#and my manager is texting me about getting extra hours at the other store and like

[livvyofthelake]

in my watching movies class not remotely paying attention to this movie. sorry bro i’ve got stuff on my phone and this is like. a bummer of a movie tbh

[hhoneyhams]

Full Count - Modern Laios/F!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Features: lots of inappropriate uses of company time (ahem), closet sex, destruction of store property, technical difficulties, and pizza 'n soda for morale! It also gets a little sappy at one point, yippee!

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!! ESRB RATED M FOR MATURE (Technically A/O but who uses that anymore?? )

Content Warning: Unprotected sex, public sex, and cream pies

The reader has female genitalia and is human. I tried to keep all other descriptions/pronouns to a minimum.

Author's Note: Shout out to @toxycodone for making the post that inspired this whole thing! Minimum wage worker Laios is a darling idea, but thinking about him working in a video game and collectible store just stole my HEART! I'd let him tell me all about his D&D campaign and his most recent Skyrim run any day 🖤

“--have a good night!” you call out to a departing customer. As the door shuts behind them, you turn off the neon ‘open’ sign and begin your closing duties. 

Instead of wiping down the windows and letting the shutters down, you were handed pencils and two printed-off sheets of paper attached to clipboards.

“You and Laios go do the pre-owned and new console count, I’ll see what I can do about the internet before the night is over,” your boss sighs, pulling out their phone to make some calls. Your eyes meet Laios’ as he pauses what he is doing on the sales floor to make his way to the area behind the registers.

“The internet went down?”

“I think that storm knocked it out earlier…” you theorize, handing him the other pencil and clipboard. “We were having trouble over here with the POS and cards.”

“Oh, it's down-down then,” the blond confirms. You grab your second soda can of the night and your keys to the back room. He follows suit after he takes another piece of pizza, cold and tough from airing out on the counter. “That’s lame.” 

Taking care of a count by hand is nothing for you, but using your extra hours to redo a count isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night. The day of full-count inventory for your store was quickly looming, the internet going out another hurdle in the way of your freedom.

The two of you lock yourselves into the back. You open the side closet that holds both sets of consoles to count. The closet wasn’t cramped, but you were a bit cozy in there. Various gaming consoles lined the walls and were stacked along the floors.

You and Laios were rarely scheduled together, but you always enjoyed yourselves when you were. You met him at a staff meeting shortly after he started at the store. The whole night you had ended up talking about everything from dungeon-crawler games to Dungeons and Dragons, to even discussing the potential of getting some friends together to do a joint playthrough of one of his favorite games in the Monster Hunter series.

It isn’t a secret that you find him attractive. Your other co-workers poke fun at how you clam up around him. You’re just content with listening to him ramble, unlike some of the others. 

Usually, people don’t last at this job long enough for you to get attached, but you know you’d be a little sad to see him go. 

Your phone vibrates in your pocket with a text from your manager. Laios’ phone has been forgotten somewhere out front so he glances over your shoulder to read the text:

‘Going home. Finish the count and lock up when you’re done. Someone should be bringing us a router from another store tomorrow.’

Leave it to a manager to have you clean up their mess…

“Shit, why do we still have to do this then? I mean, if we’re just going to be back up and running tomorrow morning, why stay late and see if everything is there?” you vent to Laios, setting the clipboard down on the ground and flopping straight onto your ass. “They can’t even see if we’re actually doing this, so why not fudge these numbers and go home early…”

“Well, think of it this way,” he begins, sitting down beside you and settling his clipboard neatly in his lap. “They can’t see that we’re sitting down and taking care of it!” He begins to scan along the consoles sitting on the floor, marking off each console he finds by the serial number.

He was so content with the mundane that it hurt. He was a real ‘yes, ma’am’ ‘no, sir’ kind of worker, always coming to work with a smile on his face.

You felt like a bad influence every time you worked with him…

Your other coworker, Kabru, always makes it known just how much he wants to choke Laios during their shifts together. Something was very endearing to you about how dedicated he could be to a part-time position like this.

You joined him…and continued your work on the floor.

“--so our DM, right? This guy-”

“Our district manager or your dungeon master?”

“Oh, dungeon master, got mad at me for rolling SUPER high on a perception check and went after my sister’s character for it. So our next session is going to be us trying to get her back from a dragon. We’ve got to take some time off because we lost a couple of people but I’m ready to throw down next time!” he says, determination in his voice. You give him a smile in response, your mind pretty occupied by the task at hand. 

He continues to prattle on excitedly about some of the other escapades his party took place in as you counted the rest of everything that you could whilst sitting on the floor. You were always scared of whatever googly-eyed look you’d give him as you listened intently, so you would usually throw yourself into your work as he talked.

He was kind of like a big, hunky podcast or something…

“Alright, we’ve gotta get up now…” you huff, slowly getting up by grabbing onto one of the wire shelves for support. The hard linoleum floor was not doing you any favors in the comfort department and cut off the circulation to your legs.

You stumble forward and fall on top of Laios, jerking down the shelf you held onto for support, and flinging some of the handhelds onto the floor with you. His strong hands catch you around your middle so you don’t bang your heads against each other. 

A shot of heat rushes through you, embarrassment flushing your face and the telltale signs of butterflies blooming in your belly.

Were you really that touch-starved?

“There goes the Switches, 3 if you need to write it down,” he points out, not making any moves to let go of you as he does so. You settle down in his hands and look over your shoulder to see if he is actually right. 

You’ll have to test those to make sure they still work before you go home…

Laios continued to hold you, almost memorizing the way your body felt under his hands despite the space between the two of you that remained. 

Per your training modules, you knew that physical advances between coworkers were strictly prohibited on the store’s premises. This was clearly an accident, but if the prolonged touching between the two of you said anything, it's that it wasn’t exactly unwanted. 

Laios looks up to the ceiling, the light on the console room’s camera no longer pulsing red like it usually does.

“If the internet is out, the cameras are as well. You can’t get in trouble…”

Your eyes bore into his as you gaped in astonishment.

What is he implying…? 

There are a few beats of silence between the two of you before you close the gap, pressing a heated kiss to his lips and tangling your fingers into his soft shirt. He melted into the kiss, gripping your hips tightly to hold you against him. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like the pizza and soda from before.

“I’ve been wanting to shut you up all night,” you mumble, a smile stretching against your lips as you press more kisses against his.

“I thought you liked listening to me!” His tone is genuinely shocked as he says it, taking on a nervous edge like he has done something wrong. You hush him, rolling your eyes.

“I do, but holy shit, you’re so distracting!”

“You’re distracting too!” he fusses, pressing an accusatory finger to your nose playfully. “I’m always trying to get your attention and you never look at me!”

“I’m trying not to give you ‘fuck me’ eyes while you talk about Skyrim!” you confess, swatting his hand away. Telling him causes your cheeks to burn hotter than they have before. 

Suddenly, you feel something (or someone, rather) graze the underside of your rear. Laios’ cock strains against his pants as he looks away from you, his face turning a rather deep red to match the shirt he was wearing. He blushes all the way from the tips of his ears and down his neck.

“You…you want to fuck me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

It totally wasn’t. Laios didn’t think you liked him that much at all. He would see the way your eyes lit up at certain conversation topics and he did his best to keep your interest, but you always found something to distract yourself with. He’d even resorted to yelling across the store at you as you darted around to straighten up the shelves or stock. You didn’t tell him to shut up like Kabru or Toshiro, but you didn’t engage with him a ton.

He has caught your gaze on a couple of rare occasions, but you would quickly dart your eyes away when you found out that he had noticed. If you were worried about making him uncomfortable, he would have rather known that he wasn’t making you feel that way.

He wanted to make it all up to you. You now know so much about him, but he wanted to take the time to get to know everything about you. He’s heard you talk about your favorite game once or twice, but he wants to know exactly when you played it and why it is your favorite. He wants to know silly stuff, like your favorite Pokémon. He wants to know why you listen to him and why you don’t talk over him or cut him off. He wants to know how long you’ve liked him…

He wants to know why you’re so afraid to look at him…when it's all he ever really wanted. 

His thoughts run wild in his head about everything he wants to know about you, but they go silent the second you go in for another kiss.

Well…He knows you want to fuck him!

Your hands are cold from the store’s A/C, Laios ends up jumping slightly as you drag your hands underneath his shirt and along his back and sides. He lifts his arms up for you to pull the shirt off of him and wraps them back around your body in turn.

It was pretty damn cold in there, though.

In a heat-of-the-moment, split decision, he decides to reposition you so he can pull himself free of his pants. His overactive fingers struggle with the buckle of his belt as he begins to curse. You take over for him as he laughs at himself.

“Sorry, I’m a bit nervous… it's exciting, really! But, holy shit, I’m not used to all of this,” 

You don’t blame him, it's riskier than anything you’ve ever done in your life. You’re working part-time in a game store, your life isn’t remotely exciting enough to have had sex in public, much less at work and ON THE CLOCK.

From his perspective, he just found out that you liked him 5 minutes ago and now you’re pulling his dick out to suck him silly in your store’s console closet. Make it make sense!

Laios lets out a few quiet moans as you run your tongue along his cock, looking him straight in the eye. It’s everything he could have ever asked for, but he’s jumpy and keeping one eye on you and one on the door. You pull away and use the remaining spit to jerk him lazily with one of your hands. His head thrashes to the side and he lets out a low cry. 

“You know we’re still the only ones here…you don’t have to be quiet, Laios,” you simper. He breathes heavily and grabs your shoulder to stop your ministrations.

“We’ve got to be quick, I can’t wait much longer,” he rasps out. His hands begin to pull at your shirt. “I want to see you, please…”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice!

Laios’ eyes and hands are glued to your tits as you ride him, his fingers pinching your nipples as he notes the size and the way they bounce with you. Your body was something else to him, it was so familiar and foreign at the same time. He’d notice your shape, your clothes, and the way they complemented your figure and movement as you worked.

…yeah, you were distracting.

To have that same body held within his hands, wrapping snugly around his cock, crashing onto him and around him…He wonders how he could have gotten so lucky. 

“I’m…I’m standing up, I-I’ve got you,” he grits out, every movement against you bringing him closer and closer to the precipice. You wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, your fingernails digging into the muscles of his back as he hoists you up. You reach between your bodies to help guide him back in. 

He’s hitting at a new angle, pistoning in and out of you without abandon. Your curses and moans are buried into his shoulder as he keens out. His grunts and his sighs go straight into your ear, his encouragement not lost.

“F-fuck, I want you to look at me,” he says breathlessly. You tear your head from his shoulder and do as he requests. His face is red, sweat dripping from his brow, his iris blown black as his eyes dilate, and his jaw is slack as moans tumble from his mouth. His eyes aren’t staying open as he slams into you, his thrusts losing their rhythmic staccato. “Y-you’re amazing, and this is–”

“Laios, I’m s-so close,” you interrupt him, grabbing him and pulling him forward for a kiss. Your moans are rumbling in your throat as he picks up his pace again. You pull away long enough to breathe but find yourself back on his lips once more. 

You grab and hold one of the wire shelves for support, the position being a bit taxing to maintain for the both of you. He goes to warn you not to do it again but your grip and his movement cause the shelf to fall from the wall just like it did last time. You both yell and your body clenches around his, causing him to double over and almost drop you. 

There goes a whole PS4…

“Fuuck, shit, I don’t care, I don’t care, j-just keep going!” you shout, clawing along his back. Everything around you was becoming too much to bear. The sound and feel of your wetness, skin slapping against skin, the sweaty heat cooled by the A/C. You closed your eyes tightly, you focused on the orgasm rising in your belly, you let yourself get closer, and closer, and–

“I’m gonna cum inside you!” Laios announces with a line of drool running from the seam of his lips. He continued splitting you open with his cock, his form was sloppy but he held you so close to him.

Your orgasm ripped through you, causing you to clench against him tightly. Laios fucked you through your release and came shortly after, pressing you down onto himself as he shuddered and groaned. You weren’t sure how the two of you were able to stay upright after that.

Your legs on his back slide down and you hold onto him for support as he slides back out. His pants were still around his ankles, so it was a quick getaway for him to come back with some of the scratchiest brown paper towels your bathroom had to offer.

“T-thanks,” you say, trading his shirt you fished off of the floor for the paper towels. He hums, still pretty dazed. He sits right back in the floor against the wall as you change, watching you almost enraptured as you pull enough clothes on to toddle to the bathroom and finish cleaning up. “That was…something.”

It was something good though.

The rest of the night was spent testing those consoles that fell, just to make sure they weren’t broken. Luckily enough, everything was in working condition, even if the wire shelves remained discarded to the side of the room.

The two of you agreed to just say you clocked out earlier since it was pushing on midnight. You shared the rest of the pizza in the parking lot and drove your separate ways home. After you got inside your apartment, you received a text from Laios:

‘I don’t think we ever finished those counts…’

End Notes: Some of the work stuff is so specific...Don't ask lol

I'm still working on getting more confident with writing smut and oneshots. I've been writing fanfiction for years but it was all super involved multichapters that never went anywhere! Either way, I really hope you enjoyed reading this because I sure as shit enjoyed writing it!! 😎

Minor edits will be made if I find any mistakes and constructive criticism is always appreciated! (Just don’t be an ass about it 👀)

Credits: Dividers by @/cafekitsune, cover art from 'Daydream Hour' scans

🖤 Rules | Ask Box | Masterlist 🖤

[ghost-proofbaby]

MORDOR (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)

summary: you take a chance, and decide to call mordor.

warnings: fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), mentions of life struggles (reader's turn to go through it), references to previous addition in this series so might be a little harder than normal to read as stand alone! this is really just me projecting on my need for eddie munson to comfort me

wc: 4.8k+

the full menu

You’re late. So, so fucking late. 

It panics Eddie. He sat in his car for that extra hour just waiting for your ridiculously bright yellow Jeep to pull in beside him, and when you still hadn’t by the time Nicole arrived, his chest twisted. When Nicole gets out of her car, and you’re still not there, his stomach churns.

Where are you? Are you okay? 

You hadn’t texted Nicole. You don’t call the store as the two of them flit about and try to manage opening without you. And when the time arrives to unlock the doors for the customers, Nicole finally excused herself to try and call you herself. 

Eddie scorns himself for not having your number. How stupid is it that you two have made a pact to be friends, and yet here he is weeks later, still not having your number.

“Any luck?” he asks, trying to level his tone when Nicole returns and he’s turning on the ovens.

“Nope,” her brows furrowed as she quickly scoots behind him, heading towards the front register, “It went straight to voicemail. Which, I mean… she’s never been late. Not like this.” 

“Should we be worried?” 

It’s a stupid question. He’s already worried. He’s frazzled enough to say fuck it, toss down his apron, and send out a search party for you rather than worrying about the store.

