#but that's not really an option at the grocery store unfortunately
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Hey y’all! Do you have any recommendations for walkers or rollators that are foldable and can be converted to wheelchairs? This question brought to you by today’s POTS flareup that has my heartrate jumping to the high 130s every time I stand up but I need to go grocery shopping. I sometimes need to sit down to let my heartrate come back down, but A. it tends to alarm people in the grocery store when I sit on the floor to catch my breath, B. it’s hard to get off the floor on bad blood pressure days, and C. if it converts to a wheelchair, when I hit the “okay no more walking” stage my family can wheel me along with them without having to have the “our faces are uncomfortably close to each other while you push me backwards through a store” experience of a rollator Heck, maybe one of those like shopping bags on wheels with a fold down seat? Being pulled behind my brother like luggage would be weird but would be a safer way to get me back out to the car than trying to get me both into and out of a shopping cart without falling
#the person behind the yarn#last time this happened (also at a grocery store) it turned out to be blood sugar related not blood pressure#but both can be 'okay you will stop walking RIGHT NOW'#which is less than ideal when you are. you know. at a grocery store getting groceries#because if you're clothes shopping or something it still sucks and it's kind of a jerk move to leave the cart behind full of stuff#but the stuff won't be ruined for being left behind in the middle of the store. they can still sell it#can't do that with a lot of groceries#oh hey if I had one of these I could probably start joining my dad on his walks!#there's lots of little trails he likes to go take walks on#but while they aren't that long are fully paved and start and end at the same parking lot#if my blood pressure crashes halfway through he can't get me back to the car without hurting himself#my dad could probably carry me but also has a chronic shoulder injury that means he really really shouldn't#so I just don't go on those walks with him#pre-pandemic when we went to zoos or places like that we'd walk for the morning then when I got tired we'd rent a wheelchair#but that's not really an option at the grocery store unfortunately#so maybe it's time I get one of my own
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a couple grocery stores in my area have started selling what they label as a 'watermelon tenderloin', which is basically an unbroken long-way cross section of the watermelon, about an inch thick, with the rind cut off around the edges. they can be like $8 each and are sold in very limited quantities in single serve boxes and there are so many parts to this that i find really funny but most of all im obsessed with the idea that theres different prime cuts to a watermelon in the same way theres different prime cuts to a cow or something, and the watermelon tenderloin option gives you the best of the possible watermelon parts, of which there are famously only two. like it reminds me of those pics of people crouching with a gun and their dog with their garden vegetable hauls lined up in front of them parodying hunters like they shot the zucchini and i so badly wish i could get behind it as a trend but for $8 while a full watermelon is like $5-6 i unfortunately cannot
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Omg holiday fics… I need a Steve and reader under the mistletoe fic (bonus points if like enemies/rivals/frenemies to lovers vibe??) like I need air to breathe
Ahh I missed him! Thanks for requesting <3
cw: alcohol
Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words
It’s virtually the same as every party you went to in high school, save for the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. Try as Scott’s girlfriend might, she cannot, in your opinion, successfully call this a Christmas party.
She has made a valiant effort, though. There’s an option of spiked eggnog sitting on the counter beside the cooler of beers, tinsel glitters around the railing of the stairway, and a grocery store cheese plate really adds a bit of class to the center of the coffee table. Unfortunately, the class is sort of nullified by all the bro-ey yelling coming from the beer pong tournament Scott’s holding in the basement.
“That’s McCreedy,��� Steve tells you as a particularly loud whoop comes from downstairs.
You reach for a piece of swiss, suppressing your smile. “You sound confident.”
“It’s him. Wait a sec, he’s gonna do his signature yell.” He holds up a hand, ear cocked in anticipation.
A moment later, a testosterone-fuelled, “Whoo! That’s what I’m talking about,” sounds from the basement.
You hastily swallow your cheese, covering your mouth to hide your laugh. Steve looks very pleased with himself.
“Every time he scored a basket for four years,” he explains.
“Oh my god.” Your laughter is difficult to quell when Steve looks so delighted to have brought it about. You think, not for the first time tonight, that you never expected to be having this good a time with Steve Harrington. “Are we going to be subjected to that all night?”
Steve grimaces. “Depends. He’s not very good, but if he’s playing someone who also sucks…”
“Is this the part where you tell me that if you were in there he’d be losing?” You’re a bit surprised at the flirtation in your own tone, but you don’t backtrack.
“No.” He smiles. “That would be arrogant and braggy.”
“Not to mention predictable,” you tack on.
“Right. I’ve been told, uh, that’s not really the best way to get nice girls to like me.”
You pick up your cup, hiding a smile behind the rim as you take a sip. You’ll have to send a fruit basket to whoever taught him that lesson. The Steve Harrington you knew in high school was absolutely that conceited. He knew he was handsome and charming, and the fact that he knew was enough for you to stay away. He never fell short on girls who wanted him for those things anyway. You didn’t think of Steve much then, only with vague annoyance when he wrapped your teachers around his finger or made your friends ditch you on a Friday night so they could go to one of his basketball games, and then you’d graduated and happily never thought of him again. Until tonight, when you’d shown up for a friend-of-a-friend’s so-called Christmas party and here he was.
This Steve Harrington seems different from the one you knew. His signature hairstyle has changed, for one thing. It’s grown out a bit, less coiffed, more fluffy. A couple of strands fall into his eyes which he keeps combing back in a way that you hate to find endearing but unfortunately do. He seems to walk more than he saunters, now, too. His mouth doesn’t hold so much smugness in its tilt. This Steve is (seemingly) more interested in talking to you than trying to get you to play seven minutes in heaven or recounting his basketball stats or going to play beer pong with his friends who he claims aren’t his friends anymore. He looks you in the eyes like he’s interested in what you have to say and smiles when you smile.
“I’m going to go get a refill.” You stand with your cup. “Want anything?”
“Oh, yeah.” Steve picks up his beer, long since empty. “I’ll come with you.”
For all the self-respect that had kept you immune to him throughout high school, it’s hard not to feel flattered by Steve’s attention tonight. Your face heats as he trails you into the kitchen, not even a full step behind as you go inside.
“Ooooh!”
You stop. It’s Sasha, Scott’s girlfriend and the party’s true host, who’s oohed at you, but everyone in the kitchen has turned to look.
“What?” you ask.
Nancy Wheeler is refilling the punch bowl of eggnog with another girl you almost recognize. She gives you a look that borders on sympathetic. “You’re standing under the mistletoe,” she tells you.
You and Steve look up at the same time. Taped to the ceiling above the entryway, like a trap hunters lay in the woods, is a small sprig of green tied with red ribbon.
You look at Steve. He’s already looking at you.
“I…”
“No.” Steve’s tone could nearly be called scoffing. “No way. That’s stupid, anyone who walks in is gonna be under it.”
“Only people who walk in together,” corrects Sasha. It’s clear she’s been waiting for her trap to spring all night.
Steve shakes his head. “It’s stupid,” he says again. “Right, Robs?”
He looks to the girl sitting on the counter by Nancy—Robin, you remember her now, she was a couple years below you in school—seemingly for support.
“Uhh, right,” Robin fumbles. Nancy gives her an amused look. “It’s a stupid tradition, which, by the way, we only do because some old Greek guys thought it would promote fertility, so. It’s sexist, or something.”
Steve nods, satisfied.
“Still,” says Nancy, a smile playing on the ends of her lips, “it is a tradition.”
With Nancy’s hand gracing hers, Robin seems to have no rebuttal for that.
“It’s a bullshit tradition.” Steve reaches into the cooler, not looking at what drinks he grabs before ushering you back out of the kitchen. “Come on.”
You feel like you have whiplash going back to the couch. Steve’s gotten you both sodas, condensation still dripping off the one he presses into your hand. The tab cracks and hisses as he pops his open.
“Sorry about that.” He still seems piqued. “I didn’t know we were gonna get ambushed like that.”
“It’s okay. How could you know?” you reply airily. You crack open your own can, not thinking to check what it is until it hits your tongue. Ginger ale, fizzy and light. “I didn’t know that about the origin of mistletoe.”
“Yeah.” Steve chuckles drily. “Me neither.”
“Robin seems really smart.”
“I’m, like, eighty percent sure she made that up on the spot. But yeah, she’s smart.”
“Well, I’m just glad we didn’t perpetuate a sexist tradition.”
You say it lightly, but there’s an odd weight in your chest. You are glad that you didn’t kiss in the kitchen in front of everyone, that Steve hadn’t pressured you like everyone else, but part of you wishes he’d been a little less adamant in his refusal. It’s silly, you know. You don’t think you’d actually want to kiss anyone under those circumstances, so public and contrived, but still. It stings just a little.
“Do you and Robin hang out a lot?” you ask, trying perhaps a bit too hard to sound casual and disinterested.
“Yeah.” Steve nods, those couple of strands falling out of line again and into his eyes. “But, you know, we’re just friends. We work together.”
You raise your eyebrows, disbelieving.
“Really,” he laughs. “She’s—it’s not like that. Super not like that.”
“Okay,” you say, believing him. But you’re not done teasing him yet, you decide. “You hang out with a lot of high schoolers, Harrington?”
Steve guffaws. “Hey, we’re just friends! And Robin’s only a couple of years behind us.”
You pause, sensing there’s more. “But…” you prompt.
Steve huffs a laugh, pushing his hair out of his face. “It’s not weird, okay?”
“Okay.” You settle in. “Tell me.”
He interrupts himself repeatedly to insist again that it’s not weird, and you don’t doubt him, the look that comes over his face when he talks about the kids fond and brotherly. He gives them free rentals from the video store he works at with Robin, helps them navigate high school drama and crushes, and drives them places when their parents won’t. When you call him a pro bono babysitter, Steve laughs and says, That’s exactly what it is.
It’s sweet to see how much he cares about these kids, to hear him talk about them like they’re pests he has to wrangle and put up with while smiling like he wouldn’t have it any other way. The Steve you knew in high school didn’t seem to care about much of anyone apart from himself. This Steve is overflowing with sincerity, kinder and braver and more genuinely funny than you remember him. When he offers you a ride home, you accept.
You don’t bother zipping your coat for the walk to the car. There’s salt on the porch, but still you walk carefully, wary of ice.
“Hey,” Steve says before you can go down the steps.
You glance back at him, and he’s looking up.
“Look.”
You tilt your head back too. Hung on a string above the entrance to the porch, tied in a red ribbon just like the one in the kitchen, is a sprig of mistletoe.
“Two?” You laugh, turning towards Steve. “Doesn’t that seem like—”
His lips capture yours.
The first press is greedy, overeager, but after a second of you standing still in surprise he starts to back away. His lips leave an impression of warmth on yours. They part on an apology.
You shake your head, reaching for him. “Wait.”
The material of his jacket is slippery underneath your fingers, and his lips find yours with the same warmth they left with. Steve kisses confidently, like you knew he would, but also with a curiosity you didn’t expect. His lips close and part over yours like he’s asking, entreating, trying to draw something out. You don’t know that you have the answer, but you kiss his cupid’s bow in consolation. He brings his hands to the curve of your back, squeezing before letting go.
Your breath puffs in the cold air. “I thought…I thought it was a bullshit tradition.”
“It’s only bullshit when it’s in a room full of people,” he says.
You laugh, again surprised at how easily he coaxes it out of you but not as much as you’d been at the beginning of the night. You think Steve’s going to be making you laugh a lot now.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x self insert#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington scenario#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington one shot#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fandom#stranger things x reader
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A Favor from the Devil |Chapter Two|
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Mom!Reader Word Count: 3.4k [Series Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+; Domestic abuse, depictions/mentions of sexual assault, struggles with past trauma, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (possibly more warnings to come)
a/n: Throwing the second chapter at y'all because I can and I feel like y'all needed some Matt. You get his POV in this chapter, too! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Tag list: @kee-0-kee @dethspllz @a-half-empty-g1rl @senjoritanana @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @danzer8705 @scriptedmoon @flowher @wanda-maxamommy @guccicloudz
Making your way through the crowded streets of Hell’s Kitchen, you guided Evelyn back towards your apartment. Both of her small hands clung tight to yours as she walked in silence beside you. Every time someone stepped a little too near to the pair of you, you felt her draw herself in closer to your legs, her fingers squeezing tighter around yours. In your opposite hand you carried a grocery bag that held a single container of vanilla moose track ice cream for tonight–Evie’s favorite flavor. Unfortunately purchasing the ice cream meant you’d had less money to spend on groceries for next week, but you’d happily eat another cheap packet of ramen for dinner and skip lunches at work if the frozen treat could manage to put a smile on her face this evening.
Evie had been silent ever since you’d picked her up after work from her first day of preschool. She hadn’t said a single word, not even when you’d taken her to pick out the ice cream. All she’d done was stand in front of the row of freezers at the store and quietly point to the flavor she’d wanted. You’d tried asking her how her day had gone, what she’d done in class, or if she’d made any friends, but instead of a response you’d only seen her lips draw into a thin line.
So you’d done what you usually did when Evelyn drew into herself and stopped talking–you talked about your day. Which in all honesty had been horrible because the job you’d managed to acquire was a tedious desk job in which you sat in the tiny confines of a cubicle staring at a computer screen for hours on end. Your boss wasn't great, either. He was always in a bad mood, often making rude comments to you if he wasn't finding a reason to criticize your work. Dealing with his attitude daily for a salary that you could barely survive on usually soured your mood the moment you stepped into the building, but at least your coworker, Amira, made the days bearable. You’d been there for barely two months, but she’d taken one look at you and seen your past written on your face. After that, you’d grown comfortable around her, slowly opening up about your personal life–but not quite all of it.
But of course, you didn’t tell Evie about the bleak and depressing parts of your days at work. You’d always done your best to make it sound like you enjoyed your time there. And even though you didn’t, you were still grateful that you'd found a way to somewhat financially support the two of you.
“Look at that!” you said, gesturing a hand towards your apartment building with the one not currently being crushed in both of Evie’s. “We’re home already!”
Evie remained silent, not expressing a single emotion as to whether she was excited to be back or not. Wordlessly she followed you through the building’s main doors and into the lobby. Once the doors had shut behind you, the sound of the city just a little quieter now that you were off the streets, she seemed to relax. No longer on the crowded sidewalk, Evie’s hands somewhat loosened their grip on yours as you led her over towards the elevators.
You tried to think of a way that you could cheer her up tonight, hoping to pull her out of her nonverbal phase before it really took hold, but considering your limited funds, you didn’t have many options. The best you could think of was a movie night, though all you had to watch movies on was the cheap cell phone you'd purchased once you'd gotten Evie and yourself out of your previous situation.
As you pushed the call button for the elevator and waited for it to appear, you did your best to fight back the tears welling in your eyes. If only you could afford to purchase more toys for her to play with. A television and a couch for the pair of you to cozy up on at night. Anything . But all you had was each other.
