, shaking it with a gentle bow. "And you, sweetheart. C'mon, take a seat. I wanna hear all about this fight, Harrington."

Steve pulled you onto his lap when he sank down on the leather sectional, and you were slightly grateful for it after seeing the sight of those sticky cushions. His big hands splayed across your bare thighs, pulling the hem of your dress down a little further.

Eddie sat across from you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, ringed hands reaching toward a bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor. He pulled the top and poured a stream into his mouth. You inwardly winced when he gulped it down like water, wiping his shiny mouth with the back of his palm.

Eddie held the bottle out, but Steve waved his hand dismissively. Eddie angled the top of the bottle toward you, brows raised. Steve's hand tightened on your thigh, and you smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, no thank you."

If Eddie thought you were lame for denying the alcohol, he didn't show it. Instead, he took another swig and set the bottle on the floor.

"So," he mused, easing back on the sofa, "how'd you two meet?"

Steve drummed his fingers on your thigh, making small tapping sounds, and you slid your fingers through his to interlock them.

"At a party," Steve replied.

Eddie stretched his arm along the back of the sofa. The band lingered in the corner, chatting amongst themselves, though curiously glancing at the pair of you on the sofa. You averted your gaze when the one with shaggy hair dropped his eye in a wink, cheeks burning. If Steve had seen, you knew he would've tossed you aside and gotten his knuckles bloody in a heartbeat.

"Oh! Still the life of the party, Harrington?" Eddie snickered.

You giggled, but Steve only mustered a combination of a smirk and a scowl. "She's from Hawkins, too."

Eddie's eyes rounded with delight, plump lips parting with genuine surprise. He turned to you, and you squished a little closer to Steve, who tapped the side of your thigh with his open palm. "Get my lighter for me, baby?"

You nodded, dipping your hand into the inner pocket of his jacket to fish out the silver zippo. In that time, he'd swiped a cigarette from the table in a random pack, and you brought the lighter to his mouth where the cigarette waited.

"If you're from Hawkins, how come I don't remember you?" Eddie inquired, watching the interaction with amusement.

You snapped the lighter shut and dropped it back into Steve's pocket, watching him inhale a deep drag before blowing it away toward the door. The stench of tobacco used to make you sick, but now it smelled like Steve.

You turned to Eddie and grinned, full-cheeked and sweet. "Oh, you were already in the band by the time I got to high school, and Steve had graduated."

Eddie's smile slipped, eyes sliding to Steve beside you with a slow cock of his head. You tried not to let your smile mimic Eddie's—of disappointment and dismay—and tapped Steve's shoulder.

"I'll be right back."

You placed your heels on the floor to push off and stand up, but Steve tugged you back gently by the arm, cigarette propped in the corner of his mouth. Brows furrowed and lips pulled into a frown, he shook his head.

"Where y' goin', angel?"

You giggled nervously, the back of your neck gathering sweat. "Just to the bathroom, Stevie."

Eddie snickered, sliding a cigarette out of the pack on the table. He brought it to his mouth with his eyes trained solely on the two of you. Steve released your arm and you stood to your feet, bending to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Be right back, promise," you cooed.

You were a few steps from the door when you heard Eddie chuckle. "Yeah, Stevie, she promises."

You skittered down the hall toward the ladies' room, closing the door and sliding the lock over.

While you were gone, Eddie lit his cigarette and leaned forward again, hunched over his lap toward Steve.

"Harrington, how the fuck old is this girl?" His voice was low and grumbly.

Steve rolled his eyes, plucking his sunglasses from the crown of his head to tuck them into his jacket. "She's nineteen, Munson, lay the fuck off."

Eddie chuckled, spluttering clouds of smoke into the air.

"Harrington, be honest with me, did you 'nap her?"

Steve shook his head, tonguing away a sideways grin. It'd been a long time since he'd seen Eddie. Though they went to high school together, they never ran in the same crowds. It wasn't until Steve graduated that he met Eddie at a party, woozy out on coke and Jack with a girl under each arm. At first, they just nodded to each other at parties. But when they got to talking, they realized they could make each other laugh, and bonded over their mutual love for women. That was all it took for a friendship to form.

It seemed Eddie had fallen drunk to the rock and roll life. Steve eyed the end of a tied baggie hanging out of Eddie's jacket wearily. He'd been here with his friend before.

"Nah, man, she uh...she's really great," Steve admitted, trying not to let it show just how much he truly ached for you.

"God, she must be. Callin' you Stevie, laying all over your lap. You got it bad, Harrington," Eddie teased in a musical tone.