“Maybe,” Nicole shrugs, as if this doesn’t concern her as much as it does Eddie. As if there’s not sirens going off in her head as well. As if your sudden lack of punctuality is something to just shrug off.

As if your absence doesn’t rattle her the way it rattles Eddie. 

An hour passes by. Eddie gets more restless. Constantly looking to the store’s front door, incessantly checking outside the drive thru window for any sign of you or that damn Jeep. Every time the phone rings, Eddie has to curl his hands into fists to let Nicole answer rather than him. Each time, when he looks at her, the subtle shake of her head tells him it’s not you. His tongue nearly bleeds from how he chews on it with his molars to stop from asking her if she had tried to reach you again. He knows she has, notices how she spends extra time in the back, no doubt sending texts and useless calls alike your way.

If it were any other coworker, both Eddie and Nicole would be fuming. Concern would be replaced with irritation

He’s actually reaching to untie his apron and informing her that he’ll start trying to reach you instead when you finally come bursting into the store, a full two hours late to your shift. 

“Fuck,” you whisper-exclaim as you power walk through the lobby, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

“You’re here!” he doesn’t bother keeping down his volume at the sight of you, flooded with immediate relief.

You’re okay. 

“I’m so sorry,” the apologies immediately begin to pour from your lips as you nearly trip rounding the corner into the back room, Eddie hot on your trail, “I’m so, so sorry! Shit, I- I just slept through my alarm, and had a late night, and-“ 

You’re digging your apron out of your bag when he finally reaches out to softly grab your arm, squeezing gently in an offer of comfort as you finally pause. 

“It’s fine,” he promises, “Everyone is late every once and a while.” 

Nicole was in the bathroom, but he’s sure that she’d say the same thing. The entire morning, both her and Eddie had been more worried than anything. Not mad, not irritated, but worried. 

And yet, you’re still on the verge of tears as you look up at Eddie, “It’s not fine. You had to open the store all on your own, and I know that’s stressful, and I saw all the missed calls but my phone was on silent. I mean, my shift’s already half over at this point. And I just-“ 

You cut off your rambling with a shaky breath. It breaks his heart to see you so upset, so guilt-ridden over something that happens to the best of you all. 

“It’s okay,” he stresses once more, another squeeze on your arm, “You had a late night? Is everything okay?” 

You open your mouth to answer him, the no already forming on your lips, when Nicole returns from the bathroom.

“Oh my gosh, there you are!” she exclaims.

And just like that, Eddie’s chance to be there for you as you were for him has vanished into thin air.

—

Your shift may have lasted several hours less than it was meant to, but you’re convinced it’s the absolute worst hours of your life. Which is saying a lot given how your life has gone to shit the last two days. 

You were already falling behind on classes, and your bank account was in the negative due to tuition payments. Your mother was calling every day to spend hours on the phone under the guise of catching you up at what you were missing at home, when in all reality it was just her complaining without taking a breath or allowing you to say a single word. You had to take your cat to the emergency vet when he wasn’t eating, only to find out he probably just didn’t like his current food anymore after a series of very expensive tests. Thing after thing, punch after punch, was being thrown your way. It was all just a bit much. 

And then you were late to work. Slept in after forgetting to set an alarm after a late night of staying up and listening to a friend rant over the phone. Burnt your hand not once but twice on the ovens. Spilt an entire cup of hot coffee on yourself. 

Life was out to get you. 

And the only good thing about today was Eddie. 

When the clock finally signals for the two of you to step off the floor, you’re sighing out in relief. You have no idea what the next issue will be waiting for you off the clock, but you’ve accepted that the day couldn’t get worse. And yet, as you go to grab your bag, wrapping your apron by muscle memory as you watch him, your stomach churns at the thought of today’s time being cut so short today. You just like being around him. You like making inside jokes, sharing quick glances, making one another laugh until your stomachs ache over stupid things in the midst of chaos. He’s a guiding light, something to look forward to, a wonderful break from reality that you just… you just cherish.

As you’re tearing up suddenly at the realization along with the heavy weight of your week, you recall that conversation last week. The word you two had assigned for when you needed a break.

Technically, it was probably a joke. Or to be used to ditch work. He probably hadn’t meant it.

But you have to try.

“Hey, uh, Eddie?” you ask nervously, fiddling with the straps of your bag as he’s patting his pockets for all his items.

“Yeah?” he doesn’t look up yet, doesn’t see the forlorn look across your face.

Just say it. If he doesn’t get it – no harm, no foul. If he gets it, and rejects the motion – oh well. The worst he can say is no. 

You have to swallow hard, take a sharp breath, before you can get the single word out. “Mordor.” 

He freezes mid-pat, hands hovering over his front pockets as he slowly looks up. 

“What did you say?”

“Mordor,” you repeat yourself, with a little more confidence to your tone this time. The worst he can say is no. 

For a second, you become convinced he’s forgotten all about that conversation in the parking lot. You really don’t blame him; half the time, you guys discuss anything and everything with minimal importance. Those early and surreal mornings are always more about spending time with one another, with a friend, than it is about actually processing the things said.

But then, two things happen. Firstly, the wrinkles between his brows smooth out. A second passes. And then – they return. 

Sloping ridges and mountains in that small space, each and every bit of them etched with worry. For you. The corners of his mouth deeply downturn and all the white noise of the front of house fades away the longer he looks at you with such care. 

“Mordor?” he echoes, “Like, as in… as in our code word?” 

You feel as if the moment you speak up, all that strength you had mustered throughout the shift will shatter. You’re tired and you’re beaten, you’re desperate and you’re hoping. You don’t even care if he tells you he doesn’t have time to properly sit and unwind with you right now – you’d settle for just a hug. The same arms that bump against yours and that sometimes stretch along your space to grab things from around you, the same arms you’ve seen strain as he insists on carrying heavy kegs for you, the same arms you just want to wrap around you, if even for a second, and squeeze. 

Who knows? Maybe, if he squeezes tight enough, he can put all the broken shards of the week back into place. It’s not his job to fix it, but you’re convinced for a moment, he’s the key to everything just feeling okay for nothing more than a mere second. 

You nod. If you answer him with words, you’re going to cry. The tears are already eagerly burning your corneas. 

He says your name softly, gentle enough that you have to pinch your eyes shut and take a shaky breath to avoid any spillage of your emotions. 

“Are you okay?” 

“No,” you try to make it a laugh, as if this is a joke, “I, uh- not really?” 

“Is it because you were late today?”

Your voice cracks and your eyes squeeze shut tighter for a second as you answer with a weak, “Kind of.” 

You let your eyes snap open again, try and seek out some everpresent warmth in his honey brown ones as your vision blurs a bit with shameful tears. 

You’ve never realized just how many shades resided in those irises, all warm and cool browns alike swirling. They almost match the espresso, you come to realize. And it’s funny, to think about the way all your other coworkers whisper just as scary and grumpy he is the moment he’s out of earshot. It’s funny how customers seem to crumple timidly beneath his disassociating gaze when he finds himself lost in thought on bar or warming. Every single other person who has stepped foot in this store seems to have one impression of Eddie, and it’s not even a proper shadow of the man before you. 

All soft edges. All care and all warmth. He’s not scary, he’s not grumpy; he’s careful and considerate, a little shy at times, a little hesitant at others. And you can only imagine why he’s that way, when you can see someone entirely different reflected in those goddamn honeyed eyes in this moment. 

He takes a step forward. Opens his mouth to speak. Goes as far to even begin to reach out a hand. And then he’s interrupted. 

“Thank you for your patience,” Nicole chirps into her headset as she comes into the back room, turning a corner with determination and snatching a sleeve of cups off the shelves as she continues to speak over the drive thru channel with ease, “Can we get you started with anything to eat today?” 

His mouth closes and his hand drops as you both glance down at the floor, completely silent as you wait for her to finally retreat back out onto the floor without a second glance at the two of you. 

The tears still burn and blur your vision. 

“Okay,” Eddie says the moment the two of you are alone in the back once more, “Okay. Mordor it is. Come with me, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. It rolls off his tongue and it wraps around you before he reaches out and grabs at your hand, only connecting palms and avoiding intertwining fingers before he’s tugging you out the back door. 

Not even through the front. As if he wants to save you the embarrassment of a walk of shame with teary eyes and defeated shoulders.

“We can’t-” you start to protest, but he’s already wrangled the key that is left in the back door – impressively quickly, as even you struggle with that fickle lock at times – before he shoves the door open wordlessly and yanks you out with him wordlessly. 

The door doesn’t even slam shut. It feels like a dramatic moment where it should, but it only closes back with a whisper and soft whoosh of air. 

“They have to do a trash run anyways,” he reassures you when you look back at the unlocked door with worry, referring to the overflowing trash that would soon be taken out to the dumpster in the distance, “It’s fine.” 

The soil crunches beneath both of your sneakers as he makes a beeline to his van. No questions are asked, just as you two had joked about. 

The sun is still favoring the Eastern sky despite growing warmer in the late morning. Eddie’s van is stuffy when he initially unlocks it for both of you to jump into the front, him being sure to open the passenger door for you and only shutting it closed once you’ve securely settled into that seat you’ve spent countless early hours in. 

He starts up the vehicle once he’s in his driver’s seat, but makes no move to drive off as he stares at you. 

“What?” you whisper, voice still strained as you toss your bag down by your feet. 

All he says in return, still gentle and still warm, still glowing brighter than the man everyone seems to think he is, is a reminder of, “Seatbelt.” 

You obey that half-spoken command. You don’t ask where you two are going once he shifts into drive the moment the click sounds in the small space.

—

Eddie drives for a while. He gets onto the freeway in the opposite direction of your way home, and you probably should be worried, but you aren’t. You have no mental capacity for consideration of how you’ll get back to your car, whether your coworkers will worry about it remaining in the parking lot, or whether Eddie even knows where he’s going. Hell, even his slightly erratic driving doesn’t affect you. 

You just stare at the trees as they pass by in a blur. Your mind numbs, smells of a rainstorm in the distance slips into the cabin of the vehicle through the cracks in the back windows, and you just let go. 

If your mother knew what you had done today, you would have absolutely been reamed a new one. 

Eddie slows at an unfamiliar exit, just after the two of you pass a small green sign that reads NOW ENTERING HAWKINS CITY LIMITS. 

“Hawkins?” you murmur your first noise of the entire drive. 

“You ever been?” Eddie asks as if you hadn’t been catatonic the entire way here. 

You prop an elbow up on the door, fist digging into the side of your face as you lean and take in the scenery now passing by a bit slower, “Can’t say I have.” 

“Well, then,” he keeps talking, and it’s sort of comforting after the long silence, “Consider yourself lucky.” 

That gets a snort out of you. One that has his head turning quickly to look at you as he slows at the first redlight after the freeway, a grin twitching on his lips softly as he takes in the sight of you. 

He must think you can’t see him staring, because he continues to do it, until the light has changed green and he’s made no move to press on his gas.

“It’s green.”

“Huh?”

You look over at him, his rosy cheeks and diverted eyes at being caught, and repeat yourself with more emphasis, “The light’s green, idiot.” 

“Oh, shit!” 

Another snort, another rapid (albeit shorter) glance on his part. 

He’s got a nice smile. Even if he might totally be a secret serial killer who was just jumping at the opportunity to murk his unsuspecting and vulnerable coworker in the middle of the woods. He could get away with it with a smile like that. 

It’s only once he’s turned onto a dirt road that leads out into the woods that you really care to finally ask one of the first questions you probably should have asked the moment you got in his van – “Uh, Eddie? Where… Where are you taking me?” 

“Trust me,” he insists, both hands gripping his wheel with care as he navigates the car into thicker foliage, “I promise I’m not going to, like, murder you.” 

“Sounds like something someone who is going to murder me would say,” you put in a little extra effort, offering him the joke and more than a snort this time. 

You don’t miss the swell of pride that lifts him to sit up just a tad bit straighter in his seat. As if your joking, as if your laughing, was something he was proud to elicit from you. 

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out, then.” 

He drives pretty deeply into the woods, until the road turns rougher and the treeline is thick enough you can’t catch clearsight of the main road anymore. You really should be worried, but all you do instead of mustering up any anxiety is roll down the window. It makes him glance at you, but you don’t pay that look any mind. 

The smell of rain is even stronger, heavy as it mingles with the scent of pine and dirt. It somehow dances between something familiar and something new, a distant memory that unlocks and soothes some of that tightness that had been residing in your chest for a week now. It doesn’t smother, but it does gather up in your nose, tickling in the slightest. You swear, if you were to focus hard enough, you’d pick up on the comforting smell of a burning campfire somewhere. It just seemed like the kind of appropriate scent to add to the essence of it all. The strings of light that break through leaves in golden hues, the cloud spitting out of his back tires as he clearly goes just above the recommended speed for this old road, the pleasant chirp of a bird that whistles right past – the essence of pure comfort to someone like you. 

It kind of makes you wish you lived in Hawkins, just as you assumed Eddie did. 

He finally slows the van into a clearing, never once scolding you for rolling the window down. He leaves you as you twist your body in what must be an uncomfortable fashion to rest your chin on the top of the door, cheeks and nose just barely peeking out of the car. Every slap of the breeze on your face feels as though you’re releasing another bit of worry to the wind, your chest continuing to grow lighter and lighter. 

“Alright, Sunshine,” he clears his throat, throwing the van into park. The clearing is very obviously a small campsite – you can make out a fire pit just a few paces away and the perfect space cleared of rocks, “You call the shots. What are we gonna do?”

“What?”

Eddie leans over the center console, getting closer to you as thunder rolls in the distance, “What do you want to do? You called Mordor, so whatever is going to help you, we’ll do.”

You want to tell him that just doing as he has, not saying no and not asking questions as he drove the two of you out into the middle of nowhere, helped. The fact that he hadn’t hesitated when he’d processed that you’d said Mordor was already doing wonders for the storm that had brewed within your chest. You’d managed to snag extra time with the boy who had a way about making everything alright, and that in itself was able to erase some of your week from Hell.

But he’s looking at you, awaiting a real answer, so you say the first thing you can think of, “Do you have your copy of The Hobbit on you, by chance?” 

“Oh, say less, sweetheart,” Quickly, Eddie fumbles with his seatbelt and unbuckles himself, swinging open his door and clambering out onto the soft ground waiting below. He waits for a moment, hands on his hips as he looks at you expectantly, “Well? C’mon. I promise you the back seat is far more comfortable.” 

“Does that line usually work for you?” 

“I don’t mean it like that.” 

“Every fuckboy means it like that, Eds.” 

You don’t know it, but his heart swells a little bit at the nickname. 

“Good thing I’m not a fuck boy then,” he leans back into the van a little, smiling wildly, “Now come and join me in the back of my van in a totally platonic, definitely not suggestive way, Sunshine.” 