The familiar weight of your guilt that permanently sat heavy like a stone in your stomach reared its head. Once more you felt like a shitty mother, failing to provide all the things you wished you could for your child. But yet you refused to break down–at least, not here in front of Evie. You'd wait for the opportunity later tonight when you were certain she was asleep. Right now your priority was cheering her up and turning her day around, not wallowing in your own feelings.
She was the priority, not you.
The elevator doors opened and you forced a smile onto your face, blinking hard a couple of times. You gently pulled Evie along with you, stepping onto the elevator before pushing the button for the sixth floor.
“How about we reheat last night’s pizza and watch a movie on my phone tonight, cricket?” you asked, glancing down at your daughter as the elevator doors closed. “We can cuddle in your sleeping bag and pretend we’re camping. And then we can eat ice cream out of the container for dessert,” you suggested, knowing full well that you didn’t have any bowls in the kitchen yet. “Doesn’t that sound fun?”
Evie’s attention shifted towards you, her expression remaining neutral and impossible to read. She didn’t respond and her continued silence caused the smile on your face to become strained as you fought to keep it there. Your eyes traveled to the numbers above the elevator doors, watching as they changed from a five to a six. At least you’d be back in your apartment soon.
“What’s mute?”
The sound of Evie’s quiet, small voice startled you. As the doors of the elevator slowly rolled open with a ding , you glanced down at your daughter beside you. She was staring up at you with that still hard to read expression on her face.
“Mute?” you asked, stepping out of the elevator with her. “What do you mean, cricket? Where’d you hear that?”
“School,” she answered.
A frown settled onto your lips. Had the children there been teasing her? Or worse–the teachers?
“It just means that you–”
You’d been about to explain the meaning of the word until you’d noticed a man at the far end of the hallway. The unexpected sight of him caused you to instantly grow quiet even though he was just standing outside of the apartment directly across the hall from yours seemingly attempting to unlock his front door.
Your pace slowed as you observed him, your brain immediately screaming threat at the sight of him. Beneath that tight blue dress shirt he wore you could see that he was broad and muscular, the material pulled taut in various places along his torso. With the way his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, they revealed his thick forearms which hinted at even thicker biceps. Even his thighs filled out the dark slacks he wore, suggesting a strength about him that you couldn’t deny.
He looked intimidating and dangerous.
You then noticed the cane in his left hand and the dark glasses currently sitting on his nose despite the fact that he wasn’t outside. Watching how he used his hands as he attempted to guide his key into the lock, you quickly pieced things together. Blind, you assumed. He was blind. But his disability didn't matter; he still looked like he could throw a solid punch and that alone had you on edge in his presence.
Your mouth went dry as you stepped ahead of Evie, somewhat placing your body in front of hers as you both continued down the hallway. Of course you knew this man was most likely going to ignore you both even if he somehow noticed you. He was probably just getting home from work, too. More than likely he just wanted to eat dinner and relax like everyone else in the city. And the likelihood of him being a violent individual seemed slim–because logically you knew that not every man was–but for some reason something about him had put you on alert.
As you neared closer, your heart pounding heavily as the hair prickled along the back of your neck, you caught the way his hands stopped what they were doing. Briefly your feet faltered when you saw his head turn just a fraction over his shoulder in your direction as if he'd somehow picked up on the fact that he wasn't alone in the hallway.
In that moment, you didn't remotely care if you were being rude or not, you practically dragged Evie the rest of the way towards your door in silence. Already having pulled your apartment key out of your pocket before you'd reached it, you unlocked the door swiftly before ushering your daughter inside. In a panicked rush, you darted after her before shutting and locking the door behind you without a backwards glance at the man.
Standing in front of the door for a moment, you paused to release the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. Rude or not, you weren't going to offer him help or introduce yourself. Something about him had triggered your instincts to run and that had been reason enough to avoid him.
You felt a tug at your hand and you snapped out of your thoughts, your eyes dropping down towards your daughter. Evie was staring up at you with wide, worried eyes.
“You okay, mama?” she asked.
Nodding in response, you blew out a rough breath and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze in return. “Yeah, cricket,” you answered, still feeling a little on edge. “Yeah, I'm good.” Clearing your throat, you held up the bag with the ice cream in it and tried to smile back at her. “Maybe I should put this in the freezer before it melts on us after that long walk in the heat, huh?”
Evie gave you a single nod in response before she released your hand.
Turning towards the kitchen, you made your way over to the fridge and opened the freezer. You frowned at the sole bag of dinosaur chicken nuggets sitting on a shelf by itself. They'd thankfully been on sale the other day–another of Evie’s favorites–but that was all you currently had in the freezer at the moment.
“What movie do you want to watch tonight?” you asked Evie, placing the ice cream on a shelf.
“Little Mermaid,” she answered softly.
It wasn't a stretch for you to understand why that movie was often her favorite choice lately.
“Alright, cricket,” you said, closing the freezer door to open the door to the fridge next. “Why don't you get cozy in some pajamas and I'll start reheating the pizza in the oven? You and Barnabas can get settled in the sleeping bag and I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
You weren’t surprised when Evie didn't respond, but the soft padding of her feet through the apartment and to her bedroom behind you was answer enough.
Launching himself up onto the platform of the fire escape, Matt began his usual ascent up the neighboring building beside his own apartment building. As he scaled his way upwards, heading towards the roof now that his night was over, Matt's mind was busy working over the information that he'd uncovered as Daredevil tonight. Information he hoped to find ways to use as Matt Murdock this week with Foggy and Karen.
But as he climbed his way up fire escape after fire escape, he couldn't help but feel the exhaustion from the night settling into his body. He'd been running himself ragged all week trying to juggle both halves of his life and tonight he was admittedly feeling the repercussions of it. He needed a good night's sleep, but judging by the sounds of the city, it was probably somewhere around two or three in the morning. If he was lucky, he'd manage to get three or four hours before dragging his tired and battered body back out of bed to get to work.
Finally reaching the topmost fire escape, Matt grabbed ahold of his usual footholds on the side of the building and began pulling himself the rest of the way onto the roof. He let out a soft groan when he lifted himself up and over the railing and onto the rooftop. Briefly collapsing onto his knees, he took a minute to catch his breath. It was hot out this evening and his suit wasn't making him any less warm.
After his short break, Matt forced himself back up and onto his feet before jogging across the top of the building towards his own. He was ready to peel off his sweaty suit and be home for the evening, already looking forward to stepping into his shower and washing off his long day.
With practiced ease he flung himself between the gaps of both buildings and landed with a sharp jolt. He grit his teeth at the impact, taking a moment to recover before rising to his feet and striding over to the roof access door which led back to his place. But he managed to take all of two steps before his tired ears caught something he hadn't expected.
Crying. Soft, muffled sobs coming from just below where he stood.
Matt hesitated, his eyes narrowing behind his mask as he tried to figure out who would’ve been awake and crying at this hour. The only other people who lived on the sixth floor with him were the long since widowed Mrs. Henderson–who definitely didn't spend her evenings crying–and his new neighbors that had moved in just last night.
The strange and short encounter he'd had with you earlier this evening resurfaced in Matt's mind. He'd been coming home from the office and was busy thinking about what he was hoping to accomplish in the city this evening as Daredevil, barely paying attention to much else. But somehow the immediate and overpowering scent of absolute fear he'd been slammed with had managed to break through his distracted thoughts. He'd felt that overwhelming fear from both you and the young girl which he'd assumed was your daughter from the moment you'd left the elevator and noticed him.
The acrid scent of it had instantly given Matt pause. At first he'd wondered if you both had somehow recognized him as Daredevil. But he'd quickly realized that seemed a stupid and impossible thought the moment he'd had it. But why else would you both become so quiet and fearful of him when he was just unlocking his apartment door? The feeling of your combined emotions had deeply unsettled him. No one had ever reacted to him like that before, certainly not as Matthew Murdock, the friendly, blind lawyer.
Matt had considered trying to turn around and introduce himself to you both, hoping that maybe he would appear far less terrifying to you if he’d flashed a charming smile and given you his name, but you'd grabbed your daughter and darted inside your apartment so fast that Matt hadn't had the opportunity.
It had been…odd. You both had been odd. And admittedly your reaction to him had piqued his curiosity.
Turning around on the rooftop, Matt casually strode away from the door that led to his apartment and over towards the side of the building near your fire escape instead. Curiosity had won out over a shower and sleep for now. He wanted to make sense of that unsettling experience he'd had with you in the hallway. He hadn't liked scaring you both, feeling like he was some sort of dangerous monster.
Tossing himself over the side of the building, he landed softly onto the fire escape below. He stayed low in a crouch, throwing his senses out into your apartment to make sure he hadn't been seen when he’d dropped down. If you'd reacted the way you had earlier to just Matt Murdock, he could only imagine the reaction Daredevil would receive standing on your fire escape in the middle of the night.
A minute passed and when no one shrieked or otherwise alerted Matt to having been noticed, he slowly rose to his full height. As he stood there, he could still hear the quiet, muffled crying that he'd caught on the roof continuing from inside. Paying close attention to it, it sounded like the sound was coming from just outside of the door of the bedroom who’s window he was standing at.
Head tilting curiously to the side, he began examining your apartment as best as he could from the outside. And what he found easily surprised him.
Nothing. There was hardly anything in your apartment at all. He didn’t hear the usual buzz of electronics that he often did–like televisions or computers or even toasters. Focusing even closer, it sounded like the air from the air conditioning unit blowing in your apartment was moving with hardly any interruptions. As if you didn’t even have furniture. And judging from the placement of the crying and the sound of what seemed like your daughter’s even breaths as she slept, both of you appeared to be quite low on the ground. Like you were both lying on the floor instead of on beds.
Matt’s head tilted further to the side, a frown pulling his lips downwards beneath his mask. How strange. Had the pair of you not finished fully moving in yet? Or…did you really not have any furniture?
Something stirred in Matt’s chest as another one of your sobs hit his ears. There was something going on here, there had to be. People didn’t usually react that way to strangers without cause–he would know because he’d never experienced that level of fear from someone outside of his Daredevil suit before. And there was the fact that you were laying on the floor in front of your daughter’s bedroom instead of laying in the second bedroom that he knew was in the apartment. There was only one reason he could imagine a mother doing that–you were protecting your daughter.
But why? And from who?
Matt reached a gloved hand up and gently rested it onto the glass of the window carefully, trying to focus his senses even more closely inside. He found himself desperately wanting answers about his new neighbors, but just as he leaned forward and turned his head to listen better, he heard a rustling inside the room–distinctly that of a sleeping bag. Terrified of being caught, Matt pushed himself roughly away from the window before beginning to quickly pull himself back up onto the roof.
“Mama?”
Your daughter had definitely woken, Matt realized. He could hear her pulse steadily increasing now that she was awake. There were only a few seconds that passed before he heard a frantic tossing of a blanket onto the floor before the bedroom door had flung open.
“What’s wrong, Evie? Are you okay? Did you have another bad dream?”
There was a faint shift of air that Matt caught–like your daughter shaking her head–before he heard the scared, small voice again.
“Someone’s here.”
Your body immediately went straight into fight or flight and Matt curiously noted the intensity of it.
“Where, cricket?”
“Outside.”
Matt winced, running a gloved hand over his mouth as he stood there on the roof. So your daughter had noticed something. He needed to be more careful. Hopefully she hadn't seen his very recognizable costume.
“No one’s there, Evie,” came your reassuring voice, though Matt could hear that your body was still panicked. “You’re safe, I promise. Okay? We’re both safe here.”
Shaking his head, he pulled his senses away from your apartment. That was enough eavesdropping on your place for the night. He had a few ideas about what might’ve been going on with you both now, a sick feeling bubbling in his gut at all of the dark scenarios racing through his mind. He hoped he wasn’t right about any of them, but if he was, he’d now become personally determined to make sure you both remained safe here. Because even though he didn’t actually know either of you, you were a part of Hell's Kitchen–the city he loved deeply. His city. And that was more than enough reason for Matt to find himself suddenly caring about the both of you.
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Writing idea, a bed wetter goes on a road trip with a group of friends. Unfortunately, they fall asleep during the road trip and have an accident. Maybe the group of friends stop at a convenience. Store for pull-ups for that friend.
Tia was totally completely sure she would make it through this road trip dry. It was one day, just going to the beach and back, she wouldn’t fall asleep and therefore she would stay totally dry. She repeated this to herself as she saw her best friend Bev’s car pull up, already carrying the two other girls making up the friend group. Phoebe was in the passenger seat and Charlie was in the backseat, waving and grinning. This was going to be a good day.
The beach was amazing. The sun warmed sand squished around Tia’s toes as she sprinted towards the water with her friends. Once they reached the freezing water however they retreated to set up an umbrella and folding chairs. They shared snacks and lemonade and chatted until the sun started to set.
Back in the car the conversation continued, Bev talked about her new promotion and the funny things people said behind her rude new managers back. Charlie chimed in occasionally with stories about her two coworkers’ beef with each other while Phoebe sang along to the music she had playing. Calm and still warm from the sun, Tia drifted off into sleep.
When she awoke it was to Charlie’s gentle but worried shakes. “Wake up Tia, wake up”.
She shot awake suddenly aware of the growing damp patch at her crotch. She shoved her hand down, stemming the leak, but looking down there was no hiding she’d peed her pants a little. She whipped her head over to where Charlie was looking at her, concern and something else written on their face.
Phoebe and Bev were both still looking ahead, oblivious to Tia’s accident. “Um, could you pull over, I want to get something at the store up ahead”, Charlie said, handing their sweater to Tia while smiling at Bev like normal. Tia whispered a “thank you” to Charlie as they pulled up to the store before jumping out of the car with Charlie and shuffling quickly into the store. She made a beeline for the bathrooms and had gotten into a stall and locked it before she started leaking again. She dashed for the toilet and made it just in time to pull down her leggings, but not soon enough to stop her drenching her panties as she gushed uncontrollably, releasing what felt like gallons. She sat there panting for a moment, so focused on her release she hadn’t heard someone else enter the bathroom.
She jolted at the knock on the stall door, and her stomach sank as she realised Charlie was gonna see she leaked even more in her pants. Before she could even begin panicking over wetting her pants she was mortified again when Charlie in the gentlest tone explained they had bought her a bag of pull-ups so she didn’t have to worry, they were still 2 hours from home and she had drunk her fair share of lemonade and the worst that would happen is she wore a pullup she didn’t need.
Stunned into silence and apparently also compliance she watched as her hands accepted the bag of pull-ups slid under on the door of her stall. Holding the bag, mind reeling she heard Charlie’s footsteps fade as they left the bathroom, leaving Tia alone to clean herself. She stared down at the pull-ups wondering which option was more mortifying, deciding in the end that on the slim chance she somehow fell asleep again after this debacle she would simply not allow herself to pee her pants again. Thankfully Charlie had also left grocery bag, so she returned to the car, Charlie’s sweater obscuring her damp patch on her pants and slightly padded form.