Steve tapped his ashes toward the floor, shooting Eddie a glare.

"Not bad enough to stop me kickin' your ass."

Eddie's hands flew up with a giggle. "Oh-ho-ho. C'mon, lemme see those jabs, King Steve. I heard you're taking bodies in the ring."

Eddie leaned over the table, a quick fist appearing to shoot out and punch Steve's arm. Steve quickly retaliated, smacking Eddie upside the head in a much more humiliating act that had Eddie's cheeks burning pink.

The door chittered on its hinges, and all heads turned to watch you quietly tiptoe in. You kept your eyes on the floor the whole brisk journey toward Steve, taking tiny but quick steps. You instantly slid back into his lap, comforted by the weight of his arm around your waist, the callused feel of his hand on your thigh.

Eddie leaned back into the sofa again, all wide shoulders and black hair. He hollowed his cheeks around his cigarette and pulled at his jacket until his arms were free of it, revealing two ivory biceps cut with lean muscle. You instantly burned at the sight of them, scrawled with tattoos, and placed your eyes on your lap.

"So, what d' you do, sweet thing? You in college?" Eddie asked, words escaping him with a coil of smoke.

You glanced at Steve, shaking your head in response. Steve was as stoically blank as ever, and you weren't sure if Eddie's use of pet names bothered him or not.

"Um, no, I'm a librarian—"

"—ooh," Eddie interrupted the moment your occupation left your mouth, lips pouted in an 'o' shape, brows furrowed and eyes scrunched, "sexy."

Steve's fingers dug into your thigh, his spare hand ripping the cigarette from his mouth. You barely had a moment to turn your head and clock the angled position of his brows, the crease in his forehead, before he was pointing his cigarette at Eddie.

"Munson." The single utterance was sharp with warning.

The room went quiet for a split second. You brought your hand to the back of Steve's neck, playing with the ends of his hair, and Eddie's face slowly relaxed into another wide, dimpled smile. His hands rose again, though this time in surrender.

The men shared a look of understanding that went unseen by you. But Steve could see it, the appreciative cock of Eddie's head, the small 'I'm happy for you' coded in the way he nodded. They both knew, deep down, that all Steve ever wanted was to know he could be loved.

"So," Eddie cleared his throat, clasping his hands together with a sharp smack, "you guys stickin' around for the show tonight?"

You visibly perked up, grin returning with a twitch of your lips. Before Steve could even dismiss the idea, you pushed your fingers through his hair and turned to Eddie.

"I'd love to!"

Eddie mirrored your grin, his all dimples and charm, and turned his attention to your scowling boyfriend. Only Steve could see through his friendly joy, and note the mocking amusement that lingered beneath.

"She'd love to, Harrington," Eddie cooed.

Cheeks burning, you peered down at Steve with big, round eyes. "It'll be fun, Steve. Beats being cooped up in that hotel room all night."

You stroked the back of his head languidly, feathering his satin locks between your fingers. You could see the gears turning in his head, thinking over your request. His fingers drummed on your thigh again, arm pressing into your spine. Steve hated saying no to you, but he wasn't sure he could handle a crowded club full of screeching guitars and girls too young to be throwing bras and panties at Eddie.

"Ah, nobody wants that! Come on, Harrington, your girl wants to rock!" Eddie reached out and slapped Steve's knee with the back of his hand.

Steve made a "psh" sound, pinching the bridge of his nose. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, sweet and scented of vanilla flavored lipgloss, and Steve's resolve fizzled into nothing.

"Fuck—fine, whatever," he grumbled.

That earned him a soft squeal of excitement from you, and his face scrunched when you grabbed it with both hands to plant a sticky kiss on his mouth. Eddie grinned at it, the way you could squish Steve's cheeks together and smear pink glitter across his face without being reprimanded for it. It was the clear the hulking athlete had it bad for you.

As Steve gently pulled your hands away, the trill of a phone broke through the muffled chatter and low strum of guitars in the dressing room. Before either of you could stop to wonder where it was coming from, Eddie leapt from the couch. He toppled over bottles on the floor, half tripping on the end of the coffee table on his way to the phone hanging on the wall.

"Hey gorgeous," he gasped into the receiver, slamming himself against the wall, out of breath and eager.

The rest of the band assumed Eddie's side of the sectional, and it was the shaggy blond, Gareth, that leaned forward and grinned. "That's gotta be Rink."

You pulled your brows together. "Rink?"

"Stella? Stella Rink? His girlfriend," Gareth explained.

Your head snapped over to Steve, eyes blown wide. "Stella Rink? Eddie's dating Stella Rink?"