He doesn’t have to ask twice; you’re climbing out to follow him to the back of the van, not even flinching as you both slam your doors shut in sync and you giggle the entire way. It’s just his effect. Everything is lighter with him around, and you’re starting to believe he should be the one called Sunshine instead of you. 

“M’lady,” he bows dramatically, swinging open the heavy doors for you. 

The climb in is a bit awkward, but you don’t even think about it as you take in the nest of an arrangement Eddie has set up in the back of his van. There’s an old comforter spread out across the entire floor of it, with several smaller blankets bunched at random with a few pillows. 

“Are you sure you’re not a fuckboy?” you question as you’re careful to not touch the blankets with the sole of your shoes, twisting and beginning to unlace the sneakers that had seen better days. There’s stains of various sauces and syrups from work, and surely milk layering the bottom of them. You’re positive if you investigated close enough, you’d even find coffee grounds lodged between the ridges of the textured sole. 

“Positive,” Eddie follows you in, reaching and shutting the doors carefully behind him. He’s less meticulous about his own boots, hardly undoing the knots and kicking them off into the same corner you’d placed your shoes, “I solemnly swear you are the first to see these freshly cleaned blankets.” 

“What about before you cleaned them?” 

“Sweetheart,” he throws himself down on one of the worn pillows, laying right beside where you have your knees drawn up to your knees. He’s flat on his back, hair flaring out in a halo around his head as he looks up at you with big, brown eyes, “You’re killing me here.” 

You can’t help it. The two of you are probably not nearly close enough for what you impulsively do, but you’ve had a hard week, and his hair looks damn soft. 

Your fingers are reaching out to trace over some of the wild and thrown out strands of curls before you can overthink it. Curling caramel and honey softness, you try to not let your breath catch as your pull up on the strand and let it run between your knuckles rather than just fingertips. 

“Yeah?” you smile gently, watching him melt as you twirl the end of the curl you’d been playing with around the length of your finger, “Any specific requests for your funeral?” 

He plays along, trying to not get too lost up in the barely-there feeling of you playing with his hair, “Your attendance, obviously. And probably some good music. Preferably Metallica – again, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously.” 

“Actually, d’you think you can get Kirk Hammett himself to attend? That’d be the best outcome. My only request, actually.”

“You’d rather Kirk Hammett attend your funeral than me?”

“I’ve got priorities here, Sunshine.” 

Your fingers have traveled up to his scalp now, scratching gently as you both are consumed in withheld laughter and brilliantly shy smiles, letting go of heavy weeks and succumbing to all of the sunlight crammed into the back of Eddie’s van. 

“Alright,” your fingers pause their scratches, “I believe you were meant to read me a bedtime story, Munson.” 

“Bedtime story? It’s not even afternoon yet,” Eddie scoffs, throwing a hand up as he digs beneath one of the small, fluffy blankets in the corner. When his hand comes back into view, it clutches that same copy of The Hobbit you’ve seen on the back desk at work on multiple occasions, “Alright, well, make yourself comfortable.” 

Eddie shifts to sit up, your hand falling from his scalp as he piles a few of the pillows from beside him to prop him up as you mentally debate your options. 

You could just lay down beside him. Not touching, just listening. The arrangement was comfortable enough and you have no doubt that it would still be exactly as you needed after all the stress. 

Or you could be daring. You could do more than listen; you could lay your head in his lap, or maybe rest your tired temple against his shoulder. Your could press up against him tightly under the excuse that the space back here was limited and you could selfishly indulge in all that he was willing to offer for this afternoon. More than brushing touches, more than playful glances. 

You could feel the skin of his arm against your own bare shoulder and for a moment, you could just pretend. 

Don’t overthink it. Don’t overthink this. 

You opt for the lap. It’s more comfortable. Less intimate, you convince yourself. 

When your cheek presses into the rough denim stretching over his thigh, you can feel him tense up momentarily. Everything seemingly stops for just a second – even his breathing. But by the time you notice, it’s already resumed. You start to worry you’ve overstepped boundaries, gone too far for two coworkers playing pretend as ‘friends’. 

This definitely isn’t what he meant. First you played with his hair, now you’re laying your head on his lap. You need to learn personal space, personal boundari-

All thoughts evaporate as Eddie suddenly tugs one of the blankets over you, letting it drape comfortably over your shoulder. 

“Shall we begin?” 

Eddie’s voice was made to narrate Tolkien. It becomes apparent between the way he enunciates each word to paint a beautiful fantasy world, his fluctuation changing for each character without missing a beat. His voice takes on a slightly deeper timber than his normal speaking voice as you listen to the storm that had been teasing the entire drive finally break. Hard winds knock against the sides of the van occasionally, the patter of rain echoing off the metal roof of the van. Thunder becomes more frequent, and you couldn’t be sure, but there must be lightning somewhere above the trees to match it. But it doesn’t reach the two of you, the random bursts of light easily mistaken for swaying shadows through the windshield. 

Here in this van, with just you and Eddie and the adventures of Bilbo Baggins, it feels as if nothing bad can touch either of you. Not long weeks, not irate customers, not pessimistic friends or family – nothing. A certain bubble of safety has been created here, and you revel in it. Preen in the certainty of a few hours rest as Eddie’s fingers begin to tangle in your hair and return the favor of playing with your own strands. A simple pattern; he starts at the scalp, runs the fingers all the way through until they trail down the slope of your neck and curve of your shoulder. On occasion, they even slip to caress the top of your spine through the blanket.

Somewhere between the warmth of the soft blanket enveloping you in the scent of clean laundry and the soothing repetitive motions, you find yourself slipping away into sleep. Well-deserved, very much needed sleep that welcomes you with open arms. It’s not quite the hug you had craved from Eddie back at the store, but it’s a hug all the same, and it does hold you close just tight enough to make you believe the afternoon is capable of pressing all your broken pieces back together. If not forever, then just for now. The comfort of it all only has you nuzzling your cheek deeper into the muscle of his thigh.

The lap, it turns out, was the right choice.

Little did you know how grateful Eddie was for your choice of position. Better for your head to rest on his lap than for your ear to be pressed to his chest and hearing the current thunder of his heart that challenges the storm beginning outside the van, beating far harder for you than a friend’s would.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone @alwayslindie @royale1803 @onegirlmanytales @whyamiheresomeonehelp @mrsjellymunson

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[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Seo Changbin x F!Reader TW : reader suffers from migraines ; arguments ; i'm gonna make this one absolutely vicious, i love writing arguments ; angst of course as usual ; Word Count : 2.6k Request : @kurolils : I'll try not to give a lot of details cause it's your story not mine but I was thinking of something angsty (ofc wtf) with changbin (ofc wtf) , like the reader and him got into a really bad argument (you can decide the plot of that) and she has really bad migraines (I'm relating here) so when they're mad at each other, she doesn't want to be pushy pr clingy so she doesn't say anything to him but when the migraine gets like really bad, she calls him :) AN : migraines are so fricking bad and I hope yours don't affect you too badly :'( BUT! It definitely isn't abusive to send in another request, send in all the requests you want!!! I love it! I love your ideas! And Binnie definitely needs more attention in my ask box (and in my masterlist)!

Here comes another one, you thought to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to mentally ward off the sudden throbbing in your head, pinging right behind your eye. Just one more hour until you could get off work and go home, and then you’d see your boyfriend who always managed to make you feel better… Although you weren’t sure if the migraine actually went away or if his presence alone was enough to have you forgetting that it was there in the first place. 

“Is it bothering you again?” Your coworker asked, leaning across the counter that you had been slouched over, trying to block out anything that would only add to the pain in your head. You simply grunted in agreement, not daring to lift your head, worried that the bright fluorescent lights would only trigger the migraine to start full force once again. “It’s dead here today, you can go home if you want. I’m sure the last thing you want to deal with are customers.” 

He was right, the store was always dead at the beginning of the week, and you hated being scheduled those days. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?” You asked, your head still buried in your arms. He hummed softly in agreement, gently patting your shoulder before making his way around to the back of the counter to take your spot. “Thanks… I’ll cover one of your shifts if you ever need me to.” You said as quietly as possible, worried that your own voice meeting your ears would only worsen the throbbing in your head. 

“Don’t worry about that, just text me when you get home so I know you made it there okay.” And you nodded to his words, pulling your sunglasses out of your bag and placing them on before walking out of the store. He was always so nice, he looked out for you, and in a way, he reminded you a lot of your boyfriend, that’s why it was so easy to get so close to him. You’d have to remember to thank him when you got home, but all that was on your mind right now was the pleasant thought of going home, closing all the blinds, and waiting that extra hour for Changbin to get home so you could cuddle up next to him. 

You hadn’t realized that you had fallen asleep on the couch, but you were actually quite happy that you did. By the time Changbin walked through the front door and your eyes slowly opened, it felt like you were in the clear, the banging pain in your head had all but completely subsided. “You’re home early.” Changbin commented, noticing that all the windows had been practically blacked out by the shutters and the shades, he knew what it meant, and he kept his voice as low as possible as he kicked off his shoes and walked over to the couch where you were laying. “Did it get bad again?” 

Slowly nodding your head, you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and stretched, ready to make room for Changbin to scoot in beside you. “Jaemin saw that I was hurting and he said I could go home… Oh… Shit, I have to text him to thank him.” You muttered, pulling your phone out and unlocking it, so focused on sending out the text that you didn’t even hear Changbins sigh of annoyance. “Did you want to order something to eat and watch a movie or something?” You asked after sending out the text, placing your phone down on the coffee table and scooting over. 

“Why don’t you just ask Jaemin to come over and watch the movie with you.” Changbin mumbled, eyeing the spot that you made beside yourself for him to sit in before dropping down into the recliner behind him. “He can even take you out to a fancy dinner or something.” The thumping in your head was slowly returning, accompanied by the pounding of your heart that you could hear in your ears, although you weren’t sure if it was racing because you were upset or because you were angry. 

Changbin had never made such accusations before, and while he hadn’t flat out accused you of such a thing, you could read into his words and his tone and you knew exactly what he meant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just being ridiculous.” You muttered, deciding to stretch out on the couch once more since he was being that way. “Do you want to order dinner or not?” You asked, not even bothering to open your eyes as you asked the question. 

“I don’t know, maybe we should ask Jaemin what he wants just in case he comes over to check on you.” Changbin snidely retorted and your eyes rolled behind your eyelids as you let out a small huff of air through your nose. “Or maybe… maybe I should just go back to the dorms and you and Jaemin can enjoy a nice little dinner in my house watching my TV.” He sounded so cocky and truthfully it was disgusting, and it made your head hurt worse. 

“I’d argue with you, I’d give you that satisfaction if my head wasn’t already pounding… But you knew that when you came in and you continue to bicker. So maybe you should leave, or maybe I should leave. Clearly you’ve got some shit going on, and truthfully, I can’t fucking handle it right now.” You snapped, taking a deep breath and sinking deeper into the cushions of the sofa, waiting to hear the sound of the recliner moving back into place when Changbin got up, but it was silent. Was he just going to sit there and continue the foolish argument until your head felt like it was going to explode? 

The short answer… Yes. Yes he would. “If I leave you’ll just have him come over… And if you leave, you’ll just run to him. Either way you and him are getting exactly what you want, right? Why string me along if he’s so much better? Huh?” You honestly didn’t know where this was coming from, but the more he assumed, the angrier you got. 

“You know what? It’s fucking bullshit that you come in here, pretending to give a shit about me, saying shit like… like people at my work should be more understanding of what I go through… And then when there’s one fucking employee who does notice, who does understand, you jump to these batshit insane conclusions that couldn’t be further from the truth. Nothing will make you happy! My head hurts enough already, and then trying to think of ways to fucking please you only makes it hurt worse. So if you’re going to just keep coming at me, I’d rather you not… Or at least wait until I can take another ibuprofen and my headache clears up enough to handle more of your bullshit.” You snapped, your voice cracking as your throat closed up. You were on the verge of tears, although it wasn’t from being upset, it was from being angry and in pain and you just wanted to sleep it all away. 

“You know what, I’ll just go.” Changbins hands flew up in the air before slapping down against his lap as he pushed himself up to his feet. “Make sure Jaemin takes his shoes off before he walks on my carpet though.” He always had to have that last word, the last jab of the knife. If you had the energy, you would have flipped him off, but you were just exhausted. You didn’t have the energy to fight, you didn’t even want to fight, he had started it. It wasn’t until you heard the front door slam shut that you finally let yourself cry, but even that was tiresome, and you ended up just crying yourself to sleep. 

You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed, but you were happy to see that the sun had finally set, unless it was in the wee hours of the morning and it was just about to rise. That happiness quickly died when you remembered what had happened right before you fell asleep, the sudden lonely feeling and the feeling of emptiness shrouding you like a cloak as you looked around the empty apartment.

At the moment, it didn’t matter though. You knew that he was okay, he was probably at the dorms with the guys having a great time to get his mind off of what he thought was going on. Meanwhile, you still hadn’t eaten and your stomach was now growling at you to feed it. You could get through the rest of the night without him, maybe it was for the best if you both had some distance from each other as much as you hated it. 

You thought you’d be okay, you were okay, you had made it to the kitchen, you had gotten the food out of the fridge, you had managed to even start preparing it, but then, as if from out of the dark, it kicked in again. This time it was worse, or maybe it just felt worse because everything else that was going on. It truly felt like your head had been slammed into a brick wall and your vision became blurry and you felt sick and everything was just awful and you couldn’t help but cry as you dropped down to the kitchen floor, your knees curling against your chest, your hand fumbling for your phone in your pocket as you called the only person you knew could help. 

“Look, I said that I’d leave. You said you wanted space. I don’t want to argue, I think we should just talk about this-” 

“B-Binnie…” You whimpered, sniffling loudly as your body trembled, trying not to throw up, trying so hard to not focus on the pain, but trying not to focus only made it hurt worse. His end was quiet though, aside from the distant murmuring of some of the guys, although you couldn’t make it out, especially considering you were breathing so heavily from crying, the only thing you could really hear was your own whimpers and sobs. “Please come home…” 

The sound of a car door, and then the revving of an engine. “I’m coming, sweetheart, just stay where you’re at. Where are you right now? What were you doing?” It was the Binnie that you knew and loved speaking right now, but it was so different from the Changbin that had sat across from you in the living room just a little while ago. Right now you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, you simply needed him there with you, his voice soft and sweet as he talked you through the pain. 

“Kitchen… I… I was hungry…” You stammered, and then you hiccuped, the sudden jolt seemingly shifting your stomach and causing you to retch. “S-Sorry…” You whispered, and you heard Changbin sigh softly, although you weren’t sure if it sounded that way because he pulled his phone away or if he was just trying to be quiet because he knew what was going on. 