As Bev pulled back onto the road Tia checked her phone to see a text from Charlie.
“don’t feel bad, it’s really not a big deal, and this can stay between us ;)”
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TEMPLAR BOAR WITH CAMELINE SAUCE (14th c.)
This past Thursday, the Corpus Christi public holiday in my part of Germany, known here as Fronleichnam, gave me a little extra time to make another Tasting History dish: Templar Boar with Cameline Sauce. The diet, eating habits, and table manners of the Templars were governed by strict rules, including only eating meat three times a week (two meat meals on Sundays). This dish was one of those they would have eaten for one of their meat meals during the 14th century. The spices present in the sauce would have been accessible to them during the crusades, but Cameline Sauce did become a popular dish in much of medieval Europe eventually. This dish is based on two 14th century primary sources: Le Viandier de Taillevent by Guillaume Tirel and Le Ménagier de Paris, a treatise written by an older man (as yet unnamed) to teach his 15-year-old bride how to run his household and please him, in every way (...yikes). The sauce, Cameline, is named as such due to the rich brown colour, which looks like the wool of a camel, also known as cameline. I chose to make this recipe next because I haven't made boar before, and the rich, silky, brown colour of the sauce made it look really tasty. See Max’s video on how to make it here or see the ingredients and process at the end of this post, sourced from his website.
My experience making it:
I made a couple changes to the modern recipe below. I used boar goulash pieces instead of tenderloin, because it was the only form of boar I could find at my grocery store. The white wine I used (and drank with dinner) was a dry Riesling from the Mosel Valley in Germany. The red wine was a Bordeaux Merlot. I used saffron powder instead of threads, and I did opt to add the optional tablespoon of red wine vinegar. the white bread I used was a classic French baguette.
I also made a couple changes to the method. Because I used French baguette, which has quite small slices, I hollowed out about half the baguette (since baguettes are mostly crust). I also simmered the sauce for much longer than Max says to, because it wasn't quite the thickness I was looking for. Otherwise, I followed Max's recipe exactly, probably to the detriment of my boar. Because I had used goulash pieces instead of tenderloin, I probably should have adjusted how I cooked the boar to accommodate these smaller pieces. Unfortunately, I didn't, and as a result, I was left with very chewy, dry boar. Basically, the sauce was the saving grace of the boar! I served the boar and Cameline sauce with some green peas, garlic bread, and a glass of the dry Riesling wine.
My experience tasting it:
I already knew I had ruined the texture of the boar, but I hoped that the sauce would help. I warned my husband. Luckily, the Cameline sauce did a lot of heavy-lifting to bring some moisture back to the board. The sauce turned out wonderfully - a beautiful, silky brown. Flavour-wise, it reminded me of a jus, but more heavily-spiced. I was worried the Cameline sauce would end up tasting sweet due to the brown sugar and several spices that are more often used in baking, but in fact, the spices were well balanced by the taste of the wine and vinegar. The sauce also went really nicely with the peas, and I imagine would also have tasted good with potatoes or other red meats. My husband and I dipped the garlic bread in it as well, which was really tasty. It went alright with the dry boar, but I would like to use the sauce with another, more tenderly-cooked meat. We had leftover Cameline sauce, so we will probably try that again tonight. If you end up making it, if you liked it, or if you changed anything from the original recipe, do let me know!
Links to harder-to-find ingredients:
Saffron
Templar Boar with Cameline Sauce original recipes (14th c.)
Sourced from Le Viandier de Taillevent by Guillaume Tirel and Le Ménagier de Paris respectively.
“Sanglier: Fresh Wild Boar Venison. Cooked in wine and water and boiled again; eaten with Cameline Sauce.”
— Le Viandier de Taillevent, 14th century
“Cameline. Note that in Tournai, to make cameline they grind ginger, cinnamon, saffron, and half a nutmeg, moistened with wine then taken out of the mortar. Then grind in a mortar untoasted white breadcrumbs that have been soaked in cold water, moisten with wine and strain. Then boil everything and finish with brown sugar, and that makes winter cameline. In the summer, they do the same but it is not boiled at all. ”
— Le Ménagier de Paris, 14th century
Modern Recipe
Based on Le Viandier de Taillevent by Guillaume Tirel, Le Ménagier de Paris, and Max Miller’s version in his Tasting History video.
Ingredients:
Boar tenderloin
Olive oil for searing
Equal parts wine and water for boiling
1 thick slice of white artisanal bread without crust
1 ¼ cups white wine
¼ cup red wine
1 tsp ginger
2 tsp cinnamon
½ tsp nutmeg
Pinch of saffron threads
2 tbsp brown sugar
Pinch of salt
1 tbsp red wine vinegar (optional)
Method:
De-crust the bread and break it into small pieces. Soak the bread in water for a few hours, then pour in the red wine for the sauce.
Heat olive oil in a pot then sear the boar on all sides.
Remove it from the pot and boil equal parts wine and water, then add the boar back in and boil, covered, for 10-15 minutes or until fully cooked. Then let it rest.
To make the sauce, mix the spices and white wine. Strain the bread/wine mixture from earlier into a saucepan, then press the bread through the strainer.
Add the spiced wine mixture and bring to a simmer. Let simmer for 15 minutes, or until half reduced, then add the sugar and salt, and if you want, a tablespoon of red wine vinegar. Simmer until thickened.
Slice the boar and pour the sauce over it. Optionally, serve with roasted chestnuts and wine.
#14th century#max miller#tasting history#cooking#tasting history with max miller#keepers#medieval meals#boar#french recipes#europe#Templar#crusades#Cameline Sauce#Sauces#meat#Le Viandier de Taillevent#Le Menagier de Paris#Guillaume Tirel#Europe#France
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I've Got You
Synopsis
Eddie helps reader through a bad trip after she's pressured by her boyfriend to take drugs.
What To Expect/Warnings
This is a rather heavy topic and potentially triggering to some so please proceed with caution. ♡
This fic takes place in 87 and has no mention of the plot from Season 4, apart from Eddie graduating. Also was not expecting it to be this long lmfao, woops. No use of y/n, toxic relationship, drug use, peer pressuring, bad drug trip, anxiety, hurt/comfort, confrontation between Eddie and reader's bf, angst, mutual pining, emotional cheating if you squint??, descriptions of drug side effects, alcohol consumption.
Let me know if i missed anything.
(proofread in a very sleepy state lol, dont mind potential spelling mistakes of repetitive words/phrasings)
Once again, i can't stress this enough, please do not read this fic if any of the above mentioned topics are triggering to you. ♡
You can read pt. 2 here!
"This year's different. This year, is my year. I can feel it... '86 baby!"
And that, it was.
Things finally seemed to be taking a turn for the better in Eddie's life. That year, he geared down and put all of his time and focus into his school work determined not to spend one more second in what was, in his opinion, the most dreadful place in town; Hawkins High. Graduation day finally came and as promised to his fellow Hellfire Club members, who all attended the ceremony, he gave the performance of a lifetime on that stage. 'They can't get me in trouble anymore.' he thought as he shredded an air guitar whilst sprinting towards the faculty, hollering as he did so. Once he was face to face with his long time nemesis, Principal Higgins, all of the cleverly thought out disses he had come up with over the last year seemed to fade away. He blamed it on nerves, but deep down he knew that his distain was overshadowed by an immense sense of joy and relief. To everyone's surprise, Eddie calmly grabbed his diploma with a mischievous smile and exited the auditorium gracefully.
'Finally, a new chapter can begin.'
_
After some much needed time off in the summer allowed him to contemplate his next move in life, Eddie started applying for jobs around Hawkins. His preferred establishments such as the library and record store were, unfortunately, not hiring. Despite the tried and true efforts of his friends at Family Video, they too, were not in need of new employees. He contemplated sticking to his main source of income, but knew that the drug market in Hawkins was not a sustainable nor stable option. Truth be told, he only started dealing as a way of making extra cash whilst still in school. He grew tired of it pretty quickly, but promised himself that the second he would graduate, he would ditch this unconventional side hustle.
His new objective was finding work that would allow him to make enough money to find a place of his own. As much as he loved Wayne and was forever grateful to his uncle for taking him in, he couldn't stand to see him spend one more night on the dreadful pull out mattress.
After weeks of grueling efforts on Eddie's behalf, Wayne came home with some good news one Saturday afternoon. With a hiring flyer and about 8 bags of groceries in hand, he nearly kicked the trailer door down from excitement. "Eddie! Boy, you home?"
Eddie quickly shuffled out of his bedroom to see what the commotion was about. Noting his uncle's erratic breathing and bulging eyes, he was quick to grab the grocery bags out of his hands to allow him to catch his breath.
"Everything okay?" he asked cautiously, unsure what had his normally calm uncle so frazzled.
Wayne waved the flyer into the air and let out a series of chuckles. "More than okay, look what they had hangin' on the wall near the checkout at the supermarket!"
As Eddie turned to face the piece of paper in his uncle's hand, a grimace started to form on his face when he processed the words written on it. "Ah man, i don't know. I'm not really skilled in the art of packing groceries..."
"Come on now, son. You already know the basics, where do the eggs go?"
Eddie stared blankly at his uncle while blinking slowly. Wayne blinked back at Eddie theatricality while motioning for a response.
"Uh, in the bag...?"
"Where in the bag, boy?" his uncle persisted, his once excited tone now slightly annoyed.
"Maybe on top so they don't get broken...?"
"See! It's common knowledge. You could also stock shelves or somethin if you don't wanna pack the bags!"
"Yeah, it's worth a shot, i could use the money..."
_
Come to find out, the supermarket was in dire need of staff members, and Eddie got the job that same day. Given that the entire store was understaffed, he was able to snag his preferred position of stocking shelves. The uniforms weren't great, and having to hear the same tunes everyday was somewhat unbearable, but the money was good so he couldn't complain.
A few weeks into his new employment, Eddie was introduced to the newest addition to the team. Given that she was also put in the stocking department, they spent much of their time working together and got along great. They would often joke around together, their sense of humor practically identical. Along with her kind and rambunctious personality, they also shared common interests such as reading and music. She was the perfect girl, he thought.
Upon getting to know one another, Eddie quickly learned, much to his dismay, that she had recently moved to Hawkins with her boyfriend so he could be closer to his family.
Needless to say, Eddie's love life was never something he had the opportunity or desire to explore whilst in school. The lack of female attention and constant bullying made it difficult for him to find anyone he wanted to get to know in a romantic way. He was rather disappointed to find out that his latest love interest was already spoken for, but quickly accepted it as such.
This minor disappointment didn't stop them from blossoming a wholesome friendship over the course of the next few months. Their normal 7 hour work days always seemed so short, and Eddie was longing to spend more time with his new friend outside of their place of work. Unfortunately, the fear of rejection, accompanied by the constant sense of exclusion he had faced in his prior years had really taken a toll on his confidence, preventing him from ever seeking out friendships outside of his circle of friends.
Those thoughts and worries were momentarily silenced one Friday morning when, to his pleasant surprise, she enquired about his plans for the weekend. This wasn't unusual, they often spoke of their upcoming outings, but typically Eddie was the one to initiate this topic of conversation in hopes that she would suggest hanging out. The idea of potentially spending time together outside of work was thrilling, so he tried his best to play it cool. "A whole lotta nothing, how about you?"
"My boyfriend's colleagues invited him out to this party but i don't really want to go..."
"So you're hoping a conflict arises preventing you from attending this social obligation?" he quipped while smiling.
"Actually, i was hoping maybe you know the person hosting the party and wouldn't mind attending? It'd be nice to see a familiar face there when my boyfriend inevitably ditches me."
Her eyes met the floor as she spoke her last sentence, an action that didn't go unnoticed. The topic of her significant other wasn't mentioned often, in fact, most times Eddie forget she even had a boyfriend. Of the times he was passively mentioned in conversation, Eddie got the impression that he wasn't the nicest person and that she wasn't entirely happy with him. He tried his best to set aside those thoughts, thinking they were definitely biased and he might be reading too much into the situation.
"Does this mysterious party host have a name?" he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"Tom Silverman i think, have you heard of him?" she asked, hope radiating from her eyes.
"As luck would have it, he's friends with my buddy Gareth! I could probably make an appearance." he teased.
"Yeah? Think you could make time in your busy schedule for me?" she reciprocated.
"For you? Anything."
_
The drive back to her place felt like a blur. Her mind was clouded with thoughts of her earlier interaction with Eddie paired with the excitement of spending time with him later at the party. She loved her boyfriend, she really did, but...
She couldn't bring herself to say it, let alone think it. The reality was, he didn't treat her the way she wanted to be treated. Hell, the way she deserved to be treated. Prior to them moving to Hawkins, Samuel had cheated on her for months on end with a close friend of hers. The betrayal was unforgivable, at least, that's what she thought at the time. Samuel had a way of getting into her head, planting ideas of his own and spinning the truth in ways that would make her question everything.
Following the infidelity, he had managed to convince her that the best way to make amends and save their relationship would be to move away from their hometown. Far from all distractions so they could focus on rebuilding what was broken. This was far from what she wanted, now more than ever since meeting Eddie. He was always so kind to her, a luxury far too often stripped away in her current relationship with Samuel. She loved how she felt when she was around Eddie, even in their strictly platonic relationship.
The hypocrisy of the situation made her want to melt away into a big pile of nothingness. She could feel herself growing fonder of Eddie with each passing interaction, no matter how mundane they were. Something as simple as Eddie asking her about her weekend, or when her birthday was, warmed her heart. Did Samuel even care to remember? He forgot about it last year.
Guilt was eating away at her the more her feelings grew. She would never cheat on Samuel, knowing all too well how heart wrenching of an experience that is to go though. Despite that, she couldn't help the gnawing feeling of infidelity as she felt her feelings for Eddie become more prominent and the distance between her and her partner growing. It wasn't all her fault of course, she suspected Samuel was still up to no good whenever the phone would ring at odd times throughout the night and he'd shoot out of bed to answer it. She knew interrogating him was no use, so she kept mental notes of all the occurrences, in hopes of one day working up the courage to leave him.
Apart from him persuading her into staying, there was also the web of lies she felt she had to uphold to avoid judgement from her loved ones, Eddie included. She felt awful lying to him about the reason for her move, but at the time, thought it was necessary for some sense of self-preservation.
As she pulled into her apartment complex, her racing thoughts came to a halt. She put the car in park, let out a sigh and made her way into the building. Once inside, she was met with none other than Samuel, already plastered at 4:48pm, the party wasn't until 9pm. This would make for a long grueling night. She quietly greeted him before excusing herself to go freshen up.
Samuel's work friends arrived shortly after she got into the shower, the sudden ruckus alerting her of their presence. She hurried out of the shower so to not hog the bathroom for too long and tried sneaking into their shared bedroom without alerting the group. Her efforts were overshadowed by a distasteful comment made from one of the men. She wasn't sure what bothered her more, the unsolicited remark about her body from a complete stranger, or the fact that her boyfriend, the man who was supposed to look out for her, laughed and entertained such disrespectful banter.