Steve shrugged, pulling the hem of your dress down again. He glared toward the band, whose eyes were skimming over the shape of you.

"Dunno who that is, angel."

You cocked your head at Steve, eyes rolling. "We just saw one of her movies last week. She was the main character, Steve, the really pretty one."

Steve let his head fall back against the leather couch cushions, fixing you with an unamused look.

"Now, why would I be lookin' at another girl when I got you, hmm?"

Your eyes rolled again on their own, though your cheeks grew sore from your giddy smile. Steve ate it up, wrapping a hand around the underside of your jaw to pull you down and attach your mouths together. The band of men on the other couch became forgotten at the taste of foreign cigarettes on his mouth, the stiffness of his lap beneath you.

"You're so full of shit," you giggled against the swipe of his tongue.

Steve nipped at your bottom lip and shrugged. "S' the truth. Can't deny the truth, baby."

The phone returned to the cradle on the wall with a bell's chime, and you pulled away from Steve just in time to see Eddie trudging back. Steve brought his arm up to rest around your shoulders, yanking you down until your head knocked into his.

"How's America's sweetheart, Munson?" Gareth snickered, watching Eddie pout.

"Too busy," the rockstar huffed.

You gnawed on your lip a moment, cheeks warm again. "So, you're really dating Stella Rink?"

Eddie spun to face you with such fervor that you recoiled into Steve, and his hand tightened on your thigh to pull you closer.

"Dating her? Honey, that's my wife."

Confusion twisted on your face, but the band just snickered at Eddie's whole-hearted declaration.

"They've been dating for, like, three months," Jeff, the bassist, chuckled.

Eddie waved his hands, brushing off the band's dismissal. He perched on the arm of the couch on the other side of Steve, all pale limbs and black attire. He placed one foot on the cushion next to Steve and bent over his knee, speaking to the pair of you like telling a secret.

"Well, when you know, you know. Right, Harrington?"

At this angle, Steve got a better look at the baggie in Eddie's pocket—a familiar white powder coated the plastic. Steve tore his eyes slowly away from the baggie and met Eddie's gaze, making sure the shaggy-haired man knew what Steve had been looking at.

Eddie swallowed, smile slipping, but Steve's eyes were steadily narrowed with suspicious warning.

"Right," Steve agreed.

They continued to stare at each other—Steve unnervingly calm and Eddie a little squirmy—while you murmured amongst the band members about Stella and Eddie, and how bloody Steve's fights usually got. They were surprisingly curious about how violent boxing could get.

But Steve put an end to the conversation with a gentle tap to your thigh, pushing off the back of the couch to sit up and guide you with him.

"C'mon, baby, you wanna go eat?"

The question seemed rhetorical, the both of you already on your feet and your hand grasped tightly in Steve's before you could even excuse yourself from the band conversation. You waved goodbye to them, pairing it with a cute, rosy-cheeked smile that made them swoon.

"See you guys tonight, right?" Eddie asked, following the pair of you toward the door. "And we should get together again sometime, Harrington. It's been a while."

A big, ringed hand clasped down on Steve's shoulder, and the boxer stopped short in the doorway to turn to his friend. You stopped with him, leaning into his side. For a moment, you were certain they'd have another vague and ominous staring match. But then Steve leaned forward, jerked his chin toward Eddie's legs, and blinked blankly at Eddie.

"You watchin' that?"

Eddie blinked back, his scoff a secondary, delayed reaction yanked from him by disbelief. He glanced at you for a moment, uncertain how much he wanted to say in front of you, and placed his hand on the door.

"I got it covered, Harrington, but thanks."

His tone was sharp but not cruel, and it took you a moment to even pick up on the underlying stiffness between the two men. Clearly, there was something wrong, but you just couldn't figure out what. Did Eddie have an accident, were his legs okay? The dimpled grin he flashed Steve seemed irritated.

Steve clapped Eddie on the arm: a friendly, smidge-too-hard pat. "Alright, man. Catch you guys tonight, gotta go get some earplugs."

The irritation was slow to melt from Eddie's smile, but he chuckled all the same. You cleared your throat, raising your hand in a tiny wave toward Eddie.

"Bye, Eddie, it was nice to meet you."

Eddie bent at the waist again in another bow, and you couldn't help but giggle dazedly. "And you. See you tonight, sweetheart."

♡ ♡

At dinner, Steve smoked another cigarette on the patio of a Mexican restaurant, sunglasses shielding him from the evening sun. He hadn't said much since you left Troubadour, and you could only sip your lemonade for so long in silence before you huffed.