“I’ll be home shortly, and then I’ll order us something to eat. You remember what we talked about the last time this happened and I wasn’t there? You remember what I told you to do?” He was trying his best to keep your mind off of the ache, and it was working in a way, your mind now trying to clear the fog to think about what you’d do if this happened while he was on tour. He’d sit on the phone with you for hours, and if he was in the middle of a show while it happened, he had set up his voicemail just for you so you could listen to his voice to help you a little bit until he could call you back. “Just listen to me talk and…-” 

“And take deep breaths…” You sputtered out, your breaths coming a little bit too quickly right now which wasn’t helping in the nausea department. “Count to ten…” You continued, squeezing your eyes shut as tightly as you could as you tried to visualize the numbers popping up in your head while listening to him talk. He wasn’t really talking about anything in particular, his voice was just something for you to focus on, something to calm you in a way. 

It wasn’t long… or maybe it was… until Changbin came walking through the front door. The entire apartment was pitch black, but he knew that flicking on any lights would only make things worse, so he used his phone screen to shine a light across the floor until he made it to the kitchen where you were still sitting curled up against the cabinets. “Did you take your medicine today?” He asked as he squatted down on the floor next to you, his hand wiping the beads of sweat from your forehead that you didn’t even notice had built up. 

Your medicine, which you often forgot to take, especially when you were in a hurry, had just now crossed your mind now that Changbin had brought it up. “No…” You mumbled sheepishly, and he tsked his tongue, but he wasn’t going to say anything about it right now. Instead, he helped you to your feet, but once you were on them, he gently lifted you up, carrying you to the bedroom and then carefully laying you down. 

“I don’t want you to take it now… You have to take it in the morning…” He whispered, and although the room was dark, you could tell he wasn’t looking at you because you couldn’t see the moon reflected in the whites of his eyes. “I’m sorry… For the way I acted. It was uncalled for, and I got jealous… Stupidly jealous. I just… I don’t like the idea of another guy taking care of you. It kind of pisses me off…” 

“Kind of?” You questioned, and you would have laughed if the situation didn’t feel so serious. “You walked out on me… That hurt, Binnie…” You softly explained as shortly as possible. “I’d like to think that I make it perfectly clear that I love you… Only you… You’re the only person I want to take care of me…” You reached out in the darkness, your hand brushing along his back where you could feel the outline of his muscles that you mapped with your fingertips. 

“You do… You do.” He repeated himself, running his hands over his face, and you felt him shiver slightly from your touch. “I know you love me… I know you feel that way… I just… I want to be the only person that takes care of you, the only person who looks out for you. Sometimes I feel like… Like since I’m gone so much… You’ll find someone else to take care of you like I should.” 

“Bin…” You sighed out his name, pushing yourself up onto your knees and draping your arms over his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck and placing light kisses against his skin. “I don’t want anyone else to take care of me… You’re the only person that can calm me, that can soothe me. You’re the only one that can ever make me feel better. I don’t want anyone but you.” His silence let you know that he was thinking, and you didn’t want him thinking anything bad, so you pulled him to lay down, laying on top of him to trap him-although you knew he could move you if he wanted to-and pulling the blanket up around the both of you. 

“I’ll do better… I’ll be better…” He whispered, his fingers dancing along the small of your back. “I’m sorry I upset you… I’m so sorry, sweetheart…” He apologized again, placing a kiss to the top of your head before settling into his pillow again. “I’m not leaving again, I’ll stay right here with you, forever and ever.” 

Permanent Taglist : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me @mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes

[teapartyprincess4two]

Corner Store - C. Sturniolo

pairing: Employee!reader x Coworker!Chris

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, slow build up & slight cursing

summary: Chris is your annoying coworker who always manages to make your shifts a little more miserable than necessary, but it turns out he has a misunderstood crush on you.

—

“That’ll be $10.32,” you say, scanning the last item and looking towards the customer awaiting their form of payment. Your shift seemed to drag on, you had already been here 6 hours and still had 1 more to go before your shift was over. Not like you would be able to leave right away anyways, you always had to wait until the next person scheduled arrived to relieve you. When you checked to see who was scheduled after you, you noticed that Chris, one of the few other people who worked here, was scheduled today. Chris was always late.

You watched as the customer in front of you dug through her purse, struggling to find the correct amount of change. “I swear I have the 32 cents,” she mumbled, fishing around for the loose coins scattered at the bottom of her bag. Your fingers tapped against the counter impatiently as you watched her. How had you gotten yourself stuck in this dead end job?

“Here,” she says, finally finding the correct amount of change. She hands you a quarter, a nickel, and two pennies. She waited for you to cash her out, not realizing that she had yet to hand you the ten dollars. “Hello?! I need the receipt,” her voice holds an impatient tone as her hands point towards the receipt machine aggressively. You sigh, knowing that this interaction could go south quickly if you didn’t choose your next words wisely.

You wanted to reply with, ‘Hello?! I need the ten dollars,’ but your shift was almost over and there was no reason to pick a fight now. “I still need the ten dollars, ma’am,” you replied, using your customer service voice at its fullest potential. She facepalmed, realizing her mistake before responding, “Oops! You’re right, sweetie.” Her hands returned into her purse, this time pulling her wallet out and handing you a ten dollar bill. Without a word you take it from her and cash her out, making sure to hand her the stupid receipt. “Keep the change,” she jokes. The joke feels like a slap to the face, there was no change. There was never change. You wanted to bang your head against the wall.

“Have a good day,” you say, chuckling a bit at her sarcastic joke and offering her a fake smile. She walks out with all her items in hand, the ring of the doorbell letting you know the coast is clear. Once she’s gone you slump back into your stool, pulling your phone out to check the time. 30 more minutes and you’d be free.

You’re about to turn your phone off when you notice a text from your coworker Chris.

Chris (WORK): hey you think you can cover for me? I’m running late lol. I’ll be there in like 30 minutes :p

You were fulling expecting him to be late, but 30 extra minutes sounded like actual hell. You groan, running your hands through your hair in annoyance before replying.

y/n: really bruh :|

Why was it so hard for him to get to work on time? He didn’t even live far, you had dropped him off a few times on the rare occasion you were scheduled to work the same shift and he didn’t have a ride. He lived like a full 5 minutes away, 10 minutes if he walked. The text bubbles would disappear and reappear, indicating that he was typing up his response.

Chris (WORK): sorry, I’m waiting for my brother to pick me up. he’s my ride

Another groan of annoyance escapes your lips, annoyed at the fact that a grown man was still relying on others for transportation. The haunting sound of the doorbell rings again suddenly and catches your attention. A couple had just walked in hand in hand. “Hello!” You greeted them quickly using your standard go-to customer service voice as you watched them disappear to the back of the store. You hated greeting the customers, they always ignored you.

y/n: you always do this bro. you could literally still get here on time if you started walking right now

The customers in the back of the store were laughing loudly, causing you to once again look away from your phone and in their direction. They were horse-playing, pushing and pulling each other playfully around the store. As cute as it was, you could only think about them possibly tipping something over and making a mess. The last thing you needed right now was a big mess to clean up.

Chris (WORK): that’s not true.

Chris (WORK): and nah I’ll just wait for Matt to take me

You didn’t even bother replying to his last message because no matter what you said he would still be late either way. A loud crash echoes from the back of the store, the couple gasping right after. You sit up from your stool and tiptoe, trying to see what they dropped. ‘Hopefully they didn’t break anything,’ you thought, but you knew they had. Before you could examine the situation, the couple was running out of the store giggling and laughing.

When you walked over to where they previously were you saw it, an entire 6-pack of Coors Light busted on the floor. You wanted to scream, the only thoughts running through your mind being about how much you hated this job. Somehow this all felt like Chris’s fault because his shift started in five minutes and if you weren’t so busy texting him back you might’ve caught the couple in time to warn them to stop.

“Stupid Chris,” you whispered in annoyance as you bent down to pick the beer cans up. The beer dripped down your arm and onto the floor as you rushed it over to the trash can. You really, really hated this job right now.

—

By the time Chris finally arrived it was well over 45 minutes since your shift was meant to end. You were still cleaning up the mess from before, using bleach and the dirty mop from the supply closet to try and remove as much of the sticky residue as possible.

Chris rushed inside, buttoning up his uniform shirt in the process. Once inside he immediately looked around, trying to find you to let you know he was there and you could leave. “Y/n, where you at?” He called through the store, peering easily over the shelves as he tried to find you. But because you were hunched over scrubbing as hard as possible to clean up the liquid mess on the floor, he couldn’t see you.

He walked down the aisles, picking up a bag of chips on the way. He opened the bag, popping a chip in his mouth as he continued to the back of the store. When he found you, he didn’t even comment on what you were doing, instead letting you know that you were free to go, “hey thanks bro, you’re good to go.” You stood up straight with the mop in your right hand and the bleach bottle in the other as you rolled your eyes at his comment.

A chip fell from his mouth, landing on the floor. This irked you even more. Not only was he 45 minutes late, but now he was actively adding to the mess you were trying to clean up. “Here,” you say sternly, shoving the mop and bleach spray towards him and snatching the bag of chips he was holding.

“Hey! I was eating those!” He exclaims, attempting to grab them back from you. “Bye Chris,” you reply, already beginning to walk off, eating a chip in the process. You quickly learned that you didn’t even like this chip flavor, but you couldn’t stand looking at Chris’s face right now so you took them simply to mess with him. “Wait! You didn’t finish cleaning this up!” He called back, looking between you and the mess on the floor. The mop felt so foreign in his hands, he never mopped. You or one of your other coworkers always did that, but never Chris.

“I’m good to go!” You replied, quoting his own words as you pushed the front door and walked out, the doorbell ringing in the process. You threw the bag of chips away on the way to your car. Now it was Chris’s turn to be haunted by the doorbell.

—

The next day you were off so you decided to focus your energy on studying and binge watching your favorite tv shows. You had a few exams coming up so you made a mental note to specifically study for those. You hadn’t even reached the end of the first day when you received a call from Chris.

You debated on whether or not you should answer it, knowing it had to be a work related call. ‘Someone probably called in,’ you thought. You weighed out the pros and cons quickly in your head. ‘Pros? I answer this call and get more hours. More hours equals more money,’ you thought. On the other hand, the cons were never ending. ‘Cons? everything.’

After letting it ring five times, you picked up the phone and placed it on your ear, “Hello?” You could faintly hear the hum of the convenience store refrigerators in the background along with loud chewing. Chris was definitely eating yet another snack. “Y/n, Marcus called in again. Do you think you can come in?” Chris asks, getting straight to the point.

Why was everyone at your job so unreliable? “Umm I don’t know, I’m pretty busy right now,” you replied, staring at the exam notes sprawled out in front of you on your bed. “You don’t sound busy,” he said sassily and followed it with loud crinkling noises as he tried reaching the chip at the bottom of the bag. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You sounded offended but Chris didn’t notice. He mostly wanted you to come in so he wouldn’t have to get through this shift alone. Of course he could’ve called someone else to come in, but for whatever reason he found himself calling you.

Today was Friday and although your store was generally slow, Fridays tended to pick up around 5pm when everyone was either getting off work or picking their kids up from school. “It means that you don’t sound busy,” he replied again, still crinkling his chip bag. His fingers were so greasy at this point that he kept missing the last chip every time he almost had it.

“I mean, what are you even doing right now? Studying?” He asked again. It was a rhetorical question, but the answer was yes. A loud crunch was heard through the speaker, he finally found that one straggling chip and was now incessantly chewing on it. ‘Lucky guess,’ you thought as you began piling all your notes together in embarrassment. “I’ll be there in 20,” you replied, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation.

“You’re studying aren’t you,” he chuckles, crumpling the chip bag, creating a make-shift basketball. He sits in the stool, shifting his body in the direction of the trash can that sat in the corner so he could throw his bag away. “Shut up,” you grumble, getting up from your bed to start getting ready.

“KOBE!” He shouts, throwing the bag in the direction of the trash can with a swift flick of his wrist. He missed terribly and the bag hit the floor with a soft thud.

—

You arrive to work 20 minutes later, mentally preparing yourself for the long 8 hour shift ahead of you. When you walked inside you noticed Chris had a long line of customers forming, all of them holding a multitude of items. Dread filled your body as you realized that you actually had to work and couldn’t just sit there as you waited for your shift to end.

You made your way behind the counter and situated yourself to the right of Chris, motioning for the next customer in line towards your register. “I can help who’s next in line,” you said loudly. The next customer quickly shuffled over to you, dumping all their things on the counter for you to scan.

The rush doesn’t last long, both you and Chris checking customers out quickly and efficiently in order to get them out the door as fast as possible. “Thanks for coming in,” Chris finally says, watching as you grab a box of candy from under the counter. The box is heavy, causing you to heave slightly when you pick it up. Chris notices this and quickly sits up off his stool to help you with the box. “Yeah, it’s whatever,” you reply nonchalantly, allowing him to help you pick the box up.

He’s now holding the box with ease before inquiring what your intentions with this box of candy were, “you gonna stock up?” You hum in response, ready to take the box back from him so you could begin stocking up the now bare candy shelves around the store. He notices this and offers to help carry it around for you. It was the least he could do after calling you in on your day off. “I got it,” he says, adjusting his arms so the box is comfortable enough to carry around.

“Thanks,” your reply is simple, they always were. Chris had never been able to break through to you on a personal level. Throughout your shifts you would always make small talk to pass the time and he was able to learn small details about your life, but he was never was able to learn anything truly personal about you. On one occasion, for example, he learned that you were working here to pay for your school, but he never learned what you were going to school for. Another time he also learned that you had a dog, but you never told him its name.

All your other coworkers had opened up to him with ease, sharing personal details about their life and even trauma dumping a few times. He wondered why you were always so distant. He wanted to get to know you better, but he didn’t know how.

Chris follows behind you as you stock up the shelves, watching as you organize the rows neatly before moving on to the next. He catches sight of a package of Twizzlers, deciding he was going to use this as his talking point. “These are my favorite candies,” he comments, handing you the package so you can organize it onto the shelf. You don’t even respond, you just continue working like some type of task bot.

He sighs quietly, wondering if he should’ve asked someone else to come in for Marcus. Chris wants to give up, but he decided to try again, “What’s your favorite candy, y/n?” The question causes you to pause. ‘If I wanted to be quizzed, I would’ve stayed home to study,’ you thought, already wishing that these next 8 hours would just be over.

“Um… I don’t know? M&M’s are okay, I guess,” you respond, providing him with a half-ass answer in hopes that he’ll take the hint and stop asking questions. He doesn’t.

“What color M&M is your favorite?” He asks, thinking about the different M&M characters from the commercials. “I don’t know, they all taste the same to me,” you quipped back, trying to focus on neatly organizing the shelves in front of you. He was still trudging behind you and although the box he was holding became lighter with each candy you removed, it was still heavy. He adjusted the box again and pulled it up higher against his chest.