The frustration made tears well up in her eye as she quickly shut the bedroom door and locked it, hoping she wouldn't have to face the men for a few more hours until they had to leave. All the while, the only thing keeping her sane was the prospect of seeing Eddie later.
_
Eddie was a bundle of nerves from the moment he clocked out of work until he pulled up to the party with Gareth. Six pack in hand, he nervously made his way towards the front door before being stopped by his companion.
"Hey man, there's nothing to be nervous about, alright? If you wanna leave at any point, just let me know."
Gareth's reassuring words did little to alleviate Eddie's stress, but it was still nice for him to know that he had support tonight. With that in mind, he gave his friend an anxious smile and they let themselves into party.
Upon first glance, the party was lively and everyone was having a great time. The pair made their way towards the kitchen to put their beer in the fridge, then made an attempt at finding the host to greet him. Eddie had never met Tom, but had heard good things about him through their mutual friend. Whilst on the hunt for him, Eddie's eyes made contact with a sad looking girl sitting alone on a dingy sofa in the back of the living room, red solo cup in hand. He excused himself from Gareth and quickly made his way over to his friend. The moment their eyes locked, excitement was riddled on her face. She jumped off the couch and embraced him in what was arguably the best hug he had ever received.
"You came!!" she exclaimed, visibly intoxicated.
"I'm a man of my word." he said in a playful tone, placing a hand on his heart.
She playfully shoved his shoulder while taking a sip from her drink, giggling the entire time.
"So uh, where's your boyfriend? Am i finally gonna meet the man of the hour?" Eddie's tone was less than enthusiastic, through no fault of his own. Luckily she was too drunk to notice.
"Well," she began, "as presumed, i have been abandoned. Yet again!" although she tried covering it up with a laughter, her eyes gave away her true emotion.
"Well," he said mimicking her tone, "i am more than happy to entertain you until he gets back."
He could have sworn he saw a faint tint of pink painted on her cheeks for a moment. A tender smile was shared between the two before he was abruptly shoved by an unknown subject who was quick to wrap an arm around her.
"Oh sorry man" the lack of sympathy along with his cocky grin gave away the man's identity.
Samuel.
"Don't sweat it, man." Eddie retorted, annoyance prevalent on his face.
She gave Eddie an apologetic look before introducing the two. Her boyfriend quickly brushed off the pleasantries and turned his attention back to his girlfriend.
"Where have you been babe?" he slurred, his hold on her arm becoming increasingly tighter. Her discomfort was clear and as Eddie was about to intervene, she calmly lifted his arm off of her while stating: "Waiting for you, babe." her tone replicating the one Eddie had adopted moments ago.
Samuel grew annoyed, muttering something under his breath before once again, disappearing into the crowd.
"He seems friendly." Eddie stated in an attempt to break the awkward silence.
"I'm sorry about him, he's... not the best at introductions."
"No kidding..."
Moments passed without further dialogue, Eddie debated mentioning his concerns but felt it wasn't his place. I mean really, how would he even put into words what he was thinking? 'Hey, you know that douchebag boyfriend of yours? Yeah, he doesn't deserve you'.
"Well," she broke the silence, "I better go check on him, will you stay a while?"
"As long as you need me" he responded.
She shot him a warm smile before venturing into the crowd to find Samuel. Eddie waited until she was outside of his line of vision before letting his smile falter. He quickly ushered to the fridge to grab a can of beer to calm his nerves. The rush of euphoria from seeing her accompanied with the displeasure of meeting Samuel left him feeling very disgruntled. He was zoned out, sipping the beer in his hands relentlessly, when he felt a hand tap him on the bicep. Turning his attention towards the person to his right, he was met with a familiar face.
"Hey, you alright?" Gareth asked, concern prevalent in his tone.
"Nah man, wanna go have a smoke?"
_
The initial effects of the alcohol she had consumed in an attempt to numb herself seemed to have faded away quickly following Samuel and Eddie's interaction. As much as she wanted to spend the night with Eddie and let her boyfriend mingle on his own, she felt obligated to go looking for him. The party wasn't held at a mansion by any means, but it certainly wasn't a small house. After searching for what seemed like 25 minutes, she finally found Samuel along with a few of his friends in a bedroom in the basement. Upon entering, the first thing she noticed was a dark green colored table with small plastic bags on it, filled with what looked to be pills. She was quickly ushered into the room and prompted to lock the door before being urged to sit down.
"Sam, what are you doing-"
"Babe, baby, hi!" his tone was drastically different from their previous encounter. He seemed much more erratic and his pupils were blown out.
"Are you okay? I've been looking for you-"
"Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I'm great baby. How are you?"
His frantic eyes and antsy demeanor, accompanied by the unknown substance beside him gave her all the context she needed: He was high. She contemplated her next move, being careful not to upset him.
"I'm fine," she started, "actually, i'm a little tired, i think i'm ready to go home." She knew little could be done to grant her wishes at this point given that she had had far too much to drink to operate a vehicle and Samuel was much less equipt to in this state.
"What... Really? No baby, the night's just starting. You're not having fun?" She was getting ready to answer before being abruptly cut off, his question apparently rhetorical. "I know what will help. Have this." He grabbed her hand and placed one of the chalky pills in her palm.
"I'm not doing drugs, Sam." she said firmly.
"Do you trust me?"
She paused, knowing this was a trap. This wasn't the first time he'd used this tactic to get her to do something she didn't want to. Her delay in responding seemed to aggravate him and he was quick to snap at her.
"Fine, go home then. I just wanted to have a nice time with you tonight. S'what i get for trying." He began shifting his body away from her, turning his attention back to the group.
Through no fault of her own, it had been hard-wired into her brain that in order to avoid an argument and mental torture for the next week, it was easier to agree with whatever he was saying.
"No, no! It's just..."
"You're scared?" his friend said while snickering.
"I've just never done this before..." she replied looking away so no one could see her anxiety ridden expression.
Samuel cupped her face with his hands, an act of intimacy he hadn't shown in years. She melted into his touch, craving to feel a sense of worthiness. "Baby, you'll be fine. I took it and feel amazing. We'll feel amazing together and i'll take care of you if you don't feel good. I promise."
Samuel had often made promises he couldn't keep, and although the little voice in the back of her mind was screaming for her to walk away, she fell victim to his manipulation once again. They exchanged a few promising words to one another before she swallowed the small narcotic, internally comforting herself: 'What's the worst that could happen?'
_
Following a much needed cigarette break and pep talk from Gareth, Eddie composed himself and entered the house once again. Once inside, he scanned the room in an attempt to spot out his friend, but was unsuccessful. He figured she might be using the restroom or mingling with people around the house and decided to enjoy his second and final beer of the night with Gareth.
_
20 minutes had passed since she took the unknown substance from her boyfriend, and up until this point, she had convinced herself that she probably wouldn't feel it, or that if she did, it would feel the same as marijuana. But oh, she was wrong. So very wrong. She noticed her heart began to beat faster and her palms were significantly more damp than before. She felt this overwhelming sense of anxiety wash over her and her ears began to ring. Still sat next to Samuel, she grabbed ahold of his arm in a subtle attempt at getting his attention. Whether he was too high to notice or purposely ignoring her, he had no reaction to her touch. Initially feeling embarrassment, she put that feeling aside and decided to vocalize her distress.
"Baby, i don't feel good, m'heart's beating really fast and-" words kept spilling out of her mouth at a much faster rate than she normally spoke. The chatter in the room never faltered, the noise adding fuel to the fire, making her anxiety worsen. Samuel eventually cut her off, insisting on the fact that she was fine. His invalidation floored her feeling of distress, her heartbeat increasing in speed. She could now hear it in her ears. "I don't like this baby, i wanna go home. Please, can we go home." she pleaded, tears starting to form in her eyes.
Samuel grew annoyed with her, his high being compromised by his girlfriend's distress. He offered to take her to a different room, away from all the noise and she agreed, the commotion from the room she was currently in proving to be too much. Luckily for her, there was an additional guest room in the basement, one that was currently vacant. The prospect of spending one on one time with her boyfriend, especially while in such a vulnerable state brought a great deal of comfort to her. That sense of relief was short lived as he stated that he wanted to get back to his friends, insisting on her trying to get some sleep.
Unbeknownst to her, the drug she took was a stimulate, making sleeping next to impossible. Information that Samuel conveniently didn't mention for his own benefit.
He tucked her into bed and promised that if she called out for him he'd be there within seconds. With a kiss goodnight and more reassuring words, he shut the light, closed the door and headed back to the adjacent bedroom to continue his antics. She was left with her wandering anxious thoughts, but tried her best to fall asleep.
After a short while, her attempts were unsuccessful and her anxiety worsened. She tried to calm herself down to no avail and resorted to calling for her boyfriend. No answer. She tried once more, this time a little louder. Still nothing. Time seemed to escape her. She wasn't sure if an hour or 5 minutes had passed. All she knew was that she had been calling for him for what seemed like forever, to no avail. The most hurtful part of it all was overhearing him talking and laughing with his friends in the adjacent room. Surely if she could hear him, he could hear her? Perhaps he was choosing to ignore he cries for help. The idea of getting out of bed to venture into the other room was far too overwhelming in this state, so she settled into bed, holding onto the sheets tightly and hoped that he would come check up on her soon.
_
With almost an hour having passed since he had last seen her, Eddie grew concerned. He figured with the amount of time that had passed, it wasn't unreasonable to ask the other party goers if they had seen her.
His efforts, although valiant, were unsuccessful. Once he established that she wasn't on the main floor, he decided to wander around the house in hopes of running into her. When he overheard Samuel and a group of men cackling in the basement, he made his way down the stairs.
Once he reached to bottom of steps, he noticed a source of light coming from a closed door, the secondary living room he was now standing in vacant and dark. 'Mystery solved.' he thought, she must be in there with Samuel and his friends. As he started up the stairs again, he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a faint voice coming from the back of the basement. He slowly made his way towards the unlit room and placed an ear against the closed door. That's when he heard it again, only this time, he recognized her voice, calling out for her boyfriend.
Eddie wasted no time opening the door, only to find her laying in bed in the dark. He carefully made his was towards her, crouching down to her level.
"Hey, hey. It's Eddie. Are you okay?" he gently asked. The only response heard was a series of whimpers. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, his heart broke. The light from the living room that leaked into the guest room reflected off of her tear stained cheeks and puffy eyelids; she had been crying for quite some time. Eddie wasn't an expert on body language, but judging from her tight grip on the bed sheets and her limbs curled into the fetal position, he could tell she was scared.
"Hey, hey. It's okay, you're safe. I promise. Do you need water? I'll get you anything you need, just tell me..." he stopped himself from uttering anything else, worried he would overwhelm her with questions. After pausing for a moment, he swallowed his pride before asking: "Do you need me to get Samuel?"
She let out a soft cry, her grip on the bed sheets tightening. The mere mention of his name reminded her of the betrayal she felt. He promised he would look after her, but didn't. Instead, he left her in such a vulnerable state, a state she never wanted to be in in the first place.
In her best attempt at composing herself, she was able to mutter out a sentence before her breathe hitched again: "I wanna go home, please." she buried her face in the covers as her body shook, a combination of crying excessively and the drug shaking her form. She was so cold, no amount of heat from the blankets seemed to help.
"Okay, okay, i'll get you home. Just... One minute. I'll be right back, i promise."
Eddie carefully got up and exited to room, gently shutting the door. He made his was towards the room Samuel was in, politeness the last thing on his mind as he barged in. He glanced around the room, noticing the drugs littered across the table, then met Samuel's gaze.
"Are you aware that your girlfriend is crying her eyes out 10 feet away from you?" he spat, shooting daggers at him.
There was a moment of silence, followed by snickering from a few of the men in the room. One of them who, Eddie could only assume was a friend of Samuel's spoke up. "Jesus, what a buzz kill, you owe me for that pill, Sam."
It all clicked. Eddie's vision blurred in what could only be described as a cloud of fury. The echo's of their laughter only fueled his rage as he started putting together what had happened. With every ounce of restraint he could muster, he gave Samuel once last death glare before storming out, being mindful not to slam the door to prevent startling her in the other room.
Slowly opening the door, he tried to come up with the best plan on how to proceed. The two beers he had drank over the last 2 1/2 hours were in no way enough to inebriate him and he knew she needed to be taken home. Once again crouched down by the bedside, he gently placed a hand on her shoulder and began speaking softly.
"Hey, it's Eddie. I can take you home, just need to know your address."
Her crying had subsided but she was shivering and grinding her teeth uncontrollably, a side effect Eddie recognized from whatever drug she had taken. Her lack of response prompted him to try again, this time in a much softer tone.
"Sweetheart, i'll take you home just please, i don't know where you live. Do you have your house keys? Where do you and Samuel live?"
The whimpers that left her lips broke his heart. Eddie figured if he couldn't get an answer out of her in this environment, maybe removing the stress factor would help.
"Okay, can you stand up for me? Here, let's get you up"
As he began helping her from the bed, her sudden exclamation startled him. "No! Please, m'really cold. I need a blanket." Distress painted across her face as she wrapped her arms around her frame, Eddie pondered what the best option would be. After a few seconds, he figured Gareth could deal with the repercussion of his next action later.
"Okay, come on, i've got you." he said as he gently wrapped the giant comforter around her shoulders, guiding her out of the room.
Once they arrived at the base of the steps, he grabbed the excess blanket that was previously dragging along the floor to prevent her from tripping. She was unsteady from the drug, her legs felt like they were made of jelly. Eddie helped her up the stairs, supporting the majority of her weight. Once they reached the main floor, he directed her towards the sofa she was sitting on earlier in the evening and helped her down onto the soft cushion.
"Wait right here." he said in a caring voice. As he began getting up from his crouched position, he felt a cold, damp hand grabbing his.
"Wait, wait, where are you going?" her voice was low but filled with worry. He turned to her, finally getting a good look at her face since being in the dark basement and his heart sank. He tried his best not to show any signs of concern, but this proved to be challenging. Her normally light hazel eyes were almost completely black. Her hair was disheveled and her face slightly puffy from crying.
Eddie had been around plenty of people under the influence before, but never anyone he felt such deep adoration for. It was torture seeing her like this. He once again crouched down so he could meet her eye level and gave her hand a gentle reassuring squeeze. "I've just gotta find Gareth to let him know i'm leaving. I drove him here, don't want him to be stranded. I'll be right back, i promise."
Her gaze softened a bit, and with a small nod, Eddie took that as a go ahead to proceed with his plan. He lifted her hand up to his mouth to give it a quick kiss before getting up to find his friend.
Luckily, with one quick sweep of the main floor, he was able to find Gareth and get him up to speed on the situation.
"What a prick, we should fight that guy."
"Yeah, normally i would agree but i gotta get her outta here. Are you cool finding a ride home tonight?"
