#but that's not really an option at the grocery store unfortunately

[tj-crochets]

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

[stwritings]

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 ♡

-

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

[familyvideostevie]

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

[appalamutte]

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

[beangfrisky]

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

[hereforsterekcontent]

Imagine this sign at the entrance to the preserve lmao

There are so many options as to who would put it there...

...maybe Laura (in an alive hale family scenario) because she REALLY doesn’t need to see her teenage brother and his little boyfriend awkwardly exchange handjobs ever, and that means EVER, again. God this is worse than when she walked in on him masturbaring years ago and she still hasn't completely recovered from that. Although "nice panties, Stilinski!" she can't help tease, pointing at his batman boxers. "Laura!" Derek screeches , frantically trying to get the zipper of his jeans up while simultaneously trying (and failing) to shield Stiles from his sisters looks. "Thanks Laur!" the idiot himself laughs. "STILES!" Derek looks scandalised and okay maybe embarrassing him is worth the nightmarish images she will now have to live with a little bit. She always liked the Sheriffs kid. What she can't, however, live with, is catching her uncle in a quite similar, if not slighlty more compromising situation with..."Oh my god is that Allison Argents DAD?? Uncle Peter what is wrong with you, he's married! YOU are married!" She puts the sign up right after that incident (and after snitching on uncle Peter to her mom). Enough's enough. Unfortunately some of her younger siblings inevitably stumble upon the sign and after asking their parents what "fuck" meant at the dinner table, with the Sheriff present mind you, Misses Hale makes her take it down immediately, scalding her especially strictly, considering the towns Sheriff (and their very likely future in-law) is present. If Laura tells them about her initial reason (stumbling upon Derek and Stiles) to get them off of her case and distract them, it's not her proudest moment, but well you gotta do what you gotta do and seeing her brothers eyes widen with fear is admittedly a nice bonus.

...Maybe Derek after he had to stumble upon yet an other pair of teenagers making out there when he justed wanted to to go for a nice little evening run. Stiles would obviously find it hilarious at first but also most definitely take it as a challenge. At one point they'd probably be patrolling the borders of the preserve after a particularly viscous fight with a coven of witches or something equally fucked and Stiles would jokingly initiate some making out wich would probably turn into either him blowing Derek or Derek fucking him against the sign. Either way Derek would somehow manage to leave clawmarks on it which, again, Stiles would be absolutely delighted over. The betas would probably shake their heads at him because he had forbidden them all from getting it on in the woods near his house since "just because we are part wolf doesn't mean we have to behave like wild animals, Erica " so what happened to practicing what you preach, boss? He'd be embarrassed but probably stand by it though, he's stubborn like that. If Derek wants to go to what is basically his back gardens and plow his mate into a tree or make out like teenagers with him in the flower field behind the old shed then he by all means will do so, it's his land . Also...he's the alpha goddammit >:(

...it admittedly does seem most like a Stiles thing to do though. Like he's not a werewolf, he can't hear or smell it (thank god for that one) from yards away if there's s someone doing the nasty behind a tree. No, poor, unsuspecting Stiles would have to inevitably stumble into what's going on resulting in him letting out a screech that would have Derek drop everything at the grocery store a town over and run to his mates aid. Because "Scotty, my pal, my brother, there is only so much our friendship can take. And having to see your bare ass in broad daylight is NOT one of them! Ugh hell no Allison, please tell me thats not-Oh hey babe, what are you doing here, I thought you went to get me icecr- woah what's going on with the fangs and the eyes did something happen??"

Anyways after one time to many he would eventually stalk towards the most popular make out spot, the sign in hand and hammer it into the ground without further explanation. It does speak for itself he reckons. Derek and the others would probably follow him and watch all amued. That is until Isaac jokingly says that no-ones going to listen to Stiles' sign anyways and Dereks eyebrows shoot up immediately communicating that his mates little sign will be taken seriously or else.... Also he's pretty sure Stiles is willing to make an exception for him....

#sterek #hale family #the hale pack #laura hale #hale family feels #petopher #disaster hales #sterek mates #my stuff

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

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?

————————————-

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.

————————-

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.

click here to continue reading

#jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein headcanons #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfic #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein x reader #aot headcanons #aot jean #jean aot #aot fluff #jean fluff #aot smut #snk headcanons #snk smut #jean fanfic #jean kirstein fanfic #jean x you #jean x y/n #eren headcanons #connie springer #connie springer fluff #jean fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #jean kirstein smut #snk jean #aot x y/n #aot x you

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

How did our meeting with them go?