“No, I meant like the characters,” he laughs, his mind replaying all those funny commercials where the M&M’s are getting into trouble. You were silent, seemingly confused with whatever he was talking about. “You know! From the commercials!” He sounds excited, hoping that you know what he’s talking about so he doesn’t sound like an idiot. You don’t remember but decide to just go along with him for the sake of your own sanity, “oh yeah, the red one was pretty cool.”

He scoffs at this response, pretending to act offended, “the orange one was clearly the best.” You chuckle at this and it instantly puts a smile on his face. Finally he was getting somewhere with you.

Chris would be lying if he said he didn’t find you pretty. You were the prettiest girl who worked here, which really wasn’t saying much considering the only other woman who worked here was a 65 year old named Gladys, but he’d been around town and he could never find a single girl hotter than you. So, yes, he’d sneak a few glances your way here and there and was always excited to come into work when you were scheduled. Sometimes he would even come in on his days off to buy a soda for an excuse to see you.

You found Chris attractive too, but you mostly found him annoying. He had a pretty terrible work ethic and every time you worked with him it felt like you were stuck doing all the hard labor. Not to mention the fact that he was always running late, forcing you to cover for him until he arrived. Plus he was always snacking on something and leaving his crumbs all over the place for you to clean. Despite all this, he did have his few good moments. Like right now when he’s helping you carry the heaviest box in the store.

“I knew I could make you laugh,” he comments, handing you the last package of candy in the box. You roll your eyes at his comment before responding, “it doesn’t take much to make me laugh, kid.” Your comment was meant to push his buttons, but he didn’t mind the challenge. “Is that a challenge?” He asks, a small smirk growing on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. This earns him another eye roll from you.

“I’d like to see you try,” you respond with a cheeky smile as you take the empty box from him so you can throw it away. Chris watches as you walk away, feeling absolute smitten by you and confident in his skills to make you laugh at least one more time in the next eight hours.

‘This is going to be fun,’ he thought.

—

Chris spends the next 8 hours of your shift trying to make you laugh. He tells bad jokes, pulls silly faces, and even does stupid little dances all in an attempt to see you smile. You laughed at his first joke, but it was quiet enough for him to miss it. You were grateful for that because it egged him on.

“C’mon y/n! Just one little laugh, one giggle, a chuckle even,” he pleads, walking closer to you from behind the counter. You shake your head playfully as you sit back in your stool and face him. He inches closer once again as his mind comes up with the perfect plan of action to get you to laugh,, “what if I do this!”

He pounces on you, using his fingers to poke at your sides as he tickles you. Immediately you burst into a fit of laughter as you attempt to push his hands away, but he uses his strength to keep them in place. “Chris! Stop!” you say in between laughter. He has the biggest smile on his face because he finally got to hear you laugh after so many failed attempts.

Chris continues to tickle you, failing to notice how your body is beginning to slide off the stool. Before he knows it, you’re leaning backwards and heading straight for the floor beneath you. You shriek at the feeling and reach forward to latch yourself onto Chris’s arms to prevent yourself from falling. He immediately stops tickling you and grabs you firmly by the waist, catching you before you can slip off the chair completely.

At this point his forehead is flush against yours, both your eyes locked in a heated stare as your breath fans against his lips. You tried catching your breath, both from the laughing and from the scare you’d just gotten. The moment feels so intense and intimate, all Chris can think about is how easy it would be to kiss you.

‘Fuck it,’ he thinks as he closes his eyes, ready to lean forward and capture your lips in his before he can psych himself out. You do the same, too lost in the moment to realize that you were about to kiss Chris, your coworker who you found annoying up until a few hours ago. Before your lips can meet, the sound of the doorbell rings through the store causing you to break away as quickly as possible.

You both look towards the front door, fully expecting a customer to be standing there but you’re met with nothing. It was just the wind from outside, it had pushed the door open slightly and triggered the doorbell.

Both of you cough awkwardly, deciding to avoid each other for the rest of your shift.

—

Finally, your shift is over. You and Chris worked together silently to close the store up and restock any bare shelves. Once you grab your things you prepare to walk outside and over to your car. Chris was outside already on the phone near the gas pumps. He was calling his brother to pick him up, but he wasn’t picking up.

When you make your way outside, you use your keys to lock the doors behind you. As you fumble with the keys you hear Chris muttering something under his breath before groaning. You turn to walk over to your car, ready to leave without Chris, but as you reach for the door handle you stop to look in his direction one last time. He’s now sitting on the curb, looking in the opposite direction of you. He’s debating in his head whether he should ask you for a ride or just walk home in the dark.

You watch as he gets up abruptly as he decides he was just going to walk home. He couldn’t bare having to sit in a car with you after what happened today. The guilt ate at you, causing you to offer him a ride. “Need a ride?” You shouted in his direction, waiting patiently for him to turn around and acknowledge you. Immediately his head turned in your direction at the question. He silently thanked God for your offer because he really didn’t want to walk home, but he was to embarrassed to ask for a ride. This also meant that you probably weren’t as upset with him as he thought you were. In reality you weren’t mad at all, but you did feel a little awkward.

He jogged over to your car, standing in front of the passenger side door awkwardly almost like he was waiting for permission to get in. “You getting in?” You asked as you opened the your car door and hopped in. “Oh. Um, yeah,” he stutters before following suit and getting in the passenger seat.

The ride to his house is silent, the only noises being the radio and the sound of the car engine. Considering he doesn’t live far, it doesn’t take long for you to arrive to his house. You pull up to the side of the street and place the car in the park, waiting for him to thank you and get out like he always does when you drive him home. He doesn’t immediately get out though, instead he sits in the passenger seat quietly as he rubs his clammy hands against his thighs to relieve some of the anxiety building up inside of him.

Chris’s mind is racing a mile a minute as he thinks of all the possibilities this night could lead to. He could get out of the car, leaving you with nothing but a simple thank you and then let your relationship return to normal. Or, he could do the unthinkable and gain an outstanding reward in return. Whatever he chose, he knew he’d have to deal with the consequences and right now he was willing to gamble.

“You good?” You ask him as you shift in your seat to gain a better look at his face. He looks so nervous that you almost don’t recognize him because it completely contrasts his usual energetic and confident demeanor. “Yeah, I just-“ he’s struggling to find the right words, afraid to say the wrong thing and ruin it all. “You just?” You push, wanting to know what he’s getting at.

Chris sighs, taking one last pause to gather his thoughts before completely shifting towards you. His eyes pierce into yours as he searches them trying to gauge whether his next move will affect his chances at a future with you. Upon further inspection, he decides to just do it.

“I just-” he begins to say but cuts himself off by planting his lips on yours. You’re caught by surprise at his actions, eyes widening in shock and arms falling stiff to your sides. His hands move up to your face, cupping your cheek in an attempt to get you closer, but once he realizes you’re not kissing him back he completely pulls away from you.

It took you a while to process what had just happened; Chris just kissed you! Despite your reaction, you were satisfied with the outcome of the night. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-” he begins to apologize, but you interrupt him this time. Your lips are back on his, both your hands cupping his face to keep him as close to you as possible. A sigh of relief escapes him, his warm breath landing on your lips. He melts into your touch, placing one of his hands on yours that rested on his face. Chris tasted like candy which only made you want the kiss that much more.

Finally you two pull away from the kiss, letting go of each other slowly. He has a goofy smile on his face as he stares at you, taking in every aspect of your being. “Stop looking at me like that,” you giggle, covering your face in embarrassment.

He laughs along with you, pulling your hands away from your face before replying, “see, I told you I’d make you laugh.” You roll your eyes, moving your face closer to his once again.

“Shut up,” you whisper, kissing him for the third time that night.

—

A/n: I wrote a Matt story so yk I had to write a Chris story. Nick is next don’t worry lololol. Also, I’ve seen your requests/ anon messages and trust that I’m gonna respond to those too! Thanks for reading 🩵enjoy girlies!

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

[icallhimjoey]

I really miss Joe in the bookstore 🥺 could you do a drabble (short or long one) of him rushing in after having been away for weeks and there's customers, and Anne's there, but he doesn't care and just scoops you up because he missed you so much? I just need more of them pretty please 😚

oh no, oh no no no, this is dangerous territory to be stepping into Wordcount: 1.1K

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Forty-seven Days

If you didn’t count the text messages, the phone calls, and the facetiming, you hadn’t seen Joe for forty-seven days. Forty-seven days. Had it felt excruciatingly long? Yes. Were you absolutely fine all throughout it? Also, yes. The long periods of time before, where you wouldn’t contact each other at all, had really trained you into managing yourself through missing Joe.

It had also been nice that fans knew he was out of the country, and they stopped coming into the store to solely look for him. Although some of them learned your name and would try to strike up friendships you weren’t interested in, because their motive would obviously be to get closer to Joe, which was awkward. It really took some getting used to, but when your best friend had shown you how some of them would stick up for you online, you stopped worrying about it.

“Anne, could you help me get these up there?” you called out from a corner of the shop, ladder set in place, big cardboard box at your feet and an empty shelf high up above you.

Anne’s responsibilities had grown as she’d dropped out of college. You tried to encourage her to stick with it, but you remembered how much you had wanted to drop out of college when you were her age, so you didn’t berate her. Instead, you offered her more hours, because honestly, having an extra pair of hands just on the weekends wasn’t cutting it anymore.

Anne said goodbye to a customer before stepping around the counter and holding onto the ladder as you climbed up it.

“Can I take one of these?” Anne asked, eyeing the books that were going up as she handed them to you.

“Of course, put one aside.” You’d felt for the longest time you needed to have read every single book you put out in the store, because it meant you could help your customers best. It was nice that now it felt like a shared task with Anne which meant that you were putting more time towards cooking actual nutritious meals – something Joe enjoyed greatly. You know, when he was actually around to enjoy them.

The door opened and a mother walked in with two teenage boys. You both greeted them, and as Anne handed the last couple of books from the box, she made her way over to ask if they needed help.

They didn’t, they’d browse.

You still weren’t sure if Anne’s demeanour was the reason people hardly ever wanted any help from her, but you had to admit that she’d warmed up loads compared to when she’d first started at the store. She’d sometimes even smile – smirk. It was more of a smirk, with sort of an evil glint in her eyes as she did. But if you squinted, you could mistake her for looking friendly.

Anne stepped back to pick up the empty box from the floor and held onto the ladder as you started to descend them, when suddenly the door flew open forcefully, triggering the bell above the door with a bang.

“There she is,”

“Joe?”

You had heard him before you’d seen him, and just as your feet were about to take the last step down, two arms wrapped themselves around your waist and yanked you from the ladder.

“Oh my God, put me down!” you squealed in his arms, very aware that there were customers a couple of steps removed from you, but Joe didn’t care.

When your feet found the floor, Joe turned you in his arms and you didn’t even have time to look at him. His lips found yours fast, and Joe’s hands moved from your waist to your face, cupping and caressing. What could have been a cute welcome home kiss quickly grew deeper, inappropriately so for the time of day, the location you were in and the people you were around. Joe pressed his full body against yours and you fell back against the ladder that you’d just been perched upon seconds earlier. God, you had missed him.

“This is great,” Anne deadpanned sarcastically, still stood next to you. Joe comically placed his full palm over Anne’s face and pushed her away from him, then using both his arms to wrap around you in a tight hug, lips never leaving yours.

Anne could deal with it, you thought. She knew it’d been well over a month since you’d been able to share your affection for each other with her. You swore Joe would some days wait with his kisses or bum pinches until Anne would be around, just because she was so vocal about hating it.

When you felt Joe moving back, you chased his mouth and pulled him back into you by the back of his neck. You weren’t finished.

“These ones? Did you find everything you were looking for?” you heard Anne from behind the counter as she helped the lady who’d stepped in earlier and rung her up for the books she’d picked out.

“I thought you wouldn’t get here until tomorrow?” you spoke whilst Joe’s lips found different spots of you to press kisses into. “I lied,” Joe simply replied, not satisfied with the short absence of the feel of your mouth and getting straight back into it.

You were overcome by how many things you'd missed of Joe, a realisation you were happy to have now that Joe was there. You would've driven yourself mad had you had it earlier. You'd missed the way Joe's hips would press into yours, for one. And the way Joe's breath would hitch and sigh in your kisses. And, perhaps this was your favourite thing, the way you could leave Joe a moaning puddle by scratching your fingertips up the back of his neck into his hair. Doing it then, just to check if it still worked, left Joe moaning loudly into your mouth.

“Honestly, get a fucking room,” Anne spoke from behind the counter. You didn’t even care that she swore before you could hear the door close behind the customers that had just left.

Joe thought Anne’s suggestion was an excellent idea and you felt his hands grip the back of your thighs, hoisting you up in a tight hug around his body. You wrapped your legs around his butt and held onto him for dear life as he started moving towards the backroom. You couldn’t help but giggle into your kisses, and just before you were about to disappear from Anne’s view, you broke from Joe for a second and shouted, “Double-time wage!” at her, as Joe kicked open the door.

----

read Like A Poem here read A Lot Like Love here

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The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 @thatonefan-girl @kylakins88 @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks​ - add yourself  

[russburlingame]

B is for Blockbuster

Okay, so this story isn’t about Blockbuster, but it’s about video stores. And for a generation of people – my generation – video stores and Blockbuster Video are inextricably bound together.

This is a fictionalized account -- or at least, the bit about my relationship with "Erin" (not her real name) is. What’s true, what’s not? Doesn’t really matter. The stuff that matters is true, and you get to decide what about this story matters.

I was 21 years old when my heart was broken for the first time.

I had been dating Erin – a friend from high school who turned into more – for a little over a year, and I was sure – absolutely sure – that I was going to marry her. When she got accepted to the University of New Hampshire – a several-hour-drive away – I bought my first car (hers) just so I could go see her on the weekends.

On her birthday, I was waiting for Erin to get back from dinner and call me, to let me know she had gotten home okay. She was on a trip with her sailing club – yeah, apparently that’s a thing at some colleges – and I just wanted to touch base before going to sleep. No, this isn’t a tragic story of somebody lost at sea. She just got drunk and made out with somebody.

Either way, she didn’t call me that night, or until well into the next day. This was 2001, and it wasn’t especially common for people to be in constant contact via text, so sometimes, you just…didn’t know what was up with people you loved. Crazy, I know.

Erin finally called me, tearfully confessed, and I forgave her. I was scared for her safety and glad to find out that she was fine.

We talked for hours that day, but a week later, she called again: she didn’t think she could keep up the distance thing. She needed more than a weekend boyfriend.

I was crushed, and I begged her to hold off on making a decision until we had seen each other again. The summer was coming up, and we were both really excited about seeing Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back, so I figured it was worth having one last day out, and a long talk face to face.

It didn’t really work out that way. She agreed to the idea, but didn’t call me again for the rest of the semester, and it was pretty obvious things were doomed. When she got home from school, she asked if I wanted to come over for an afternoon, and I did – although this was about a month and change early for Kevin Smith.