"Oh ya, don't sweat it! I can always just crash here if it comes down to it. Get her home safe."
"Thanks man, i'll see you later."
Gareth patted him on the shoulder and with that, Eddie made his way back to the sofa. "Alright, let's get you home, yeah? Up you go."
Taking the same precautionary steps he did while going up the stairs, they made their way out the door to Eddie's van. He helped her into the passenger's side, carefully closing the door and hurried over to the driver's side. Once in, he buckled both of their seatbelts, started the car and began driving away. Once the car was nicely heated and her shivering had subsided, he figured it would be a good time to try to find out the location he should be driving to.
"So uh, am i going the right way? Do you live close by?"
He glanced over at her, smiling sweetly once they made eye contact. She returned the smile, but the sadness displayed on the rest of her features made her true feelings apparent.
"We're far" she mumbled, "i live next to work..."
Eddie sighed internally. He didn't mind the drive, he was more concerned about her having to sit in a car for 45 minutes. "Alright, i'll get us to work and you can tell me where to go from there, yeah? You have your house keys?"
She paused to think and let out a defeated breath upon realizing; their shared house key was kept on Samuel's lanyard. She brought her hands to her face in despair and began apologizing profusely. Eddie wasn't quite sure what she was apologizing for, or to who even. He softly put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, gently moving his thumb over the blanket that was still draped over her.
"It's okay, look we're not that far from Tom's place. I'll turn the car around and we can get the key. I can go in, you don't even have to leave the car-"
She shook her head in quick motions, her hands dropping from her face suddenly. "No, i can't, i'm..." she trailed off, turning to face the passenger's window.
The silence was broken by small cries leaving her mouth. Eddie slowly pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park so he could focus all of his attention on helping her as best as he could.
"Are you worried he'll be upset?" he began, trying to get to the root of the problem. His question was met with more tears falling from her eyes. Her breathing was becoming more erratic and her hands began to shake. Eddie was torn, he knew she desperately needed to get home, but at what cost? He couldn't live with himself knowing that once he dropped her off, she would be left alone to face that jerk again. He made a snap decision, once again choosing to deal with the potential consequences in the morning.
"Alright, let's go to my place for now. It's not that far from here and we can figure out what to do from there, yeah? Is that okay?"
In an unexpected turn of events, her crying stopped almost immediately following his words. "Can i please stay there tonight?" she muttered softly, eyes glued to the floor of his van.
She knew it might be asking too much, but the thought of facing her boyfriend tonight was too much to handle. Eddie's eyes widened, but he quickly composed himself before responding. "Of course, anything you need."
_
Obeying the rules of the road was out of character for Eddie, especially when it came to speeding, but tonight was different. He made sure to make the drive to his trailer as peaceful as possible for her, not wanting to worsen her distress.
Once there, he was relieved to see Wayne's truck was gone. At least she wouldn't have to worry about his uncle seeing her in this state.
He quickly hurried her inside and onto the sofa before scrambling around the trailer gathering anything he deemed might be of use. He came back into the living room with additional blankets, a glass of water and a can of soda from the fridge, setting them down on the table. He proposed switching out the blanket for a fresh one, doubting the cleanliness of the one currently wrapped around her.
"S'too cold." she slurred, grinding her teeth once again.
Eddie knew better than to try to rationalize with her so he thought of a solution that would make for the blanket swap to be more pleasant. He grabbed one of the blankets, walked over to the dryer and tossed it in. Making his way back to the living room, he picked up the can of soda to open it and slid closer to her on the table. "Here, have a sip, you must be really thirsty."
Up until he mentioned it, she hadn't noticed how dry her mouth was, or how chapped her lips felt. Now that she was in a comfortable place and felt safe, the fear and adrenaline wearing off, she was very aware of the physical discomforts she was feeling. She quickly grabbed the cup of water, opting for the least cold drink made available and downed the liquid within seconds. Eddie's eyebrows raised and he let out a small chuckle. She met his gaze with a shy smile, clearly embarrassed by the intensity of her gulps. Their exchange of grins was interrupted by a shrill ringing coming from the hallway; the dryer alerting them of it's cycle being complete. Eddie shuffled over to it, quickly returning to the living room with the warmed up blanket.
"Here, feel this." he started, placing a corner of the fluffy material in her hands "Nice and warm for ya. How about we get rid of that dingy old thing?" he said gesturing to the stain riddled comforter.
She agreed with a nod, preparing herself for the sharp cold she would feel once the blanket was no longer on her. Eddie attempted to make the switch as seamless as possible, quickly wrapping the fabric around her. Once the warm blanket was snug around her, Eddie lightly tugged on either side in a playful motion. Their faces were mere inches from one another, he wished they could stay this close forever.
"Better?" he inquired in a soothing voice.
She nodded in response. "Thank you."
He stayed crouched in front of her, his hands remaining on the blanket for longer than he probably should have. He scolded himself internally, before retreating onto the adjacent chair. She instantly missed his presence.
It was fairly late at this point, the clock reading 1:04am. Eddie knew she wouldn't be getting much sleep while the drug was still in her system, but offered to set her up in his bedroom, reassuring her that he would take the pull out bed, not wanting to cross any boundaries or make her uncomfortable. She pondered for a few moments before agreeing. They walked over to the back of the trailer, Eddie leading the way with the extra blankets in hand. He breached the entryway of his bedroom and thanked his past self for tidying up the mess that was littering his bedroom floor earlier in the day.
Once there, she took in her surroundings admiring all the art and little trinkets laying around. Eddie grew nervous from the extended period of silence and cleared his throat before saying "Is this okay?" referring to her sleeping arrangement for the night.
"S'cozy." she responded with a warm smile. She made her way towards the bed and plopped down rather sloppily, her legs still feeling like they could give away at any second. She settled into bed and he began turning off the lamps, pausing before switching off the last one.
"Want this one on?"
"Yes please" she responded quietly from under the blankets. She had the soft material pulled up to her nose and was laying on her side watching him maneuver around the room.
"You got it" he said, a dorky smile painted on his face as he turned to look at her. Despite still appearing strung out, Eddie was enamored by her. He always thought she was beautiful, her current state never wavered that. He thought she looked especially adorable all tucked into his bed, her eyes glistening with gratitude and what appeared to be admiration. She closed her eyes for a brief moment letting out a content sigh, the feeling of safety and comfort engulfing her like a warm hug.
Eddie took this as a sign he should retreat to the living room, making sure to wish her goodnight, as well as reassuring her that she could call for him at any point in time if she needed anything. Although she had been let down earlier by a similar unkept promise, she knew Eddie meant every word he said.
Once in the living room, Eddie opted to sit on the sofa for a while to ensure that if she did call out for him, he would be awake and ready to help. He turned on the television in hopes of keeping his mind busy, his thoughts currently consumed with the image of her in his bed. He despised his heart for making him feel so fondly of someone who was in a relationship, albeit an unhealthy one. Was it so wrong for him to hope that she would leave him? The rage he felt accompanied by sorrow for the way she was treated tonight was overbearing. With a grunt, he stood up from his seat and made his way to the refrigerator in hopes that there would be a cold beer stashed somewhere in there. Wayne wasn't opposed to him drinking his supply, so long as he replaced what was taken. Behind the milk carton were two cans of Pabs Blue Ribbon. He grabbed one of the cans and headed back to the sofa, making sure to open it slowly to minimize the noise from the aluminum cracking.
_
The second Eddie had left the bedroom, the feeling of anxiety she had previously felt slowly crept it's way back into her core. She shook her leg in an attempt at self-soothing, trying her best to remind herself that she was safe now. She knew that she could call for Eddie at any point and that he would be back in the room within seconds, but the feeling of embarrassment and fear of bothering him prevented her from doing so. She tossed and turned, trying to get to sleep without success. Out of frustration she sat up from the bed, the blanket still wrapped over her head in a cocoon shape. She began looking around the room once more, admiring the posters on his wall. His bedroom was exactly as she had pictured it to be. Having only seem him in their work uniform up until tonight, his haircut and ringed fingers had given her a pretty good idea of what his style would be; his bedroom reflecting that perfectly.
His bedroom was quaint and felt like home. A feeling she hadn't felt in years since being with Samuel.
Samuel.
The mere thought of him sent a cold shudder through her that shook her form. She worried about his reaction to her not being home once he arrived at their apartment. He always accused her of infidelity, likely projecting onto her his own bad behavior, and would surely lash out at her the next time he saw her. She began to spiral, images of past mistreatments and abuse at the hand of her partner crashed into her like a violent wave. Tears streamed down her cheeks uncontrollably, as they had many times before.
She had spent many nights crying into a towel in the bathroom alone so she wouldn't wake him with the sound of her whimpers, as he laid in their shared bed without a care in the world. He lacked the ability to comfort her, expressing it many times, usually by saying: "i don't know what you want from me". In those moments a simple reassuring hug would have sufficed, or any act of compassion or intimacy, but he didn't care. Not then, and certainly not now. This sudden realization was all too much for her to handle in this moment.
She desperately needed comfort. She attempted to compose herself before slowly creeping out of bed and pausing at the ajar door. Part of her knew it was wrong, but the desperate need for consoling overshadowed the morality of her decision. In a barely audible tone, she called Eddie's name and waited nervously inches from the door. Almost instantly, she heard him getting up from the sofa and walk hurriedly to the back of the trailer. The door opened quickly startling her and Eddie let out a small yelp, not expecting to see her standing so close to the door.
"Jesus," he let out with a sigh, clutching his chest. "Sorry, ah, i thought you'd be in bed." After recovering from the small arrythmia he was almost certain he suffered, he chuckled and asked, "Everything okay?"
Upon his arrival, a sense of dread and self-loathing washed over her. She feared rejection but also reprimanding from Eddie. He knew she had a boyfriend, and had been so considerate of that all night, was she really about to ask him if he could sleep in the same bed? It wasn't in a sexual way, but somehow the lather felt worse. Seeking emotional intimacy from someone other than the person she was dating? She felt despicable. The worse form of betrayal in her mind was emotional infidelity, which is exactly what had been taking place over the last few months. She couldn't be blamed though, not entirely. Her absent and neglectful partner had driven her into the arms of a more caring, emotionally intelligent man and for that, he only had himself to blame.
"S'worse when you're out there. Can you stay here? Please..." she managed to mutter.
Eddie's heart skipped a beat. He would do anything she'd ask to help her feel better. "Yeah! Yeah, of course. Let me go get the extra blankets and a pillow and i'll set up on the fl-"
"Could you sleep next to me?"
Her broken tone of voice shattered him. It had become very apparent to him that her relationship was far more damaging than it appeared to be on the surface. Every question she had asked him, whilst in her most vulnerable state, had a sad undertone expecting rejection. The mention of her partner's name alone had caused her intense distress. Without letting another second go by, he sprung into action. He gently agreed and motioned towards the bed, letting her get comfortable before climbing in himself. Not wanting to cross any boundaries or make her feel uncomfortable, Eddie held off on laying down. Instead, he sat up on the bed with his back against the wall, trying to take up as little space as possible as he nonchalantly stared ahead.
She was laying on her side facing him, when he caught a glimpse of her looking up at him. He turned to face her, trying to think of any topic of conversation to hide the fact that he was screaming inside. All the feelings he had for her that he had managed to suppress all this came crashing down on him. She was the girl of his dreams, and she was laying in his bed with him. He quickly shut down those thoughts and focused on her well-being; it was his top priority. He took in her facial features, now that the blanket was no longer covering the bottom half of her face, and noticed she was grinding her teeth still. "Try and relax your jaw." he said with care.
"M'sorry"
"Don't need to apologize," he reassured laughing lightly, "just don't want you to be sore in the morning, is all."
There was a brief moment of silence as her smile grew, then a snort escaped her as she buried her face in the blanket. The innuendo now becoming apparent to Eddie who, also broke out into laughter.
"Oh god, i didn't mean it like that!" was all he managed to say, bringing his palm up to his face. His embarrassment was short-lived, her laughter filling the room was music to his ears.
"I know, s'just funny" she said between giggles.
The room went quiet again, the sound of their breathing being the only audible noise. The effects of the drug were slowly wearing off, evidence of that came from her suddenly yawning.
"Wanna try and get some rest?" he offered.
"That sounds good" she responded.
"Okay, lights on or off?"
"Off please."
"Okay," he said, making his way towards the lamp to shut it off. He excused himself to go turn off the rest of the lights, as well as the TV still playing and made his was back to the room shortly after. He carefully climbed into the bed, this time laying down but still taking up as little room as possible.
Eddie was the kind of sleeper that liked to take up as much of the bed as humanly possible, so he know he wouldn't be getting the best of sleep tonight but he didn't care. Knowing that she was safe meant more to him than a good night's rest. They wished one another goodnight and attempted to drift asleep.
A few minutes of stillness passed, she turned to face him, craving closeness and warmth. Tonight's series of events had proven that Eddie was a gentleman and certainly wasn't the type to take advantage of her or intentionally cross any boundaries. She inched slightly closer to him and whispered: "Can you hold me?"
He hummed in response extending his arms for her to settle in. She nestled into his chest, their bodies fitting perfectly with one another like a puzzle. The feeling of contempt and security she felt while in Eddie's arms was unmatched. It was as if nothing could hurt her as long as he was around. He felt her grip on his shirt tighten slightly, her body pushing onto his in an attempt to get closer. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, feels good. Safe." she replied sleepily. Eddie understood in that moment how touch starved she was. She craved intimacy in it's purest form. He readjusted his arm so he could lightly rub his fingertips on her back soothingly. She was beginning to drift asleep, but was still clenching her jaw, an action Eddie was quick to notice. With his free hand, he lightly cupped the side of her face and rubbed gentle circles on her cheek and jaw in an attempt to sooth her likely sore muscles.
"Try to relax your jaw sweetheart, unclench your teeth." he gently reminded her.
His caring instructions were met with a low hum followed by a barely audible "thank you", the tension in her face releasing almost instantaneously.
Eddie bent down slightly to give the top of her head a kiss while softly uttering: "Goodnight sweetheart.", her only response an even sleepier hum than before. In a matter of seconds, they both drifted to sleep comfortably in each others presence.
_
The end ♡
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This is my first time posting in a while, i hope you liked it, lmk what you think! xo
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#stranger things eddie#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson oneshot#angst#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x hurt/comfort#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x you#eddie x reader#eddie munson fanfiic#eddie munson x female reader#st4 eddie#hurt/comfort
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hi love! could I request a boyfriend!sirius where maybe you’re shopping together or doing some mundane tasks but he keeps flirting and distracting you but you’re not really mad bc he’s so cute?
thank you for requesting! this is short and sweet and a little suggestive, hope you like! | fem!reader, flirty jokes, fluff, 0.7k
"I genuinely think this looks like James," Sirius says, nudging you with his elbow. You look away from the oranges and see that he's holding up a misshapen sweet potato.