Like our first time interacting with these funnybone boys

~♥️ anon

Well

Barry's the one who sells you your little fixer-uper of a cabin next to the spooky mansion on the hill. He kept saying shit like "Yeah, ever since the last tenants murdered the guy in that mansion and fled no one's wanted to buy it" He gives you a discount seeing how it's tied to a crime and needs quite a bit of elbow grease but you're sure you can make it a home

Joseph came as part of the deal with the house. No you don't get to keep him, unfortunately, but he helps you fix the place up and even offers you his couch if you ever need it. He doesn't talk, keeping a little not pad on him since he hasn't fully grasped sign yet. He's learned how to spell and write pretty fast from working in the post office

You meet Nick and Rory while getting some groceries, sure you could get bread from Barry's general store but the bakery smells so good you just have to see what they've got. Rory's a bit cold and grumpy when you first meet him but he's all smiles when talking to Nick, maybe he just needs to know you first? And Nick is very polite, walking you through the options of what they sell and totally not blushing when your fingers brush as he hands you your bread

You also meet Jack in the bakery. He offers to show you around town when you have a spare minute, it's not very big so it won't take too long. Once you take him up on the offer he's very helpful, pointing the few shops in town, telling you what you'll have to travel to get, and where everyone lives. The whole town is basically one big neighborhood so he doesn't really see it as odd. He also points out his and Rory's house, telling you you're welcome any time

While you're on your tour you run into Bo, literally. He's going so fast neither of you have time to react. When you shake off the panic you both realize you're lying on top of him and his tail starts to wag. Jack helps you up and Bo apologizes for bumping into you, but also treats you like you two are now best friends calling you his "bump buddy" and asking if you want to play any games with him

After such a long day you'd think you'd be able to sleep but alas,. Sleeping in a new bed is always hard but sleeping in a new house is just not happening tonight. You decide to sit on the porch to try and star gaze yourself into a coma when you see Ian. He has to walk past your cabin to get to the mansion and takes the time to introduce himself. Once he learns your plight he offers to take you with him, saying that the owners of the mansion don't sleep during the night either

Elias and Shaun are beaming at seeing a new face and Moonpie takes to you just as quick. The others in town know of them but with conflicting schedules they don't get too many visitors. Elias rushes off to the kitchen to make you some tea while Shaun takes you to their library to sit and talk. He says that they spend more time in here than in the actual sitting room. After Elias comes back with the tea Ian starts reading and acting out one of the books from the shelf

You're not sure when you fell asleep but you do know that you wake up in a very soft bed in a room that looks like it would fit right in with the rest of the mansion you fell asleep in. Elias comes in to check on you and tells you he couldn't just leave you on the couch! After leaving you only have a moment in your own home before there's a knock on the door. Jean introduces himself with a plate of cookies he clearly got from the bakery and a little bow. He's very princely about the whole thing, saying you shouldn't have to live in such filth while you fix the place up and offers to let you stay with him. He has a full guest room all made up for you if you'd ever like it

Once Joseph swings by to help with the house he also gives you your first letter! It's from a guy named Taylor, apperntly he lives in town and wants to try putting himself out there a bit. Not out there enough to come out of his house but it's a start. You two become the closest pen pals in history as you write back and forth nearly everyday. When you actually meet him he's got some big wet cat energy but he manages to hold conversation well enough

#♥️ anon #whispers of an angry god #funnybone au #sdj Jack #sdj Rory #sdj Jean #sdj Joseph #sdj Bo #sdj Shaun #sdj Ian #sdj Barry #sdj Elias #sdj Taylor

[poppyseedfics]

HAPPY 1 YEAR MY BELOVED CITRUS AUTHORS!!! 🍋🍊💗 May I request for kuro + grocery shopping from prompt list 3(domestic)? Remember the last fic about him? It was really AMAZING so here i am, wanting for more if you would. Thank you!♡

Thank you for the request! Kuro is quietly becoming someone I enjoy so this was fun! Hope you enjoy!

Grocery Shopping with you

Kuro Kiryu

When you asked Kuro to go with you to do some simple grocery shopping, he was quite surprised. He didn't reject of course and instead was quick to accept the offer. Any time spent with you was time he enjoyed.

Arriving at the doors to the store, you sheepishly told Kuro that the reason you'd asked him to come was because you had left your shopping late this week, and by now you were hungry. You knew if you went shopping alone, you'd end up piling your basket high with foods you didn't really need and would overspend for sure. Kuro was going to be your critical thinking.

The two of you began your cruise around the isles, enjoying some idle chitchat together. So far you'd managed to only stick to your normal purchases, basic things like milk, eggs and fruit- then things started to go downhill. As you sidled past a neat display, an item caught your attention. Suddenly your mind conjured a delicious meal that required it, and you could swear that nothing would taste better right now. As you reached for the item a voice startled-

"Do you really need that?"

You snapped your head to your rational thinking, a pout already coming to form on your lips.

"I could make something really nice with it! I haven't had it in forever…"

You began to pull your arm back, item in your grasp. Kuro just tilted his head forward, an expectant look across his face. Under his gaze you shrunk back, now reconsidering.