"Baby, what's wrong? Are you mad we're going to the concert tonight, because we don't have to if you really don't want to."

Steve tapped his cigarette over the pavement, head shaking. "Nah, angel, s' not it."

You frowned, reaching over to grab his hand on the table. His watch knocked on the white cloth, and you traced your finger over the leather band.

"Then what is it?"

Steve took a drag of the cigarette and blew a thin stream of smoke toward the street.

"Nothin', baby. Just a headache."

You nodded, flashing a tight-lipped smile. You dipped into your purse on the chair beside you, fishing out the metal pill container you always carried on hand. You swiped two pain pills for him and placed them beside his Coke. Steve followed your movements, a huff of laughter shooting through his nose. He placed his cigarette in his mouth, refusing to drop your hand, and collected them in his hand.

"Thanks, angel."

You beamed. "Of course, Stevie. Now come on, I wanna go to the hotel and get ready. I can't believe I'm finally seeing Corroded Coffin live."

Steve stamped out his cigarette and plopped the pills in his mouth. He watched you, unable to contain your ecstatic smile, though you tried by pursing your lips and gazing down at your plate. He'd been watching you since you sat down—he watched you gaze around Sunset Strip like you were in another world, wide-eyed and curious.

He said nothing of Eddie's drug habit, or his mother's when he was a child that made him weary around Eddie because of it. Steve said nothing about hearing you sniffle in the bathroom at one a.m because you tried calling your parents and they didn't answer, and you missed them so bad that you seemed off in your own world ever since you got here.

Because right now, you were happy. And that's all that mattered to Steve.

"Let's go, baby."

♡ ♡

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jupitersdoll · 8 months

Text

Possible Career Paths for the Sun Signs🌞

As I explained in my second Astro Observations post, the sign and house your sun is in can tell you where you naturally shine best. Working in a career where you stand out naturally can benefit you in many ways because when work does not feel like work, you have more room to thrive.

Sun in Aries/1H - Management, Military, Self-Employed Entrepreneur, Acting*, Modeling.

Sun in Taurus/2H - Banking, Finance, Singing*, Chef, Real Estate.

Sun in Gemini/3H - Writer, Radio/Podcast, Middle Education Teacher (ages 7-14), Athlete*, Entertainment Critic

Sun in Cancer/4H* - Family trade (Nepotism), Early Education Teacher (ages newborn to 7), Interior Decoration, Family Therapist, Historian

Sun in Leo/5H - Entertainer, Relationship Therapist/Dating Coach, Film Director/Producer, Youth Advocate, Late Education Teacher (ages 14-18)

Sun in Virgo/6H - Healthcare, Social Work, Human Resources, Comedian, Politician

Sun in Libra/7H - Lawyer, Mediator, At-Home work, Visual Artist*, Business Owner

Sun in Scorpio/8H* - Insurance Agent, Funeral Services, Sex Therapist, Addiction Counselor, Acting*

Sun in Sagittarius/9H - Theology, Post-Grade School Education (ages 18 and over), Travel Agent, Life Coach, Blogger

Sun in Capricorn/10H* - Business Leadership (ex: C-Suite), Family Trade (self-starting), Board Member, Politics, Entertainment Executive

Sun in Aquarius/11H* - Socialite/Influencer, Entertainer, Entrepreneur (with others), Humanitarian, Project Manager

Sun in Pisces/12H* - Psychologist, Executor, Jail/Prison Employee, Artist*, Occult Worker

Notes:

Actors, Singers, and Artists are usually found in all houses, but the work they go towards depends on the house they’re in. For example, Actors in Leo/5H tend to go for lighthearted roles like Will Smith, while Actors in Scorpio/8H tend to have darker-themed roles like Nicole Kidman.

Sun in Aquarius/11H can usually succeed in whatever career they venture into if they have passion for it because the 11H rules over hopes and dreams. It’s why most celebrities have 11H Sun.

Sun in Cancer/4H, Scorpio/8H, and Pisces/12H tend to have more mysterious or behind-the-scenes careers because the Sun prefers the attention to be on their work rather than on the person themselves.

Sun in Gemini/3H is good with athletics because the 3H is a social house along with 7H and 11H. Also, most professional athletes or athletic employees learn multiple languages to tend to their teams, which are made up of people from different cultures.

Sun in Capricorn/10H careers usually take time which is why the careers I listed are mostly leadership positions. These natives are ambitious so not being in charge is not a good direction for their sun energy.

Follow for more Astrology and Intuitive Content, readings are available! 💛

Tagged: @222-justfornow-333 @nummer626 @bcjkxs @starry-sky01 @mercurydombaby

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