You just raise your eyebrows at him and bite the inside of your cheek. He wiggles the spud and clears his throat. "Oh, Lily, I swear I didn't mean to break my glasses again," he says, voice pitched up in a deliberately poor imitation of James's lilt. You flare your nostrils in an attempt to keep your expression neutral.
"It hasn't got glasses," you say. "Actually, it kind of looks like you." Sirius's eyes go wide and his jaw drops in mock offense.
"I'm wounded," he cries, pressing a hand to his heart. "My own girlfriend thinks I look like a potato." The corner of your mouth twitches and you turn away from him to put the fruits from your list into your cart.
"Don't be dramatic," you say, pushing your way around the produce section of the store. "Potatoes really are quite versatile."
Sirius hooks his chin over your shoulder to take a peek at the list and to say, softly, "Are you saying I'm easy, darling?" You can feel his stubble on your neck, smell his cologne over the sterile air of the supermarket.
"I'm saying that I like potatoes," you tell him. He laughs suddenly, delighted at your flirting, before crossing the aisle to grab garlic.
"I'd hope so," he says. "Otherwise it's going to be real awkward when we get home and you have to share a bed with me." You roll your eyes and continue through the store.
He tugs your hand as you leave the fruits behind and you stop. "You know, pineapple is supposed to make your pu--"
You level him with a glare and he stops talking, though his grin is smug and not at all sorry. "Don't think I won't leave you here," you say.
Sirius taps your chin with a knuckle. "You'd miss me." His eyes crinkle at the corners, like he can't help but smile when he looks at you.
You sigh like the most put upon girl in the world. "Unfortunately," you drone. "Go get some cereal and I'll meet you by the bread." He presses a quick kiss to your cheek and spins on his heel.
Idiot, you think, but you're smiling. Every moment with Sirius is heightened, is more alive than you thought possible. He's practically spilling over with whatever he's feeling at any given moment and it spreads to you. His excitement, his flirtation, his love. Even this -- going to the grocery store -- is a small adventure.
He's only gone for a few minutes, finding you in front of the pasta before you've made your way to the bread. He always finds you, somehow. He gasps when he sees you.
"Fuck me," he says. "You've gotten prettier since I last saw you. How did you manage that?" You ignore him, studying the options on the shelf instead, but your mouth turns up at the edges. "There she is," Sirius says, softer. "Got you."
"You're incorrigible," you mutter. He moves to stand beside you, tucking his hand into your back pocket.
"Oh, big word," he says, breath hot on your ear. "Talk dirty to me."
"If you keep distracting me we're never going to get home," you tell him. He shrugs.
"This would not a bad place to live, actually. Lots of food. Shit to do. I'm sure there are break rooms with couches we could fu--" You level him with the same glare from the fruit aisle and he laughs again. "Sorry, sorry, I'll behave. And then we can go home to our couch." He leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth.
"I'll believe it when I see it," you say. He plucks the list from your hand and gives it a once-over.
"Meet you at the check-out in 10 and I swear I'll have all of this stuff." Before you can say another word he's off.
"Ridiculous," you say to the pasta. I love him, you think, cheeks starting to ache from your smile.
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!
#sirius black x reader#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black fic#sirius black fanfiction#marauders fanfiction#marauders
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2025 wips
Was tagged by the lovely @emmerrr to list the wips I’m hoping to get done this year, ty 🥰!
Search for the Unknown
Which is still under the title “ghost adventures” in my gdocs. Ghost hunting au! [advertisement voice] Read chapter 1 on ao3 today! I have the main plot shit of chapter 2 mapped out but it needs jazzing up bc I want the flirting and tension to reach truly painful lol. Starting with: there was only one bed (the floor). There will also be spirit boxes and fucking around in abandoned buildings and finding a dead body and maybe a ghost fight. who’s to say
Crazy Ex Boyfriend
The crazy ex girlfriend au which replaces musical numbers with dreams! This fic haunts my every waking moment. It wants to be written so so so bad. Unfortunately I don’t actually want to write it 😭 I would prefer it to be written by someone who is more qualified… But then they wouldn’t do it like I would and so I HAVE to 😔 i was talking to kellie the other day about her existential crisis fic and realized that this is MY existential crisis fic which is part of why I don’t want to write it lol. Anyway! Chapter 2 is more shenaniganful than the opener. Teaser trailer - ronan meets blue (and Gansey) while looking like shit at the grocery store and gets swindled into going hiking with them (and Adam :3). He’s not remotely prepared and has a bad time! He stalks adam a little bit. He goes to confession and smokes weed w the priest in the parking lot
Greywaren canon divergence
This fic suffers from the fact that I disliked so much of greywaren that it’s difficult to limit myself to changing only some things and not like. Everything 😅 Which would be like entirely too much effort and I’m not going to do that ✌️But the idea stemmed from the fact that I’d expected adam to be asleep/in a coma/actively dying after the end of mister impossible since he was in the astral plane when hennessy shut off the ley line… so he meets ronan there and the have to find a way out of the liminal dreamspace they’re sort of trapped in. In so doing they actually have to deal w their respective shit and fight and talk to each other lol. Optional sidequests include: exploring what ronan actually IS (fae??) & maybe some kind of metaphorical brain labyrinth to sort of call back to that Harvard/bryde labyrinth thing from the beginning of cdth that never really went anywhere to my knowledge. A test of mettle??Also the reason why Adam doesn’t actually die is that persephone’s spirit is still floating around the astral plane and she temporarily takes control of his body and pretends to be him until he gets back lol. Tragically this would require a dreamer trilogy reread and I haven’t had the stomach….
Forgetting Sarah Marshall au
I’d first conceptualized this as ronan going on vacation after a breakup with kavinsky and falling for Adam who works at the hotel or resort or whatever which would be fairly straightforward. But then i thought it’d be funnier if it were adam after a breakup with blue but then surprise blue and Gansey are there and for some reason they brought Gansey’s terrible obnoxious friend and much awkwardness ensues 💖
Honorable mentions include:
Rodansey college au. Canon divergentish trippy dream sequence with horror and clone fucking elements. Wedding au. Vampire au. That one where adam is Ronan’s weed man.
I have many ideas but only 1 brain which only works SOMETIMES but i promise it is doing its best
No idea who’s already done this but @cheeeryos @clotpolesonly if you have anything???
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Badsansuary Entry 1
Prompts: 6. Restrained & 7. Blanket
A/N: hi hello I am 100% freeballing the event here, taking a couple prompts per week into a drabble or drawing and seeing how far that goes~ you can check out the prompts list here
word-count: 2k
writing tag-list: @lavenoon @mikealys-ael @kissingarthurclaus @bugsband @avenships @faerie-circle-ships @textreasures-rbs
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It really wasn’t easy, juggling two lives at once, with one of those lives being so haphazard and chaotic that it was covering itself with grease and threatening to fling itself in a different direction while you juggled it. Simultaneously, it was the boring, normal, everyday job that was the one that seemed to be seeping all the energy and focus from Aspen's brain and body. It was getting to a point where they could handle a training session with Cross without wanting to keel over immediately, but another supervision meeting with your newest manager made them want to sink into the ground from fatigue.
As Aspen locked up the store, they felt their phone ping and vibrate in your pocket. A coworker inviting them out to join some of the others for drinks. Sighing softly with a smile, they sent a decline and thanks. It was nice to have that option of normalcy sometimes, but not when Nightmare was expecting them to discuss an upcoming mission.
People say they have skeletons in their closets. Aspen's closet kept having skeletons falling out of it. Genuinely, it wasn’t the actual closet itself, ala the piece of furniture being enchanted. It was Aspen. They’d tested it themselves, and so had Nightmare after the pair's first unfortunate meeting (with more violence). And because of that, Aspen really had no choice but to become involved.
And now they were walking home, looking like any other commuting human, bundled up to the ears in scarf and winter coat. But they’d get home and it wouldn’t stop there.
Aspen sneezed hard, their scarf taking the brunt of it. Ugh, thank god it was the weekend. They could toss that in the washing machine with the week’s laundry. Running a grocery store wasn’t generally too hard on any old person but today they seemed to feel even more run down than before. Their chest ached with each breath of chilly air, their legs grumbled and grouched as they speed-walked down the street. They’d been on your feet more than usual today, and the rest of the past week, and including the off-the-hours training, no-one should've been surprised that it would start to take its toll.
Just maybe not to this extent.
By the time Aspen reached home, the background ache had managed to worm itself up behind their forehead. Groaning softly as their neighbours upstairs slammed one of their doors (as always), they unlocked the front door and stepped inside, out from the cold.
The smell of takeaway pizza, fresh too, knocked them off-balance for two seconds. Habit and history reminded them of the reason why - one of three at least (Cross didn’t like ordering food to your place without you here, and Nightmare just…didn’t seem to eat).
“I hope you tipped properly!” Aspen called down the hallway, hanging up their coat and scarf, only for the raised voice to kick off against their throat. Coughing out a sigh, they glanced towards the living room. No response.
One of two, then.
Wandering through, they glanced over the hooded figure on the sofa, lounging to the side with half a pizza slice hanging out from the shadowed skull of his head, grubby slippers discarded on the floor. Aspen leaned over the back, flicking the box open and snagging a slice for yourself.
“someone’s late,” Dust commented.
“I’m not late, I’ve easily got another hour until Nightmare wanted me to go talk to him,” Aspen grumbled back.
“y’normally earlier on Fridays.”
It'd be easy to make a remark about it being creepy. But honestly, with the amount of time this whole situation had been going on for, it hadn't be hard to start memorising each other's routines. It could be sweet, honestly. Just not today.
“God forbid I walk a bit slower than usual. I’m still sore from Cross teaching me about arm and back muscles I didn’t realise I had.”
“did that include training your chest muscles too?” The sarcasm was palpable, and Aspen squinted back at Dust from the kitchenette. Opening their mouth to retort didn’t help anyway though, as it just triggered another burst of coughs.
Of course, this had to come on now of all times.
“I’m not turning this into an argument,” Aspen groaned, more to themselves than to their houseguest, before raising their voice to make sure Dust could definitely tell they were talking to him, “I’m making myself tea, you want anything?”
“nah.”
“Alright.”
For a short while, the only sounds in the room were the soap opera on your TV screen, the kettle brewing, and Aspen's slow but vain attempts to try and calm their lungs down. They could feel their brain zoning out as their mug of tea brewed too slowly, leaning against the fridge, as if that could dull the headache. Did Dust turn up the thermostat? Or was the apartment just feeling extra cozy with the cold snap going on outside?
Mug in hand, Aspen wandered over to the sofa, dropping down on the cushions. Dust nudged the pizza box closer with a foot, and they helped themselves to another slice in-between sips of tea.
It was a few minutes into this that they realised that Dust’s eyelights, gleaming red and blue beneath his hood, hadn’t stopped staring at you since you’d sat down. At first Aspen didn’t respond - or rather, tried not to respond. Dust wasn’t the only person around who sometimes zoned out into thin air while looking directly at someone in the process. It was unnerving, sure. But they weren’t going to make yourself seem uncomfortable.
Unless he was actively staring, in which case Aspen was going to do their damndest to not respond since that would drop you into whatever stupid game he was playing now.
It prickled and gnawed at the back of your neck. They pulled out their phone, checked Discord and text messages. Their coworkers had already started drinking. Good for them.
“you’re sweating.” Dust broke through Aspen's attempts to ignore his staring, and internally they swore.
“No I’m not,” Aspen replied with a grunt.
“you are.”
“No I’m-” Warm bone pressed against their forehead, cutting off their words. Dust’s ability to move fast and silent never failed to catch them off-guard like this. Gaping for a moment, Aspen scowled and swiped at his hand, knocking it away from their forehead. He kept looming over them though, crouched on the sofa now.
“Fuck you, it’s cold outside! I’m gonna be a little sweaty,” Aspen snapped defensively.
“your hand’s shaking,” Dust replied, his gaze turning towards the mug in their hand. They glanced down, seeing the grip tremble, and snatched the mug up in both hands.
“Because someone’s deciding to be a stressful, intimidating asshole.” It was a mean jab, but Aspen was tired and their head hurt even more, and they knew they were going to have to speak to Nightmare in this state unless Dust let them actually unwind for longer than ten minutes. Gritting their teeth, they shuffled out from under Dust’s shadow and made steps back for the kitchenette, feeling as much as seeing Dust shadowing their path.
“pretty sure you’re sick.”
“No, I’m not. I’m tired, I’m sore from work and Cross’ training, and I have a headache. That’s not sick.”
Now it was Dust’s turn to grit his teeth, a growl escaping as his shoulders tensed up. He lingered in the doorway to the kitchenette, eyelights following Aspen as they dropped the mug into the sink with a bare rinse and then brushed past him towards their room.
“you need to rest.”
“I’ll be fine, I just need-”
“that wasn’t me askin'.”
Aspen paused, began to turn to give Dust a look and a piece of their mind (they were so tired), only to jump to find his eyelights right up by their face. Stumbling, they fell into his grip, the blanket in his arms wrapping around them. It was awkward and more than a bit rough, feeling like he was ensnaring them in a net more than a large fluffy blanket. The fabric pinned their arms in place, leaving Aspen wriggling on the floor underneath Dust.
“Hey! What the fuck?!” they spat up at him in confusion, lips wrinkling into a bared teeth snarl.
“you aren’t gonna be able to do shit if you keep driving yourself into the ground.” He sat down, squarely on their torso. “you’re a little squishy, feeble, fragile human. your lot break way too easily to let that be a risk.”
Was that what this was? Dust telling Aspen that you weren’t good enough to be part of the team? Their wriggling intensified, bringing with it a renewed storm of coughs that seemed to leave their breathing even more ragged than before.
Dust’s expression didn’t budge, and neither did the rest of him.
“Let me go,” Aspen wheezed out. “I can’t - I won’t -”
“can’t what?” Dust deadpanned, head tilting to the side. Oh, the hot anger surged around Aspen's chest and through their itchy throat, squeezed out by the pressure inside their temples.
“I can’t look like I’m weak, even though you all think I am!”
Silence. Aspen's breath hitched, and prompted another cough.
Dust slowly reached out and tapped a metacarpal on their nose.
“don’t say that shit,” he muttered. “not about us. not about you.”
Rolling his weight off of their body, he leaned over and for a moment it looked he was going to free them from this blanket. Instead he hefted an arm underneath them, rolling them up and over his shoulder.
“you got any plans?”
“I - what?”
“good, they’re all cancelled. c’mon.”
As if Aspen had any say in the matter at this point. They tried to wriggle at least one more time, but Dust was barely phased as he carried them through to their room. He had the decency to grab their travel bag before kicking open their closet door with a toe and stepping inside.
And then gravity
Went
Down
And
Sideways
That was something Aspen would never get used to, however many times it happened. They closed your eyes against the brief presence and pressure of Nothing, before squinting open into the darker, cooler space of Nightmare’s castle.