We hung out, played Scrabble, fooled around, and got into a playful wrestling match. She managed to pin me to the ground, and instead of taking advantage of my helplessness, she kissed me on the cheek and got back up.

Oof.

With a few hours left before her parents came home, we decided on watching a movie.

What movie?

No ideas came. Erin suggested a trip to the video store.

Now, you young’uns don’t understand that the video store was a great place to hang out in the days before the modern internet. I could kill hours there. So, hell yeah, let’s go to the video store. Erin drove, and we headed east out onto the big boulevard where all the stores are. To my surprise, we passed right by Blockbuster. Where were we going?

The local Blockbuster, which was about a half-mile from Erin’s house, was the only video store I knew of on this side of town. To go anywhere else I knew about, it was at least an extra ten to fifteen minutes of driving. Chimney’s, the great video store that had been another mile or so down the road, had recently folded, much to everyone’s collective chagrin.

Erin turned toward Chimney’s, and I figured maybe she was just confused.

“Chimney’s is closed,” I said, bemused.

“Yeah, I know. I’m going to a place my dad likes,” she answered. Another mile, a turn, and…well, damn. There’s another video store.

Emerald City Video was a store with a narrow storefront, but inside, it was cavernous. The store was probably 20 feet wide by 60 feet deep, with a great selection and an adult room hidden in the back corner. Movie props hung from some of the walls – high enough up that you couldn’t take them down and mess with them – including a shield from Spartacus, a costume used in Killer Klowns From Outer Space, and high-end replicas of props from The Mummy and the James Bond franchise.

This. Was. Heaven.

I was so immediately taken with the place, that I barely noticed when the guy behind the register greeted us. I wandered to the “special interest” section – where they had cult classics, documentaries, and anything LGBT-themed – and looked it up and down. A middle-aged woman with short hair and glasses saw me staring, and asked if I needed help.

“Oh – no, I was just checking things out. I’ve never been here,” I admitted. “This is a great store.”

Erin had gone to a more mainstream section of the store to find a movie we could watch while cuddling. It would be the last time, and by this point both of us knew it, so she looked for something sweet and timeless and sentimental. She really went all in on giving this relationship a proper sendoff.

Me? I was sitting in the Special Interest section, talking with…umm…

“I’m Russ,” I said, offering my hand. The woman took it.

“I’m Rita,” she said. “I’m one of the owners.”

I don’t remember what movie Erin and I watched. I don’t remember what Rita and I talked about. What I do remember, is that by the end of the conversation, Rita suggested I should apply for a job at the store.

I had just, days before, started a job at Barnes & Noble. Like basically everyone else, I applied to be a bookseller, and got immediately hired to sling coffees for B&N/Starbucks. I take black coffee, and am very – very – bad at making sweet, frothy coffee drinks. I knew my days were numbered. I took the application. It’s been more than 20 years since I walked into that store for the first time, and as far as I know, there are no extant photos of “Store 1” – the location where I first encountered Emerald City Video. But I can still see it when I close my eyes. It was – ironic, given its name – a magical place.

I would work at Emerald City Video – mostly at Store 2 – on and off for the next 7 years, before moving to New York City to chase down my dreams of being an entertainment writer.

Where was Store 2? Well, we manage to get hold of the store formerly known as Chimney’s. For years, it had been our town’s home entertainment Mecca, and now, ECV was going to restore it to its former glory.

Of course, now it’s split up between a cardio kickboxing place and a laser hair removal center. But still.

I still love Erin. Dating her was good for my personal development, good for my soul. She’s a good person, and the once-in-a-blue-moon when we get to chat, I always enjoy it. And on top of everything else, Erin gets to claim credit for introducing to the place that would change my life.

When I was 24, I first met my (now) wife Cali…at Emerald City Video.

Cali was a customer, and she had a crush on me. I was in another relationship, and entirely oblivious to her interest. My obliviousness was taken as disinterest, and nothing happened for a handful of years, before we finally bumped into each other while single. But it’s funny to think about how the first girl to really, truly break my heart, was the one who brought me to Emerald City Video. She put me in the right place, at the right time, to meet the person who still makes that heart swell every day.

In 2021, I fulfilled a life-long dream and published my first book. For a variety of reasons, I went the self-publishing route. The name of my publisher? ECV Analog. The logo: a modified version of the old Emerald City Video logo. Rita and her husband Jim, the owners of Emerald City, joined me at a movie theater nearby to celebrate the book launch.

[kanamori-kamper-moved]

🥰

KAORU N YUUYU RIGHT NOW/nf

Saying I love you without I love you. THIS PROMPT WORKS SO WELL WITH THEM?? SOBS??

Also there’s more lore for my fanseries in here if you’re interested!! It’s small but yknow

-

Kaoru was the most impressive man Yuuyu knew by all means. He was handsome, and caring, and even though it was very telling of her own behavior, he could actually remember the things he needed to do on top of being her manager. But now, that her career as a duelist was getting so big to the point she needed a manager, to her own disappointment, she had to actually be an adult and take care of her responsibilities.

Yuuyu didn’t make a habit of sleeping in, always waking up at 4:15 to prepare pastries for the cafe Vanilla graciously left in her care. Although he was no longer with her, he couldn’t let him down, no matter where he was.

Yuuyu stretched her arms, flipping over her fluffy white blanket and getting out of her bed. No matter how early it was, she was dedicated to her work. Slipping on her shoes, and pulling her sweater onto her slim arms, she pulled herself down the stairs to open up the door to the entrance to the backdoor of the cafe.

To her surprise, the lights were already on. She must’ve forgotten to turn them off before closing up shop. No matter, just a slip up.

But the moment she stepped out of the kitchen to the front of the store, there he was.

Kaoru.

“Oh, Yuuyu!” He perked up, standing in front of a table. “I should’ve called you before coming in, I was just setting tables. Because last time we met, you gave me an extra key in case I needed to get to you, and I just thought you needed some help.

“Oh, no, it’s fine!” Yuuyu slowly walked over to him, feeling somewhat embarrassed for coming down without getting properly dressed to see him. Kaoru wasn’t too formal with what he wore, always a softly colored turtleneck or a sweater with jeans. They fit him oh so well. “You already finished setting them this quick? You must’ve gotten up earlier than me.” Her voice was soft, although still somewhat groggy. The sun had barely come up, after all.

“Do you need help with anything else? I’m free until about 1, I think.” Kaoru asked, turning over to face her.

“I was just about to prepare dough for some croissants, nothing else..” She played with her cotton candy colored hair, trying to avert eye contact to the best she could, “You can get some butter from the fridge and roll it out on a sheet pan while I make the dough. But I wouldn’t wanna trouble you, of course!”

“Please, you never do. It’s a joy to be around you.”

Was it really?

Following Vanillas untimely passing, she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She’d work herself into the night, and whenever she wasn’t she was locked up in her room, mouth growing thick and venomous with silence. The hours kept passing by, and she never left her house, or touched her deck as the sky shifted and cicadas died. No matter how worried Trip or Hana or, hell, that kind boy, Pit, from nextdoor was, they were to hesitant on knocking on her door to do much.

She didn’t see herself as much of a joy to be around. Her mood swings were awful, whenever she wasn’t putting on a smile and wearing a frilly apron to serve pastries to people she was either rotting away in her bed, scrolling through her phone trying to ignore all of the texts they’d sent together, or crying, not saying a word to anyone unless spoken to first.

But she slowly climbed out of that home, but even then, at times she couldn’t help but miss him. At least there was Kaoru to distract from it.

Yuuyu had taken up dueling in her free time, she’d competed in the Glacé Cup and even though she’d lost it didn’t remove her status as a popular duelist, or any of the friends she’d made, leading her to meet Kaoru.

Her first meeting with him was something she would never forget, she was sure. Just as every other meeting they’d had, even this one.

The two had eventually moved to the kitchen, Yuuyu grabbing a bag of flour from the cabinet and a few measuring cups, just before setting them on the kitchen island. “The pans are in the bottom left cabinet, the rolling pin in the drawer under the sink, next to the big knife.”

“Oh, and don’t forget to grab an apron from the side.

Kaorus expression was just a soft smile, rolling out a stick of butter onto the pan just as Yuuyu had asked so she could roll it into the dough she was preparing. His features were so femininely beautiful, yet so impossibly handsome and masculine.

“Why’d you come here so early, anyway? Not even Hana is up this early, and she works here.” Yuuyu lightly chuckled. “Like I said, I thought you’d need the extra help.”

Even then, his delicate hands kept the same motions. “No, really. I know you, give me the actual reason.”

Running the cafe had become somewhat harder these days, especially after the final duel of the Glacé Cup between Yuuyu and a person she’d rather not name. It was almost like the first days Vanilla had joined The Eight, and the door was practically bust down by all the preteen girls who fancied him.

“Okay, you got me. Maybe I just like spending time with you, what are you gonna do about that?” He turned his head to her once more, smirking.

“Awfully sweet of you, Kaoru.”

“Not as sweet as these croissants, I’m sure. These are gonna be chocolate, right?”

“How’d you know?” She perked up, noticing the carefully handwritten recipe book she’d kept was in the wrong place, being on the kitchen island instead of on the front counter. “I read your recipe book, and I bought one while you weren’t working. They’re to die for, you know. Guess it’s just you working your magic!”

“You could say that..” Yuuyu couldn’t help but blush.

“But speaking of chocolate, fetch me a knife and a bar of it from the freezer.” Yuuyu asked, noticing that Kaoru was done with the butter, having perfectly rolled it into a perfect square which she would fold into the pastry dough.

”Of course, anything for you.”

Anything?

“You can chop that up, boil it over the stove, and make sure to mix it so it doesn’t stick. And put it in a piping bag when it’s done, too.”

Kaoru nodded, doing just as she said. “I really do enjoy spending time with you, y’know. I don’t get much done at home other than just doing paperwork.”

“Even if it’s just making stuff for the cafe, I’m glad.”

Yuuyu’s earlier blush only came from flattery, but this one, was from pure affection. She couldn’t really believe someone could go out of their way to wake up so early just to help her bake some pastries that they wouldn’t even get to eat. “Th.. Thank you..”

“Really, it’s nothing. Just my pleasure.”

“I know things have been hard for you, they really have been, and I’m sure you don’t want to admit it. Just, know I’m here.”

“Even if I’m just your manager, I’m your friend, no, more than your friend, honestly. Don’t be afraid to come to me, okay? I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.” Kaorus smile was soft, even softer than his earlier one, so as to make Yuuyu’s heart melt within her own chest. It was simply too much for her.

Kaoru turned off the stove, licking the partially chocolate covered spoon off with his own tongue. Normally, she would’ve scolded him for it, but she’d let him have this just this once. Just as a treat.

He’d said earlier that these croissants were sweeter than his own actions, but Yuuyu was certain he was even sweeter, to a tooth-rotting degree.

And as Kaoru walked to the cabinet to grab that piping bag, Yuuyu was sure of something as a smile, almost as soft as his, creeped onto her own face.

She was sure that she loved Kaoru, even though he hadn’t said it.

[crystalwitch222]

~Life Update~

First of all I want to say thank you to everyone that follows my ADHD Soul blog and thank you to everyone that follows my gaming content content I appreciate all the support ❤️

Here’s an update on life..animal job didn’t work out it didn’t help the depressive slump I’ve been in. The way they trained wasn’t great and it’s the fact that there was no actual manager just a bunch of young ppl working there. For learning some things my type of brain half ass training doesn’t work for me I need hands on learning or might need a little extra to learn something but once I learn whatever sometimes I exceed expectations and try to be perfectionist. So losing job was a real let down for me. I sometimes wonder if I should’ve mentioned the ADHD thing but would it really hurt or help me and sometimes I wonder if I should get a letter or something from my doctor that could protect me from being let go or certain treatment at work. So that job ended in March/February. It wasn’t till December I decided to give another job a chance I actually was hired on the spot it was another shoe store I was so excited but everything wasn’t as it seemed I was supposed to be hired as full time and then apparently it turned it I wasn’t. They are weird about taking breaks sometimes like most places I’ve worked you are required to take a 30 min lunch and a 10/ 15 min small break if you work 5 or more hours even working just 4 gets you 10/15 mins. If it’s really busy some managers prefer you to eat while working. Like no sorry sometimes ppl need to sit down like we ac right now either. This company the way things are ran is more competitive and just different from the last shoe store I worked at We got a new store manager just seems colder more old school. It just makes me miss my old shoe store even more…

My old shoe store job had closed during covid. We all never officially everyone never said goodbye to each other and It was at a new location I had been at for about 6 months and didn’t accomplish everything I wanted to/ dealing with mean girl type of drama & as still processing the fact that I lost my original store I started out at I originally didn’t want to relocate and stop being the assistant manager. We lost another store manager ( losing the first one was real hard for me too ) so they thought it was best to move me to a more heavy volume store to be a sales lead manager. I felt like my time was cut short as an ASM and I felt like I wasn’t always taken seriously and their communication sucked at the end and tbh when I look back on it I was younger I could’ve used a little more training with some things but still their communication could’ve been better talking goes both ways. I’ll talk more about it another time.

After the shoe store company closed my little fun nameless part time job became my main job.. I fought through bs to became a supervisor at a new high volume location I knew store manager for a long time worked with him at multiple locations I even once called him my friend. Working there turned into a nightmare toxic work environment bc the assistant manager has it out for me but tbh she ends up having a problem with everyone there was always something wrong.. Then there was other stuff but more of that later.. yes I told my store manager after holidays that I wanted to be done but I was upset I thought he was my friend is that no reason to ever call or text an employee when they took a leave of absence when they get sick with covid ? No one ever reached out to me to see how I was doing so I thought they didn’t want me to come back so I never went back and a few months later my store manager who I thought was my friend blocked me on Snapchat. I’m still trying to live with my decision that I never reached out and still debating if I ever will… I wonder if I was put as fired and not rehire able.. i was great at my job I really loved the job itself just not the location in the end.. then sometimes I do miss my friend… who was my store manager..this was the first ever place to really inspire to be a manager run a place have a business this was the first place I wanted to be a manager at. For months I thought about texting him but I couldn’t do it I don’t know why or how I became this way but it got to a point at work where I stopped texting my manager every time there was a problem it just got tiring.

So it’s been a rocky road with work places every job has its negatives and not every job will have bad management. So all that is kinda what lead to my slump along with at the beginning of it all I had a condition that acting up again but I deal with it the best I can with diet and supplements. It’s called IC/PBS ( interstitial Cystitis / painful bladder syndrome ) on top that I think have OAB 😭

So here am I figuring out what to do next no health insurance might be diabetic

Right after leaving nameless job I got back into gaming started giving streaming a try and start making gaming content I’m still doing it but it can only distract me so much now and bring me so happiness but I’ll keep doing it bc I know there are ppl that enjoy my content and if it brings somebody some sort of joy that that makes me happy too. Who knows maybe one of my videos will blow up someday one of them once got 50k views. At one point I was streaming everyday I’ll possibly get back to that we”ll see. Also trying to get back into writing and blogging more check out my ADHD Soul blogs on Tumblr and Reddit . Also enjoy photography and started wire wrapping crystals thinking about possibly selling some. Check out my Instagram to see @crystalwitch_22 We”ll see. Thanks for reading.