"Okay, how about this; If you can tell me 3 recipes you could use this in, you can have it."

Mouth hanging open, you fumbled for words. Your mind was scrambling to think- surely you knew more recipes for this!

When nothing came up, you accused the fact that you were put on the spot. It wasn't fair! Regardless, you put the item back, cursing yourself for your genius idea of asking Kuro. He was apparently very good at this.

Soon enough, however, you came upon another item that struck your fancy. Even as you reached for it you could tell Kuro was going to ask and so before he could, you turned to him and listed a few recipes you could use it in- and you were so excited about the prospect of it that you'd already turned around and begun scanning for the other items you'd need for those recipes- unfortunate for you, as Kuro had smiled so gently at your success.

This continued around the store, you picking up items and having to rationalise to Kuro to keep it. It became a game, although you didn't even mind if you lost because he'd started patting your head when you put something back. By the time you got to the check-out your basket was filled with an array of foods that would keep you fed and allowed for various options so you could make something that matched your tastes for the day.

"I don't think I've ever been as prepared for the coming week as I am right now… This is amazing! I should ask you to come with me every week Kuro~" You'd laughed to yourself, happy with your little joke.

"Well you usually shop on Fridays right? I'll be here your usual time."

#kuro kiryu x reader #enstars #ensemble stars #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #kuro kiryu #admin lemon

[bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls]

The Produce Aisle

Ask: “I think if you wrote something about, idk, pears, I’d be into it as well. I hope you know the power your writing has! Thank you for letting us enjoy it :)”

I know. I knew when I was a kid, and the words were clumsily effective. I knew as a young adult, when the words flowed gracefully but were insincere. And I know now, when my turn of phrase can turn worlds upside-down.

Artful language is magic; it is intention and revelation and passion, encoded, disseminated, and projected into foreign minds across infinite distances and years. It’s everyday sorcery, taught to children.

Oh, and challenge accepted.

[CONTENT NOTE: Here be dragons.]

The cart’s left-front wheel wobbled as it turned, which led to a rattle in the basket, and a vibration in her hands. She pressed her lips together and pushed ahead, feeling his gaze upon her as she bullied a broken thing through a store.

“Should we go to health & beauty first?” she asked, her helplessness masked by obsequiousness.

“Is there a concealer for your personality?” he replied, making a point of sounding faintly hopeful.

It was only today that he’d told her she was boring, so many months after moving in. Were she slightly braver, she might have wondered if he’d been stricken in the night; he’d awakened, sat upright in bed, gazed down at her squinting, sleepy face, and sighed. “I’m not sure if you’re worth it.”

Those were his exact words. She’d never heard them before, and would never be able to forget them.

And he hadn’t stopped there. On it went, throughout the day. Her every comment was vapid. Her every movement was clumsy. Her every feature was unfortunate. Her every thought was irrelevant. On a better day, with a moment to breathe, with a different man, she might have retreated or lashed out. As it was, she’d been unable to think of anything except how much he hated seeing her cry.

She gripped the cart tighter and willed the submission of a teardrop. It didn’t escape her that she could control little else.

He walked past her, deeper into the store. He would take a half-dozen steps, pause meaningfully, abruptly resume his stride, pause again… over and over. As she followed along with the cart, she was forced through an irregular cycle of starts, stops, and stares from other patrons. She could feel their communal judgment.

Until he spoke, and there was no room left in her world for the petty condemnation of strangers.

“Did we ever replace that remote that you lost? Or do we just not give a shit about my things?” he asked as he scanned the departments and aisles ahead of him.

The remote had gone missing a month ago. It might have been missing even longer; they wouldn’t know, because they seldom used it. They had apps. They had options. It was a cheap piece of plastic with no special functions. One of the buttons was stuck. And if you’d asked her a month ago, she’d have sworn she hadn’t touched it.

Now she was quick to assure him, “I’ve ordered a replacement! From the company!”

He looked at her and she looked away. There was nothing in his eyes she could bear to see.

“When will it be delivered?” he asked with exaggerated doubt, as if he’d just been told an obvious lie by an obvious child.

“No, really! Next— but, okay, so, the shipping was— it was going to be $20 shipping on, like, a $16 remote, so…” She trailed off, as she realized he didn’t want her rationalizations. He wanted a date. “Next week. I saved $12. I’m sorry.”

She thought she saw him smile for a moment, from the corner of her eye. “Whatever,” was all he said. It was the most comforting thing she’d heard all day.

“Do you—” she began, leaping into the first available silence. “Do you need anything from Home Improvement?”

“There’s nothing wrong with our home that a match won’t fix,” he muttered, just clearly enough to be perfectly intelligible.

Without warning, he turned to his right, and marched toward Groceries. She power-walked a step behind him, her mind filled with flames and failure.