Dust was quickly on his way again, the sickly jolt that came from a shortcut throwing Aspen off as the stone corridor abruptly became a well-lit bedroom that they recognised as their own, personal guest room. With an easy shrug, he tossed them off his shoulder onto the bed. They attempted some more wiggles to free themselves, but he tapped their sternum with a sharp tut.
“nope. you’ve lost arm privileges.”
“What do you mean I’ve ‘lost arm privileges’?” Bewilderment returned in waves as Aspen spluttered confusion up at Dust.
“i mean you’re on bed rest and staying on bed rest and because of your dramatic bullshit earlier you’ve lost arm privileges until i say so,” he replied bluntly. Aspen rolled their eyes, flopping their head backwards onto the pillows.
“I can’t go on bed rest, I need to talk to-”
“yeah, yeah, you keep saying how you need to go talk to nightmare and stroke his ego about keeping his fancy human running to his beck and call.” Dust audibly gagged, and tapped Aspen's nose again. “i’ll deal with the gooey pants man. your job for today is to stay here. if you try to get free, i’m not gonna be as nice as I am now about your arms privileges.”
This time around, Aspen decided not to test Dust’s patience.
Sagging into the bed some more, they glanced off to the side, looking away from him. Try as they might, being horizontal in your guest bed was definitely feeling like the nicer option the more they lay there, practically enfolded in comfortable blankets and soft mattress. Their grumbling muscles were appeased for sure. And if they closed their eyes, maybe the tension headache would have more reason to calm down and move along.
“You gonna be my nurse or something?” Aspen joked, glancing up as Dust moved away from their bed. He glanced back, eyelights squinting in a brief moment of disgust, before waving his hand dismissively.
“nah. axe can do that.”
Well, Aspen wasn’t going to need arms if Axe was going to be shovelling soup and tea down their throat. But they could live with that. Curling up as best they could in this blanket burrito, they rolled onto their side and got comfortable.
“....Thank you.”
The empty room gave a resounding response to their soft gratitudes.
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Eric turns into the baking supplies aisle, tapping his thumb against the cart in rhythm with the Christmas music playing overhead.
He hadn’t intended to stop at the grocery store on his way home; after slipping on a patch of ice in front of a school field trip on his way to work, dropping and shattering his favorite work mug in the break room between meetings, and being told for the umpteenth time that another client has gone with another publisher, Eric, if you don’t start showing improvement then we’re going to have to look at other alternatives, all Eric wanted to do was go home and take a long, warm bath. Start that food critic’s memoir he picked up at a flea market a few weeks ago. Maybe—finally—clean out and reorganize his disaster of a spice cabinet, something to take his mind off things.
Just forget this day ever happened.
But then his editorial assistant accidentally deleted one of their client’s manuscripts while performing a mass exodus of unused files, and just like that, Eric went and cried in the bathroom because the day officially got worse than he ever thought it could get.
By some miracle, Dex down in IT had been able to find an old save of the file on the system’s hard drive. It didn’t have most of the notes Eric added for corrections or changes, nor did it have any of his assistant’s annotations. Really, it was the most bare-bones copy, but it was the entire manuscript in it’s most recent glory.
For that, Eric would’ve kissed Dex right then and there.
He loves Nursey too much to do that, though, so instead he did what he always does: he hugged Dex tightly, asked him what his favorite dessert was (snickerdoodle cookies), and at five o’clock he took the Green Line to West End and walked a few blocks to the best Whole Foods in Boston.
“Now you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eric murmurs, standing in front of the rather unfortunate-looking flour selection. Usually, there’s a complete inventory of all types—bread, whole wheat, all-purpose, self-rising, pastry—and that’s half of the reason Eric goes twenty minutes out of his way to shop here. Yet all that’s before him now is a couple of bags of all-purpose and a full row of cake flour.
Great. As if this day couldn’t get any better.
He pulls the shopping cart close as a family enters the aisle and considers his options. Normally, he prefers using a half-and-half combination of whole wheat and all-purpose, but after last week’s batch of pancakes, he’s out of whole wheat. He could get the cream of tartar and ground cinnamon now and stop at the Stop & Shop near his apartment for the flour, but that place is hit-or-miss at best, and with how his day’s going he doubts they’ll have any in stock either.
Maybe he could forgo whole wheat flour this one time and just go with the all-purpose, but he really does love the taste it gives, not to mention it adds a bit more nutritional value. Nursey has been going on and on about how Dex is trying to eat healthier after losing his college-athlete physique, and—damn, maybe Eric should’ve offered to make something other than a dessert. Is it too late to call and ask if Dex would rather have some homemade protein bars? But then Nursey messaged Eric right before he left work with a bunch of crying emojis, thanking him and saying he was definitely going to steal some of the cookies from Dex, even though Eric’s pretty sure Dex would give Nursey most of them anyway, and—
“Bittle?”
Eric startles.
Looking up, he stares at the man before him for a moment before his heart skips a beat.
“Jack?” He asks dumbly, because it is Jack, standing there in an old, threadbare Samwell hoodie with a ball cap pulled low on his head.
He’s a little soft around the edges and worn down in that way all professional athletes are after retirement, but he’s still unmistakably Jack Zimmermann with that small little quirk of a smile and the way his eyes are piercingly blue in the fluorescent lighting of the store. His hair still curls around the ear like it did whenever he used to let it grow out but there are flecks of gray in his temple now. His jaw, even after all these years, is still so pronounced but it’s not as sharp as it was back at Samwell, hidden under a layer of scruff. He’s still wearing god-awful yellow sneakers, except they’re a newer pair from a different brand, bright and spotless.
“Hey, Bittle,” Jack says, warmer and surer.
Eric uncrosses his arms. “Jack,” he says again, feeling himself smile, “gosh, I can’t believe it’s—it’s been so long! Jack! How are you?”
On a reflex, Eric steps forward to hug Jack, and there’s this absolutely mortifying moment where he realizes he’s going to hug Jack Zimmermann, the Jack Zimmermann he hasn't spoken to in seven years, the Jack Zimmermann he hasn't seen outside of the NHL Network in ten.
But then Jack meets him halfway, pulling him into a hug with both arms wrapped around Eric’s shoulders, and it’s like the last decade never happened, the weight rolling off his shoulders as easily as could be. It’s like Eric’s back in Providence, back in Samwell. It’s Jack’s apartment and the front porch of the Haus and the bed of Coach’s truck in the thick Georgia humidity.
(It’s being in love with your best friend.)
“I’m good,” Jack says, his chest rumbling. “Great, actually.”
He pats Eric’s shoulder once and with that, they pull away from one another. “That’s good,” Eric says, pulling his shopping cart closer so he can lean an elbow against the handle. “How’s retirement been? It’s been, gosh, almost a year now?”
“Just about. It'll be a year this February."
“You miss it?”
Jack tilts his head. “Eh,” he drawls out, “honestly yeah, I do. But, well…”
He gestures down toward his knee, and it takes Eric a few seconds to remember that Jack's retirement had more to do with an unfortunate check and less to do with the fact he was thirty-seven. Eric immediately backtracks. “Oh, shit—lord, excuse my language, I didn’t mean—”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Jack chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets. “The knee has its days, but besides that, it's good as new.” He pauses. “Sort of.”
Eric’s blushing ‘till high noon, he’s sure of it. "Well that's good, then," he says.
It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas starts playing overheard and they stare at each other for another awkward beat. Finally, Jack clears his throat. “But, uh, how have you been? I think Shitty said you were at…Morris…”
“Morris Press,” Eric says, pulling at the skin between his thumb and forefinger, mentally slapping his cheeks. He’s usually never this bad with talking. “But yeah! I’ve been there for six years or so now, it’s a really great job. Helping others do what I always dreamed of is just, you know, a really fulfilling feeling.”
“I bet,” Jack says, and he’s got the little smile on his face again.
Another, not-as-awkward beat.
“I mean, I never thought I’d go into publishing, but…,” Eric starts, and he doesn’t mean to ramble, really; it’s an accidental slip that he starts going on about his job and his coworkers, the projects he’s helped publish, how publishing his own cookbook right out of Samwell led to now, just talking Jack’s poor ear off in the middle of the store. Jack gives his little comments here and there, like he used to, and doesn’t once make Eric feel like he’s holding him, and that—that’s exactly why Eric finds he can’t stop himself. The easiness of it, how natural and comfortable it is. How the warmth of a dormant love flares somewhere in Eric’s chest because it’s different but it’s not.
He doesn’t stop until an older woman cuts in asking to get to the flour, and Eric takes a breath. “Goodness, I rambled there,” he laughs. “I suppose things haven’t changed all that much.”
Jack hums, looking at Eric with this unreadable, nearly intense expression that Eric would describe as soft, probably. If he looked into it too much. He’s nearly about to let Jack go so he can go home and panic-bake a pie and call Lardo about this entire day when Jack suddenly says: “Would you want to get coffee or lunch or—or something, sometime?”
Eric falters.
Then he decides that, maybe, this day isn’t a total bust.
#omgcp#omgcheckplease#zimbits#my writing#literally haven’t written in so long#and i found the beginning of this in my drafts#so i was like -- what better way to get back into the swing of writing!!!#anyway i know next to nothing about publishing. also if morris press doesn’t have an office in boston let’s just pretend they do
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MEETING YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME
atsumu x reader
today could not possibly have gone any worse. a film producer should reach out because the amount of unbelievable events that happen to you on days like today need to be recorded.
first, it was the classic flat tire which made you late on your way to your big interview. next, your coffee got spilled on your favorite white button down blouse. and frankly it was all downhill after that.
which leads us to why you are currently standing in a grocery store aisle at 9pm scouring for your favorite snack. you have earned this damned treat and you are determined to find it. unfortunately, it looks like your grocery store reorganized so everything is out of place.
after skimming the shelves for about five minutes, the familiar blue packaging pops into view. except it’s attached to a hand that’s currently placing it into a basket.
you scurry over trying not to seem as desperate as you feel right now. “excuse me, where did you get those cookie crisps?” the panic in your voice is clear.
when your eyes rise to question the person in front of you, you freeze. he’s hot. as in his face belongs on the cover of a magazine hot.
his lips turn up into a smirk at your staring. and as if this day couldn’t get any worse, he turns to point to an empty shelf in the corner.
“i’m pretty sure these were the last ones.” he says so casually, as if this was not the bit of sanity left you were clinging onto. you grip his arm with both hands prepared to get down on your knees and beg.
“listen here buddy, i really really need those cookies. what will it take for you to hand them over.” his eyebrows raise in shock. clearly he wasn’t expecting to run into an insane person on his grocery run, but your day hasn’t exactly gone to plan either.
he glances down in his basket and chuckles at your desperation over a snack. his biceps flex while your eyes travel over the hot stranger in front of you. at least you get some eye candy to top off your bad day.
“i’ll share them with ya.” he decides. you’re caught in a staring contest as your brain tries to comprehend how you got stuck in this position.
any other day you would have given up and walked home, but this was a matter of principal.
“no, i won’t share. these cookie crisps are mine, i have earned them so please do what’s right and hand them over. trust me, you don’t want to see what happens next if i don’t have a cookie in my mouth within two minutes,” you’re talking at the speed of light and don’t care how deranged you sound.
he looks amused and shakes the packet in front of you to taunt you, “well if you need them so bad i guess you’ll have to settle for sharing. unless you don’t want any at all.”
he struts down the grocery store aisle and you have no choice but to trail behind him. considering your options, you decide following this stranger is probably better than losing yet another battle today.
after catching him glancing several times while checking out, he finally finishes and pays. after a few steps out of the door he opens the package and hands you a cookie. “don’t want to test you, i’m not in the mood to be murdered tonight.”
the cookie is eaten and gone before he can even finish his sentence. your hands grab for the package while he raises it above his head, making you reach up on your tippy toes.
“are you going to jump for it?” he teases. after a day like this, violence is not out of the question. never in your life have you contemplated hitting someone because of sweets.
he sees you pause and decides to head to his car before you get any bright ideas. the passenger door is held open for you to get in. honestly, being murdered doesn’t sound so bad after everything else you’ve dealt with today so you sit down quickly.
after he slides in the drivers side, he hands you the package of cookies before grabbing one himself. “so what’s your name?”
#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu headcanons#atsumu hcs#atsumu imagines#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu#atsumu fluff#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader
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I hate to do this, but not asking for help is how I ended up with tens of thousands in medical debt to begin with and I'm getting desperate.
So, hi. I'm Sam. I'm a queer, autistic & ADHD living with mountains of medical debt that has accrued after working a decade at a job I believed in for just pennies, with nothing to show for it but burnout and depression. (Yes, I know there are charities that buy medical debt. I did not know about them before I took advice from An Adult That I Trusted and Thought Was Smart years ago now, who said just put it on a credit card. I have learned and suffered for that mistake)
Fortunately, I've got a good job now. Unfortunately, that doesn't solve all my problems overnight. Currently, I have about $36 to my name, which isn't even mine if you think about it (see: debt), and I don't get paid for a week. I'm working on the Big Shit, but there are two things I really need help with:
Immediate: I have a car payment coming out today for $156 that I can't cover
Less Immediate, but still looming: I NEED to have my wisdom teeth out. I've put them off for a long time, and I'm currently dealing with a lot of pain as I wait for the appointment next month. Insurance came back with them covering half, but that still leaves $1400 out of pocket.
I thought I had everything budgeted a little better this month, and all I had to worry about was the upcoming wisdom teeth appointment. I had a small car issue (tires needed replaced) and I forgot my rent went up this month and not next.
This is a huge ask, and I know we're all struggling, so I'm not asking for that full amount.
That dental appointment is the soonest I can get in, at the least expensive office that takes my insurance, so moving to a different doc isn't an option. They DO offer payment plans, however they only offer 6 months, and the full amount is too much of a monthly payment for me to make and still pay rent/make car payments/feed my cats.
If I can make that first payment on the day as big as I can, and cut the monthly payments, that would be an immense relief.
SO, my goal is $600, if at all possible, in the long run, so I don't lose everything
But my immediate, PLEASE if you can, so I don't lose my car or miss rent or get hit with overdraft fees that will just hit me even harder goal is:
$200
This would get my car payment and a little extra to get as many cheap, non perishable groceries as I can so I don't have to worry about what I'll eating the next few months.
If possible, literally anything is a huge help and amazing. If not possible, a little boost would be amazing.
If you would like to receive an actual, physical thing—like, say, a cussy piece of embroidery—you can go buy something from my Etsy store. Stock is limited, cuz I have been working enough that I haven't had time to make a lot of things or get new supplies, but I have some stupid mushroom earrings I can add to the shop, too, when I get a moment, and some stone jewelry that I made and have been meaning to sell for YEARS.