Follow me if you want on

Twitch/Kick/TikTok/Pinterest: CrystalWitch_22

YouTube: CrystalWitch_22 TV

[grouchythefish]

Do you have any advice for someone considering a job at Costco.?

I'm not sure if you mean advice for getting a job there, being sucessful there, or if it's a place you should work so I'm just gonna uhhhh, say a whole bunch of stuff and hopefully something here is what you wanted to know.

Disclaimer: I work at a costco in canada so I'm not sure how much of this is accurate if you live anywhere else. I've heard from people who have worked at other costcos that our location is a fairly relaxed one.

the bad:

compared to other retail jobs I feel much more scrutinized here

it isn't uncommon for people to be let go at the end of their 3 month probation or at the end of their seasonal contract. I've seen a lot of people I thought were good employees get let go.

the training is not great, you do kind of get thrown into things and expected to know things and then get in shit for not knowing things you were never told

If you aren't good at sales, don't work front end or membership because the expectations for marketing are high and you are very pressured to push membership upgrades and credit cards.

Everything goes by seniority so it can take a long time to move up the ranks or get into certain departments or even just get full time unless you apply to stuff that no one else wants to do (like food court)

Every new hire starts part time and at the bottom of the pay scale no matter what experience or education you have.

there is no giving your boss your "availability" you have to have fully open availability or they won't hire you.

The work itself is very rigid in how they want you to do things

most of my "good" things are going to be pay related because that is largely what motivated me to stay

there is SO much drama. So many people have been there 15+ year and they all have weird grudges with each other, and everyone is petty about random stuff, it feels like being in high school a lot of the time.

The good:

minwage where I live is $15/h, starting pay for Costcos here is $17.50

that $17.50 is a base pay and there are a lot of premiums depending on what you are doing: eg. sundays are an extra $4/h, if you are on a forklift you get an extra $2/h, if you are on cash you get an extra $1/h. So very often you're getting more than $17.50

You get a raise every 1000 hours you work

The benefits package is great - health benefits, rrsp matching, life insurance etc, it all kicks in around 6 months in.

if you are willing to learn multiple departments and make it clear to managers that you want to learn and are able to pick up extra shifts you will almost never have to worry about your hours being cut

Because they only promote internally there are opportunities to move up - supervisor pay is $30.50/h and I was able to get contract supervisor in under a year.

even if you never want to move up or get full time or pick up extra hours, just staying there is worthwhile in the long run because the payscale caps out at around $30/h and once you're there around 5+ years you start getting biannual bonuses (currently these are $3000-4000 twice a year)

once you are in you can transfer stores to anywhere in the country without having to start over

free membership for you + 3 family members

trans policies are good and also not good, it's complicated.

its a very active job which is good and also bad. My feet hurt like hell every day for months until my body got used to it but i no longer have the back problems that working at a desk 8 hours a day for 5 years gave me.

honestly I like working there because while I'm there I can just turn my brain off and do the work and once I'm not at work I don't even have to think about it which is a lot healthier for me than most of the salary jobs I had before this.

Sorry this is a lot of text, and also sorry if this wasn't what you were asking for. Feel free to message me if you wanna know anything more specific or just wanna talk about it.

[voskhozhdeniye]

Work Shit

I have avoided talking about work on here beside rape coworker’s increasing depravity.  Last time I talked I posted that picture of all of that out of date product I had to throw out. We are still dealing with the fallout from that.

Dark Souls coworker is our head night stocker. He is basically in charge of the store until the grocery manager comes in. I texted him that picture and was like look at this shit. He told the grocery manager, who had me show him the product, and told me to scan and throw it out. Inventory was coming up, and anything that needs to be thrown out needs to be gone before inventory.

What we didn’t realize was that I had to scan out so much stuff that it alerted our district manager to possible theft or fraud. He called the store manager and told her to investigate. She asked coworker, but I scanned all that shit out on her day off. She had no clue what it was about. She talked to the grocery manager before she got to me, and he told her what was up. 1. Coworker had been telling management that she was going through overstock every week. If that was the case I wouldn’t have thrown out product that expired as far back as 2021. She got herself caught in a very big lie.

I’ve explained how the ordering system works on here before, but basically, you tell the computer how much product you have on hand and it orders it as customers buy it through the registers. It’s not perfect and can be a pain in the ass, but if you pay attention you can game it to work for you. You shouldn’t have to but..... 2. Coworker is in charge of doing the numbers for our department. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, and refuses to learn. I will defend her here. She’s not very tech savy, and stocking shelves is no longer just stocking shelves unfortunately. I honestly think it’s going completely over her head. Her main problem is she flat out refuses to learn even the basics. She is very much a “I’ve worked here for 3 decades you can’t tell me anything” person. She is also someone who has physically worked this job for 3 decades and it shows, but she only works one way. Even if there was a way that could help her preserve her body, she won’t do it.

3. The district manager, as with every district manager I’ve ever had is an asshole. We’re union so he can’t outright threaten us, but he’ll get as close as he can. He has been on the grocery manager’s ass about our and the dairy department’s compliance to the ordering system. He wants problems rooted out and fixed. Everyone in the store knows what our department’s problem is, but we have to officially figure it out. We have been building towards this since inventory. I’ve been working extra hours every week to try to help her out, but she.......

Our department has two aisles. On the 18th, they split us up. She gets one aisle and I get the other. We each work our own product, our own overstock and change the numbers for our own aisle. All of our overstock is separated in the back freezer. That way I don’t have to touch her stuff, and she doesn’t have to touch mine. In 9 days, I’ve gotten my product confined to 2 pallets. The second pallet is mostly firm orders, stock that’s on sale and we get sent extra of in case we run out. She has 6 pallets.

4. Yesterday one of our coworkers asked her a question about the ordering system, and her response was, “don’t know, don’t care.” I’m not suppose to, but I still help her in her aisle. She has to work ice cream, and if I left her alone with it, it would all be soup. When I’m by myself and have to work ice cream, I leave it in the back till the last possible minute to put it up. Usually I’ll put it on a six wheeler or u-boat so I can wheel it around, or put it back in the freezer if I need to. She drops everything on the floor. and takes hours to put it up. I will look at the shelf and separate what’s going up and what’s not needed on to different wheelers or stack what isn’t going on a pallet. She drops everything on the floor and then sifts through it. Regular ice cream melts faster than popsicles and novelties. She works popsicles and novelties first. She only works one way.

5. This morning rape coworker came down the aisle and saw the wall of ice cream she had on the floor. She lays it out up against the doors, so you gotta move it before you can even work it. He asked her if she was going to get it all stocked before it melted. How you shouldn’t thaw and refreeze it. She replied, “I don’t buy it, the customers buy it.” I wanted to scream. Now rape coworker is an idiot, but he’s not stupid. He just said oh and walked away. He didn’t bother us for the rest of the shift. Just yesterday Dark Souls coworker texted me and said I really shouldn’t be helping her at all with it. My responses was, “I’m not helping her, I’m helping the customers.”

6. Dark Souls coworker told me that after we left yesterday, the district manager called the store and asked about coworker directly.

[cryinginsidebecauseofbrutasha]

Day 5: Setting - Closet

“Peter?” Mr. Stark called him over.

Peter grinned, bouncing over. “Yeah, sir?”

Mr. Stark regarded him over the rims of his sunglasses. “You know how I’m having a party on the weekend and you want to be involved but your aunt doesn’t agree with that?” he asked off-handedly. “Want to be my coat boy?”

Peter blinked. “What?”

“Your aunt doesn’t want you to be in the party, but you do, and I think it’s a compromise to have you work,” Mr. Stark explained. “I’ll pay you.”

“Sure!” Peter smiled hesitantly. “Can my friend come?”

“The boy from your school? Ned?”

“No. My friend. MJ.” Peter flushed. “She likes to earn a little extra cash on the weekends.”

Mr. Stark’s eyes flicked up and down Peter. “A girl?”

Peter blushed darker. “She’s a friend.” He fidgeted with his jacket zipper. “She’s saving up for her university tuition.”

“What’s her name?” the billionaire asked. “Mary Jane?”

“Uh, Michelle Jones. Jones-Watson.”

Mr. Stark nodded. “Sure. Bring her. Thirty bucks per hour sound good to you?”

Peter blinked again. “Sure!” That was pretty good money. “How long is the whole thing?”

Mr. Stark smiled. “The party starts at seven at night but staff come an hour early. Ends around eleven but staff leaves an hour late. Same old procedures. Maria would be your point person.”

Peter wrinkled his brow. “Ms. Hill?”

“Yep.” Mr. Stark tapped his phone that lit up and turned it off. “She’s my assistant sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Peter shouldered his bag. “Well, Mr. Stark, I better get going. May doesn’t like it when I’m late.”

“Bye, kid,” Mr. Stark said. “See you on Friday.”

-

Peter hurried down the hallway to his lunch table with Ned and MJ.

“Hey,” he greeted them. 

MJ looked at him with a perfectly serious face, an open book in front of her. “You’re late,” she said stonily, snapping the book shut.

“I know.” Peter sat down. “Sorry.”

Ned chewed forgivingly.

The three ate amid the clatter of the cafeteria.

“Hey, do you guys want to study at my place on Friday?” Ned asked between his sandwich and his Snickers bar. “Lola’s going to make puto.”

Peter blinked and glanced at MJ. “Yeah— actually, about that.” He punched his fist lightly. “MJ, Mr. Stark wants me to work on Friday night. He says you can come too.”

MJ raised an eyebrow at him. “How much?”

“Thirty an hour.” Peter looked at Ned. “Sorry.”

Ned shrugged. “It’s fine. That means I get more puto.”

MJ nodded. “I’ll take the job. Friday night?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah.” Peter took a sip of his water. “I can swing by your apartment and we can walk to Avengers Tower together. We’re collecting jackets. For about six hours.”

MJ nodded. “Good deal. Dress code?”

Peter blinked. “Um.” He took out his phone and sheepishly texted Mr. Stark, who responded very quickly. “They say to dress for a funeral.”

MJ looked intrigued. “Is it a funeral?”

“Not that I know of,” Peter replied. He checked his watch. “I need to swing by the library and grab some stuff. See you guys after school.”

MJ waved half-heartedly while Ned just continued eating.

Peter smiled to himself as he walked to the library

-

He ran down the street, mentally cursing. 

It took longer than Peter thought for his suit to be done at the dry cleaner’s. He had his tie in one hand and his coat in the other, not having time to put it on before leaving the change rooms in the store.

Peter huffed as he buzzed MJ down to the foyer.

She opened the door in a jacket and a dress. “You’re late,” she noted again. 

Peter just stared.

MJ looked unimpressed. “What?”

Peter untied his tongue, nervously brushing the front of his shirt. Suddenly, he was very aware that he, on the other hand, had three buttons still undone on his shirt and he wasn’t even wearing his tie or his jacket. “Nothing,” he managed. “Let’s go.”

Thanks to good planning, Peter was only late for getting MJ and not arriving to the staff attendance check.

The two of them got there a few minutes early and met with their point person of the evening, Ms. Hill.

“You two are early,” the agent remarked. “Good.” She led them through to the coat-check area. “Your job is to take their jackets and give the person the jacket’s number. When they leave, they give you the jacket number slip and you return the jacket. Washrooms are down the hallway to the left. Your dinner will be at 9 and delivered quietly. Don’t damage or steal from the jackets. Clear?”

Peter nodded and MJ said, “Clear.”

Ms. Hill smiled. “Great. Have a nice time. Be polite and maybe you’ll even get tips.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hill,” the duo chorused.

The agent nodded and left to the next room.

Peter and MJ sat inside the coat-check booth. 

“So,” Peter said nervously. 

MJ looked up from putting her jacket away next to her. “What?”

“Uhhh,” Peter stumbled. “You look nice.”

“Thanks.” MJ regarded him and looked like she was trying not to laugh. “You look like you ran through a bush and got mugged.”

Peter sighed. “Thanks,” he muttered.

MJ actually laughed. “Give me your tie.”

Peter handed it over to her, and waited patiently as she tied it around his collar.

MJ leaned back, taking it in. She frowned and patted his mess of curls down. “There. You look less terrible now.”

“Thank you,” he said, trying not to flush at their proximity.

MJ, ever so perceptive, noticed. “You okay?”

“I, uh, I’m fine,” Peter said unconvincingly. Sure, he has the powers of a spider and could lift literal tanks. He just can’t lie. Which is fine. Not really. 

“You sure? You don’t sound fine,” MJ said, rummaging in her pockets, offering up a small, shiny, wrapped thing. “Do you want a candy?”

Peter looked at her. “You’re like a grandma.”

MJ kept the proffered hand out and Peter took one, popping it in his mouth. 

He spit it out instantly, into the palm of his hand. “What in the shit?” He wiped his hand on a tissue. “What was that?”

MJ looked concerned. “That was a mint.”

Peter suddenly thought back to a biology class when they had to study spiders. “Oh.” He looked from his palm to hers, which was still out. “Sorry.”

“No worries. You just confirmed a theory of mine.”

Peter froze. “What?”

MJ shrugged. 

The first of the guests started coming in after a few minutes of silent preparation for them. Soon enough, it was almost 9.

“You’re Spider-Man, aren’t you?” MJ asked casually.

Peter choked on a glass of water he got. “What?” he spluttered.

“You’re Spider-Man,” MJ said matter-of-factly. “I’ve watched you.”

“When?” 

MJ shrugged. “Whenever you weren’t looking.”

“So in my sleep?”

MJ studied him with critical eyes. “Maybe I was wrong.”

Peter couldn’t believe her. “Yes!” He nodded. “I’m not Spider-Man!”

She rolled her eyes. “Act’s over, Parker. I know.”

Peter sighed.

“I also know I like you.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

“Catch up, Parker.” MJ scribbled something onto a piece of paper to an onlooking guest. “I like you. Simple as that.”

“Like—” Peter blinked— “like like?”

MJ nodded. “Wouldn’t kill you to actually respond, would it?”

Peter opened his mouth and closed it again to not look like an idiot. “Uh.” He swallowed.

“It’s okay if you don’t reciprocate,” MJ said. “It’s just going to make a hell of a night.”

Peter unstuck his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “I like you too.”

MJ looked relieved. “Oh, good.” She handed Peter a coat and he gave her a ticket. “So I’m not going to die of embarrassment.”

Someone knocked softly on their door and a woman came in with a tray.

“Your dinners,” she said, leaving them on a side table. “Return the dishes to the kitchen when you leave.” She left.

Peter looked at MJ. “You take the first break while I finish up the line.”

“Sure.”

A few minutes later, Peter joined her in the back of the closet. “Hey.”

MJ was busy chewing on a piece of bread. She waved.

They had their dinner and they continued their job until 11:15, when they finally got everyone their coats and the guests left.

“So.” MJ looked at him. “About us liking each other.”

Peter shifted his weight. “What do you want to do about it?” he asked.

MJ studied him and he suddenly got a sense of how pretty her eyes were. To his surprise, she leaned over and kissed him lightly.

“If you tell anyone,” MJ warned. 

Peter nodded. “I won’t.”

MJ smiled and his brain turned to mush. “Great.” 

Peter inched closer until he was about half a foot away from her. They were about the same height. MJ was a little taller.

She reached for his shoulder and then someone knocked and came in.

Ms. Hill ‘hmm’ed and Peter and MJ sprang apart.

“Sorry!” they chorused.

Ms. Hill shook her head. “I’m just here to drop off your cash of the evening. Happy’s going to drive you two home since it’s late.” She handed them both a Manila envelope each. “You two have Stark cards now. They’re like back cards except Tony can add money to it as he pleases. Good night and down the hall.”

Peter and MJ grabbed their jackets and the enveloped and they went down to the garage where Happy sat grumpily in the car.

“Ready?” he sort of asked. Without waiting for confirmation, he turned on the ignition and they left.

[mountttmase]

Oh wow Loz, I actually don’t know where to start. That fic was the best ever and is it worrying that it took me 2.5 hours to read 😭 I had the “like magnets” p1 open on another tab as I was referring back to it every now and then.

Right let’s start with the feedback.

So they went 5 weeks without any contact, then they texted, called and stayed together all in one night. Then he even invited her to his flat the following day 🥺 Ino they said they’d move slowly but when you really love someone it’s hard to stay apart.

When I read that y/n opened the door to blonde curls my heart dropped and thought it was robin at first 😭forgot about the og wag woodie.

When they went on their little (extravagant) first date I was thinking whilst reading how they weren’t spotted walking down the street or on the balcony……… if only I knew what was to come 😬

The meeting with the family 😭 This was the first fic I read where the I really despised the Mounts (bar Masey of course!) he was the sweetest boyfriend with his constant reassurance and it was cute how he was determined to sit next to her and also make sure she was next to summer at lunch. He did anything to try and make her comfortable.

Random but the following day when Debbie came to visit I noticed that Mason showered twice that day. First in the morning when Debbie appeared and then at night before going to bed. It was really cute how Mason always wanted to make y/n feel good but it made me a bit sad how “he wasn’t feeling it sometimes” 😔 Does that mean poor masey wasn’t always enjoying sexy time? Also maybe this is me being a bit selfish, but I would have loved if she went all the way with masons blowie iygm 😏

At first I was a bit like “oh 😔” when he didn’t realize how uncomfortable y/n was at visiting the old house. I understand it tho, he was just so excited to show off and be back in his own house after being kicked out multiple times. But as soon as he realized he was an angel and I loved how he immediately scooped her up and brought her to another room. Also random but I love the way you included Summer in the fic ( they stayed in the room she stays in) because irl Mason really does adore her.

Overall Loz, there aren’t any words in the English language that sum up just how amazing this fic was. Never once did I get bored reading it and it felt like a series considering how much you managed to fit into one fic. I hope you never stop writing and can’t wait to read what else you have in store for us!!!

Oh anon this is just the sweetest message thank you 🩷

But yes she wanted to stay away but she couldn’t 🥺 he’s her twin flame

Mason likes to be extra clean 😏 and he really was the sweetest but I think of it more like he was so focused on her pleasure he sometimes forgot about his own

And yeah he was so excited about getting home he didn’t think how she’s gonna deal with it but he gets there in the end. They can never hide anything from each other 🥺

Thank you so much anon this was so lovely to read, messages like this make it all worth it 🥺 you’re the best 🩷

[hedgewitchnecromancer]

So I went in for an interview at Zales today. For context, I applied about two weeks ago on indeed, and they were the only company out of about a dozen I’ve applied to over the two weeks around then to show any interest in me. (One place let indeed give me a ‘sorry, they moved on without you’ email, and that’s all the feedback I’ve gotten). They had me fill out a second application on their personal company website (Signet, like every other major jewelry shop, apparently) and made me do 35 minutes of hypothetical situations on helping customers and asking if doing what is asked of me is enough for me (it’s enough for me, but that’s apparently the wrong answer).

They called me on Saturday (note: on the weekend) to schedule me for an interview. I picked Monday at 11 am. I live about half an hour from the mall, so I’m up two hours early to get ready and then drive there with extra time for traffic or anything else unexpected. I gel my hair, something I haven’t done since my junior prom (I’m in college now), iron my shirt, and head out.

I get to the mall about 10:35 and head inside at about 10:45. I find the store at 10:50, and tell the manager I’m here for an interview. He asks my name, I tell him, he notes it and goes to help some customers. I’m like “Oh, okay, that makes sense, this interview will probably be like fifteen minutes, that’s fine, I can wait.” So I wander around the store for ten to fifteen minutes because I’ve never actually been in there before because I can’t afford anything in there. The woman he was helping buys a ring worth over half my college loans for a year. Great. Then, finally he comes back to me.

“Hi, I’m the manager.”

We shake hands, I reintroduce myself.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I tried to call you earlier, but we actually canceled this interview. You don’t meet our company expectations, I’m sorry. You can reapply in six months.”

He shows me a paper where he notes my home phone number (I don’t give people my cell phone because it’s my personal phone and thus used only for personal reasons and I don’t want companies invading my personal life) and that it went to voicemail. “I didn’t want to call you on the weekend, but as soon as I got here I called you.” I smile and nod along because what else can I do, then leave to go back to my car.

I sit there for several minutes being pissed for several minutes, because what the fuck, why schedule me for an interview if you don’t want to interview me, send a lengthy complaint to my mother, and then drive off. At 11:10, my dad texts me that he just got a voicemail that they were canceling the interview from the house phone. (He’s at work, but the voicemails go to his cell phone somehow). I don’t see this, because I’m driving, and my 2013 Subaru doesn’t support voice texting, until I get home at about 11:30. At which point I get to tell him I know, the manager told me in person. But, the time of it also tells me that the reason I missed the call that my interview was canceled, actually, was because I was walking into the store for my fucking interview, and not because the manager called within the fifteen minute gap between when I was up and when my mother left for work at around 9 am, like I had assumed. It was also around then that I realized that I scheduled that interview on Saturday, aka on the weekend, so the manager’s excuse about not calling on the weekends was bullshit, because he already did it.

So yeah, thanks Zales, thanks Signet Jewelers, for wasting my time, effort, and gas, and for making me do all this stupid song and dance for you to not even do your half of it.

[sethredia]

straight up i think period-induced anxiety is the worst. like i have gad so im already anxious constantly but it normally settles at a not-great-but-manageable background hum if that makes sense? but when im on my period that shit goes from like a casual 4/10 to a fucking 14/10 sometimes.

ill be already a lil spooked about x or y thing on a normal day but when im on my period? i cant fucking sleep because im thinking about it and my chest is getting tight and i can feel my heart rate kick up and i roll over and get on my phone to distract myself and yet i know im distracting myself so the distraction doesnt really work and on and on until its three am and i pass tf out

its more manageable when im at work, right, because theres Stuff To Do at work. there a Job Tasks and then Job Distractions which are, in their own way, a different form of job task to me. is it the same fanfic i opened the night before to read but couldnt get through because my stupid, chemical deficient, hormone-addled brain wont let me focus on it? yes. is it different now because im at work and work is an entirely different vibe so now i can get through that story (and maybe a few others depending on length)? also yes!

anxiety example: my boss texted me last night, or i guess now that its gone past midnight would it be the night before last?, and said (frankly very ominously? like even without the anxiety disorder it would be spooky methinks) “call me before you go in tomorrow” and i was like “oh shit oh fuck what did i do i dont think i did anything i mean i had a weird hiccup with counting the drawer out at the end of the shift because i was doing 18.50 in my head instead if 17.50 so i had an overhang of a dollar and so maybe me messing with the dollar while i was trying to figure out what happened showed up and looked weird on the cameras and she saw it and she wants to talk to me about it???” and so that morning i did all my get-ready things and went back into my room, grabbed one of my stuffies for emotional support in the same way i do to make dentist appoints and shit, and bravely called my boss

and then. she said she just wanted to check on if it would be safe to have us open the store because of the snow that night. she lives in the next town over where it snowed a lot (7.5 inches. she stuck a ruler in it and sent me a picture later lol) and wanted to check on road conditions and just a general vibe on it f whether people would be out and about (it snowed in my town 3 inches. if im being generous. most of it melted off before noon. according to my boss, it continued to try and snow where she was on and off all day. what a wild difference like ten miles does to the weather!).

i got so so so scared over like a dollar worth of figured out before i left the building confusion that my boss wanting to just. be a good person. was like nowhere in my thought process.

related but only slightly: i got freaked tf out over one singular dollar and had that shit figured out before i went home for the day, whereas my stupid fucking coworker who is like technically my manager (i think if i had to put a title on her it would be like assistant manager but idk she doesnt have a title on our work schedule but shes above all the team lead kids but i also am that but i know technically shes my boss and she makes ~a dollar/hour more~ than i do so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) ALWAYS fucks up the drawers somehow. like our manager wants the end count on the drawer to be between $149.50-150.50. Why there is dont know but thats how it goes right? WRONG. every single time i come in and have to open a drawer after this lunatic has closed the night before, the drawers are over $150.50. it is not hard to stick another dollar into your bundle. drop the extra dollar. the drawer should not be at $150.75. drop the dollar. put it at $149.75 please god. this happened today on both drawers (small store; we only have two registers and only have shift overlaps on weekends and evenings so it works).

what Also happened today was that we have little paper slips that go into the drawers so you know what amount theyre supposed to be tallying out to when you count them next to know if everything is good or not. the paper said $150.65. i counted that fucker like six times, did the math on two different calculators three times to make sure it wasn’t me mis-hitting a decimal or something, and discovered it was actually at $155.65. five whole dollars. like im sure for a target thats not a big deal — still noticeable and youd absolutely get yelled at but like big picture and all — but for us thats a decent chunk! this woman simply does not double check anything she does regarding the cash drawers and it outrages me.

ALSO ALSO yesterday i counted out my drawer and it ended on like $150.30. within the boundaries. she put it in for the when the other closer came in. i left at 2:30, this other girl came in at 6:30, so somewhere in that four hours she recounted the drawer. we have a binder we write our numbers in for ~Accountability~. she wrote and initialed that it was at the $150.30 i counted it out to. this drawer, for the three or so hours its running that evening, handles no cash. written in the binder it has a big ol NO CASH written through in the Cash In and Deposited sections. the drawer closed at $150.75. where??? did that extra??? .45¢ come from??? and like what a weird amount too! thats not a two-quarter whoopsie, thats a whole mess of coins. four dimes and a nickel. a quarter and two dimes. other combinations im too tired to list. and like when i counted it that next morning it was at that $150.75. which is impressive, as the last time a NO CASH she wrote that had different starting and ending numbers, it turned out that there wasnt actually a difference, and that the original starting number was in fact still the amount in there. her ending number was also off by like .37¢ or something that time so like.

man. tell me you dont count out the registers properly without telling me you dont count them out properly.

anyway all of this is to say: periods suck and i hate them and i fucking wish i could sleep instead of worrying about what im currently worried about.

[aphvanity]

The other day I took my lovely friend on an excursion. It was a Sunday and the first day that week without work or school. 

So I organized a nice breakfast at a place we like. I had eggs and toast and she had Nutella crepes with ricotta. The next step of the excursion was to a local crystal shop that my sister and I enjoy. For my birthday a few weeks ago my father got me a 50 dollar certificate to the store, so I told her that we would each get a 23/24 dollars worth of stuff and the extra would count towards tax.

We eat, I drive us to the store. We have a lovely time! I buy a small bowl after saying “hey do you think I need a bowl. I know that I’d really enjoy having this bowl. but is it MORAL to get this bowl? I don’t really need it. It doesn't serve a purpose. I could put little crystals into it and put it on my bedside table next to the candle. but do I NEED the bowl? I do not. Should I get it anyway? I don’t NEED anything here, but I have 23 to 24 dollars to spend. Why not on a bowl?” at least 15 times. It was resolved when she told me “just go get the bowl” so I went and got the bowl. I appreciated it. The bowl is on my nightstand next to my candle right now.

We pay, we leave, and I remind her of the third step of the excursion. Near me there is a Book Barn. As in a 4 story house filled with used and vintage books at a discounted price. I love it there. The only downside is that they mix theology and philosophy together so you’re forced to sift through books about why Satan is found in troubled marriage to find one annotated copy of On Liberty. 

My friend does not like reading. This is why I decided to come to the Barn on our third stop; she should not start an excursion on a boring note. I knew that no matter how much she said she disliked the bookstore, she’d find something to amuse herself and would have just as much fun as anywhere else. The same way that I don’t particularly enjoy watching theatre if she’s not with me or in the production. The presence is what counts. 

I got a text from my manager asking if I could come in to help out, and I accepted. I could have NOT accepted and continued to stay with my friend because it was a really nice day and we hadn’t seen each other all week but I felt guilty! and I thought the day could still be good and fun even if it was a few hours shorter.

All that I have said leading up to this point is not particularly important and is more to set the stage for what is to come. I felt that the Event could not be completely understood without a full understanding of what had come before it.

We walk through the philosophy, history, sociology sections. We are passing through the biography section when I feel the blood trickle down my back. The air is freezing.

“Look! Its you!”

My friend has ruined me. The book in her hand damns us both. 

I think back to every flutter on the cheek. When did they turn from affection to betrayal? When did her hair coarse? When will the 30 pieces of silver fall into her hands?

I feel the breaths of senators around me. 

How could she liken me to this? What have I done. Am I so terrible? Must I look down to the ground and see something to raze? Something to own? Am I who I am not. Am I who I cannot. Who I will not stand for.

How must I repent to cleanse myself of this statement. This implication that I am one and the same. This marriage of character.

How do I unbind my wrist from that of the man on the cover?

Her smile is beautiful. She is a doe in a meadow with flowering crocuses. 

Her hands are still holding the book. The book! I have not fully beheld its cover. Appreciated its craftsmanship. Seen the mans name on the cover.

“Its you!” is it? No; it is not me. This moment is. Your eyes and mine and this book. 

I have not said its name. 

Every minute before this I was someone else. Every breath taken this day was free, and now it is chained. Every movement pure, now soiled. Every thought whole, now scattered. 

I am betrayed.

I look down. I hate.

“The Biography of Napoleon Bonaparte”.