I also have a comic that I haven't updated in forever, because of the aforementioned busyness, burnout and stress. So I will draw you a little robot or something if you donate if you want
Here is a pic of my cats, they would also appreciate eating
Thanks for taking the time to read, I greatly appreciate that, too 💚
I put my links under the cut, so they're not just out there in case this post travels past my need of it
Venmo @ SamFoShoBro
cashapp $SamFoShoBro
Message for paypal. I have it, I just don't like using it.
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Hello I am going to BOSTON this week and I am curious as to ur opinion on the best/ideal Boston Souvenir for Friends &c
Also what is ur go-to place to eat? Unfortunately when looking for food in other cities you get lovely curated lists of 25 Very Expensive Places that try to convince you a $30 is a one-dollar-sign sort of meal…
The ideal souvenir is something you think they'd enjoy! I don't know your friend, so I can't really say. Personally, I enjoy shopping for friends and family at the city's antique stores (especially Cambridge Antique Market on the other side of the river), but that only works if your loved ones like antiques as most of mine do. But Beacon Hill Chocolates does have chocolate bars with the city stamped on them, and they're really good. So that could be a safe bet if you're really stumped.
My go-to place to eat is unfortunately My Apartment With Food I Bought From The Grocery Store. It's expensive eating out here, so I do it very rarely. But I have many go-to places for little cafe treats, primarily Tatte and Flour (local chains). Tatte's hot chocolate is to die for- I know it's the wrong season, but maybe if you drink it inside the store where it's air-conditioned? Or come back again when it's cold outside and have it!
I take visiting friends to Quincy Market a lot for food; some people say it's touristy and it's definitely pricey for what it is, but as more of a food court-type place, it's going to be cheaper than a lot of sitdown restaurants. Try MMMac and Cheese, a stall that specializes in exactly what it sounds like- mac and cheese with different mix-in options.
Hope you enjoy the city!
#I do eat out north of the river sometimes because I have a number of friends who live there and who I visit often#love Mike's in Davis Square and Masala near Powderhouse#there's also a really good Thai place in Central Square but I forget the name
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"Fuck," she muttered to herself as she spit out some blood at the end of the street. It was around two in the afternoon. Which was probably the safest time to go out rummaging the abandoned grocery store for some food for the week. What she forgot to consider was that during the end of the world, it being the safest these days didn't mean there'd be zero danger involved. All things were working out just fine for the most part and she was on her way home when a couple of thugs decided to jump her for the food she had just found. Unfortunately for them, Sol could hold her own. She managed to escape them, but not without a couple blows to the face. Her busted lip was throbbing and her nose had only finally stopped bleeding. She glanced upwards and sighed in relief. At least she was back home now to tend to her wounds. A lot of people from the apartment building had chosen to leave to try to be with friends or family before the whole world went to shit. Sol didn't really have anyone else, so staying here was her only option. But that meant that the building was as quiet as ever. Inside the building, she was walking towards her apartment door, not noticing that one of her water bottles and fallen out and began to roll away, too focused on dealing with the throbbing pain.
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pairing: jean kirstein x f!reader
content warnings: none really for this chapter, mentions of anxiety & depression
word count: 2.5k
find chapters 1-3 RIGHT HERE on: wattpad
summary of book: Jean Kirstein has no interest in girls. He'd tried dating and found himself often bored before the end of the evening. Competing for captain of The University of Trost's lacrosse team, there is no shortage of women available to him but he'd rather be on the field. Unfortunately for him, it's the off season. (Y/N), however, found herself feigning ignorance about her desire to love deeply and be loved even deeper. After her first day at college, her hopes for the school year diminished greatly until she grew to know Jean.
summary of chapter: It’s (Y/N)’s first day at the University of Trost. Having gone through most of highschool keeping to herself, she suspects that college will be just the same. However, she runs into an old friend and discovers that college may not be as easy to avoid people in. (Y/N) begins to suspect she’s going to have a long year at college, thanks to her picking what would be the worst seat in psych class.
note: this is going to be a slow burn with many chapters, i am hoping for at least 30. although this is a jean fic, i will be potentially exploring a connie plot line. this story will contain topics of mental health/illnesses, suicide/death, grief, violence, drugs & alcohol, sex and other sensitive subjects. i will do my best to give you a warning ahead of time.
_____________________________________
of lilacs & lacrosse
chapter 1.) first day
I'd say the funny thing is that I'd say I'd never given too much thought about how I'd fall in love, but that would be too much of an easy lie to spot. Love was all around me. It was in the movies, the songs, it was on the train and in the grocery store. I was frustrated when it didn't come to me in highschool, when a mysterious, pale man hadn't approached me, like the media had taught me. Where was my love and was it worth the wait?
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I've known these people since middle school, of course not every single one of them, but the ones that mattered, I'd known them. Hell, I'd even been friends with them at some point. Why was it so hard now? Was it the fear of saying something silly or more simply, the fear of being less than enough? More than enough?
These thoughts kept me up the entire night before the first day of college. I'd woken up in sweats, in screams even. I told myself, college would be no different than highschool and I'd be alright.
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Beep, beep, beep.
That's it, it's time.
I yawn, my ears pissed off from hearing the never relenting alarm of my phone. Panic filled me.
Why?
I've been settled into my dorm for quite some time, it was nothing special but nothing to be ashamed of either. I pull the blankets off of me and swing my legs over the edge of my bed, which seemed to not want to let go of me, but very well could have been my own reluctance wanting to keep me in place. My bare feet hit the ground and I inhale.
It's just an 8 a/m class, (y/n). Just an 8 a/m. No matter the first day or not.
I tiptoe across the cold, hardwood floor. Opening my closet, I'm surprised at the lack of options for my first day of college, even though I was the one who had done the lack of college shopping. I wasn't going to complain, I'm not the type of person who cared so much about clothing and having the newest things. I was okay wearing clothes from highschool. It's not like anybody would actually notice. A simple outfit would do for the day. A black t-shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, and nothing more, except for a hair tie to keep half of my mess up. And shoes, of course shoes. My black and white converse sat on the floor, under my massive collection of black clothes. Pick me, they called. I grab my sneakers and bundle my clothes under my arm, shutting the closet doors behind me. I slip my choices over me and look in my bedroom mirror. Smoothing out non-existent wrinkles, I can't help but let my mind think. My eyes meet my own.
Was I afraid? Was I confident? Would anyone else be able to tell?
Stop it, (y/n.) You'll get nowhere, I tell myself abruptly.
My clothes are satisfactory enough. There is nobody I need to impress today and I'm okay with that. I'm not looking to make friends, just looking to make it through one class. I look at myself in the mirror, tugging my hands over places I'd hope nobody would look at. My steps to the bathroom are as sad as I'd imagined they'd be last night, trying not to make any sound although I'm the only one who could hear. Makeup bags sit on the white bathroom sink with various beauty products strewn about. I grab my go-to bag and unzip. My fingers fumble in the makeup bag on the counter. Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.
What if they don't like you?
Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.
Who's they, (y/n)? You don't actually really know anybody. Besides, I thought you weren't looking to impress anybody and you were just fine with that.
Mascara, foundation, eyebrows, lip gloss.
My hands tremble with the mascara wand.
"Fuck, shit." My lips part before I know. Dots of black cloud my eyes. In the mirror, I frown. I bite my lip, I'd already fucked up with nobody around. I feel a growing black cloud in my brain.
No big deal, (y/n). Clean it up, it's alright.
I grab a q-tip, quickly turn on the faucet and wet it under the water. I begin to blur away my mistakes. I bring the q-tip up to my face, relentlessly poking at the lingering black marks upon my face.
Go away, go away, I'll be late, I plead.
Eventually, the gods oblige to my demands. My eyelashes, and myself, are happy. My fingers find themselves once again fumbling in my makeup bag for a probably expired foundation. Even though I don't remember the last time I had actually gone and bought foundation, I don't have the heart to check the date, but there's no way I'm going to my classes on the first day without any face makeup. I pour a bit of my foundation on the back of my hand to warm it up before applying it straight to my face. I dip my beauty blender into the cream and bring it to my face. I'm staring straight into the mirror.
Who is this? It's me, idiot. It's always been me. Stop thinking.
I tune out the rest of my thoughts before I finish my foundation. I place the container back into my bag, and dig around for my eyebrow brush. Not like I actually do anything to my eyebrows, but somehow brushing them out creates a false sense of security.
Brush your eyebrows, (y/n), nothing bad will happen today. Oh please, brush your eyebrows (y/n), you've saved the world from eternal damnation.
My eyebrows are clean, sleek, and saving the world from an intergalactic attack. Eyebrow brush back in the bag, I search for my lip gloss. It was nearly a clear, transparent lip gloss but hey if it made my lips shiny, someone was bound to notice, right?
Right.
I'm looking in the mirror, I'm satisfied. My lip gloss is good and the shade of black my shirt is, well, black. No time to reflect on that. I head out of my bathroom, which I am grateful for the fact there's nobody to share it with. I'd somehow gotten lucky finding a cheap apartment I could afford without having a roommate and didn't have to settle for a college dormitory. This, however, did have its downsides. The place is quiet and I find myself staring. My kitchen is missing a sense of home. I shake away the fact and think about what I want for breakfast.
Pancakes? Eggs? Both? Nothing? Oatmeal?
There's no use. I hate the kitchen. I don't want to make anything for myself. I don't want to use any of my good, hard earned money for breakfast. I grab my black Jansport backpack that I purposely left on the counter last night. I would have forgotten it if I left it in my room but I can always count on myself to have a good old fashioned kitchen crisis. I stand in my kitchen, looking around.
I hate this.
I grit my teeth, unsure of how to be a person without anybody else around me. I made the heavy decision that heading out the front door is best for me. My steps to the door are heavy, unchanging and solid. I shut the door to my apartment. The hallway is cold and unforgiving of crimes I've never committed.
I'm sorry, college apartment, I'll never do it again.
Another thing I had gotten extremely lucky with regarding my apartment, was that I could walk to the campus in under ten minutes, five if I decide to really put some pep in my step. Outside my building, the leaves are still green and wanting to hold onto the summer. I stand under the overhang and pull out my phone from my pocket.. The weather app tells me it's 79 degrees, which is typical for the beginning of September in Trost. Maybe even a bit cooler. I pull some earbuds out of the mesh bindings on the side of my backpack. Untangling them is a challenge but the bigger challenge is deciding what to listen to.
[play: To All Of You- Syd Matters]
The campus is bigger than I expected. Maybe it would have been smart to have come by earlier and taken a look. The main building looks like a museum, it's built of brick and there are students everywhere I look. Most people are smiling and walking with a friend. I take everything in as I walk. There's a girl with purple hair sitting at a green metal picnic table, the kind that had holes and people would get their fingers stuck in. Her fingers are free as she dances a pencil across a black notebook. The leaves are blowing and I try not to think about the fact that nobody else is thinking about me. The grass is very green and for that, I am thankful. Nothing is dead. My steps are silent to me as I near the entrance. A boy walks in before me. He is wearing a black sweatshirt with the number nine in white on it. I cannot see his face and he doesn't look back to see mine. He does not hold the door for me. Upon reaching the door, I am cruelly reminded that nobody waits for you. I am alone. The door handle is cold in my grasp. My first and only class today is psychology, because who doesn't love their brain being fucked with at 8 am?
Nostalgia hits my nose when I step inside. It's cooler than it was outside and the lockers are blue. The floor is tiled and white with gray specks underneath my black shoes. Students are leaning against lockers, some people are completely frozen in time and others are bustling. I scurry to the side of the hallway to stay out of the way. I pull my phone out and look at my lock screen that I had previously set to a screenshot of an email reminder from my teacher. My psych class was on the first floor in one of the lecture halls. The time at the top of my phone reads 7:50. I put it back in my pocket and make my way down the hallway. I am able to find the room quite easily.
Nobody stands out to me as I pass through the doorway. It seems to be mostly carbon copies of the same brainless girls who would spew about how they'd change the world with their non-existing compassion. My eyes flicker across the room, trying to find a spot that would be the least painful to sit in. I don't want to sit completely alone in the back but I don't want to sit directly next to anybody either. I found a seat in the somewhat crowded room. It was towards the back but closer to the middle section and it was an aisle seat, closest to the wall with nobody occupying the seat next to it. A girl with brown hair sat just next to the empty seat. I wonder if she made the same game plan as me. I walk up the steps to my seat and sit. Quickly, I turn my head, wanting to see who is sitting with me. I can't see her face. Her head is tilted down and her phone is resting on the desk. She is focused on whatever it is she's doing. I turn my head back and take my headphones out of my ears then unplug them from my phone. 7:59. The professor was not here yet.
"Y/n?"
My head instinctively whips to the right, completely startled. My eyes zooming across the features of the person who called my name.
God, who knows me here? And who was it that remembers me?
Her skin is sun-kissed tan, or maybe it was natural. Blurts of freckles were clinging to her slim cheeks and small, pointy nose. Her hair is brown and brushed out of her face into a ponytail, a few pieces escaping the clutch of the loose hair tie. Eyelashes dark and the bags under them too. I have to peel my eyes away from her face. She's wearing a baggy black shirt and jean shorts. My eyes travel back upwards to look at hers. That's when I recognized her.
"Oh my god, Ymir?" She smiles and tilts her head at me.
"It only took you about, hm..." She looks down at an invisible watch on her wrist. "Thirty minutes."
Ymir and I were friends when we were younger. Actually, we were really close. She was even my first kiss. We used to be inseparable but I grew up and she grew mean. It was when highschool came around that I began to hate being around. She was just cruel to me, to herself, and to others. It was draining to even just exist in her cesspool of hate. Ymir could be sweet when she had wanted to be but it was rare to receive any love or support. However, when she loved me, she really loved me. She'd hold me so tight I was afraid I'd shatter but without her arms around me, I'd have shattered anyway. It was sophomore year when she had met a girl. Meeting Historia was the complete end of us. We weren't in love or anything simple of the sort, but it would have been nice of her to think about me first, or think of me at all.
"I'm so sorry, you surprised me, that's all." I hope my eyes aren't as wide as I think they are. A smirk still lingers on her face. She really was beautiful even after all these years. Ymir put her arms behind her head and stretched a bit. There was a tattoo of a triangle right above the inside of her elbow. I wonder what that meant.
Was it just a triangle? Maybe she had a matching one with Historia. Side note, I completely forgot her and I have matching shitty tattoos, just little stars by our ankles. We'd always wanted to go to a shop together to get professional ones but Ymir's garage was as classy as it got.
"How've you been?"
"Ah, (y/n.) I knew you'd be here, I bet your brainy ass is already psycho-analyzing me." She put her arms on the table in front of us.
Would she ever stop smiling?
"Why are you here? And I've been good, thanks for asking." I don't know if I'm making a playful joke or being snarky.
"I wouldn't mind learning a few tricks to get into people's heads. Besides, this class looked the most entertaining and you're here, so it must be my lucky day." She slides into the seat next to me. She leaned in close to me. "Are you wearing makeup?" This was going to be the longest class of my life.
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