Food had always been her responsibility, so she mindlessly rolled ahead into Produce, eyeing the prices and counting the week’s meals in her head. It felt good to feel competent. The day had contained so many things she could not understand, but this was a place and a task she knew.

She only stopped when she realized he had trailed behind. She didn’t need to look. She could feel his eyes, examining her body.

That much was nothing new; she’d always been able to feel his inspection, back when it meant he was about to sing her praises or growl her name. But she felt it even more now, when his gaze had a weight she could scarcely bear.

She took a deep breath, and normality beckoned. She thought to include him, to draw him into this sacred circle of the mundane. “Do you— would you like some fruit, daddy?”

She felt him looking at her, just as he had in bed. She heard him sigh, just as he had in the moment before he broke her heart. She could imagine him making a decision.

“Anything but fucking pears,” he said.

He seemed very sure about that.

#asks #stories #ancient #2021 #this one was deleted somehow #and the only copy was on my website #so it is hereby reuploaded

[all-that-jazz-93]

So I'm totally willing to engage yoy on this. You can also ignore me. 🤷🏾‍♀️ But if you have complaints about the Chicago transit system doesn't that mean it's not very good?

I think Chicago is annoyingly car centric. I don't think it's public transit is easy to use or well laid out. Nor do I think it's coverage is very good.

Isn't that a systemic issue? Chicago sold it's on street parking spaces to private companies that prevent them from installing more bus stops. Those companies jack up the prices while charging the city.

That's just one root problem but there are clearly many others.

Is it that you don't want to be reliant on the current system or on public transit in general? Wouldn't it be nice if all the options train, bus, car, street car/tram, bike, walking were all equally supported? Because thats not currently the case.

Why exactly are the people who want that supportive infrastructure annoying?

Honestly I made that post in frustration with the general anti-car sentiment I see around Tumblr sometimes, and then I Blazed it a few months later because I was having a bad day at work and I was pissed and I wanted someplace to direct my frustration, lmao. Low key regret Blazing it because dear god the amount of weird-ass conservatives and bigots I got in the notes was...unfortunate.

Anywho, I agree that Chicago's (and all) public transit could be better, but there's no amount of improvements that will make it any easier to lug bags of groceries--or the bags I've packed when I'm going across town for a dogsit, or really anything I have to carry--onto a bus or train when I would much rather put them in the trunk of my own car.

Having a car would also make it much easier to go shopping at multiple places, without having to carry all of my purchases around with me to every store I visit. If I've bought anything heavy or unwieldy at the first store I visit, then I pretty much have to take it home before I can comfortably go and do anything else.

Also sometimes I wanna go out and explore the suburbs, and that requires taking a Metra and a Pace bus and walking another mile on top of that, and the whole thing is ponderous and takes like two hours. If I wanna go to the suburbs I have to make a whole day of it, whereas if I had a car I could hop on the Expressway and be there in 30-45 minutes. Maybe an hour if traffic sucks.

To say nothing of travel. I'd like to be able to drive out-of-state and go visit other parts of the Midwest, or hell, even road trip out to Los Angeles sometime.

Basically I want a car for the personal freedom it would afford me that even the best transit system just can't. And I also want transit to be better. And sometimes the (admittedly small, but annoying) minority of people who act like transit is the end-all-be-all answer to everything just piss me off.

#asks #that car post from a while back that i shouldn't have blazed

[pctcrparker]

"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.

#sol #*starter #*starter:sol

[redgoldblue]

iffff you would still like to do the kiss roulette thing: 🎲 + s&h

(kiss roulette)

Hilariously, both you and ACL sent me S&H and both of your numbers were the #horny prompts. And while I probably could (and lowkey kinda did) find a way to make ACL’s not horny, this one is easier to twist.

“Starsky, you really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“The doctor said it was fine for me to do light work.”

“The pertinent word being light, Starsky. Not hiking halfway up a stepladder carrying a heavy painting.”

“I’m not carrying the painting anymore,” Starsky points out, obviously doing his best impression of someone who thinks that's a good argument.

“Only because there was no-one in the grocery store and I got home early. I could’ve come home to you collapsed on the floor with your stitches busted.”

“Oh, come on. It was one stab wound.”

“Stab wound, love of my life. Stab. Wound.” Hutch infuses the endearment with as much derision as he can, and judging by the glare Starsky shoots down at him, it comes through.

Hutch sighs and rests the painting against the wall. It's one of his, a sunset landscape of the hills that ring Bay City, that's been in exactly the same place - on the floor in the corner of the bedroom, along with a dozen others - ever since he painted it, and he would have been perfectly content to leave it there. But interior decoration is the latest thing Starsky's been driven to by the horrors of convalescence, and Hutch's walls are suffering the results.

"You know I don't even want that hanging up," he tries anyway, despite knowing it's useless.

"You should have at least one of your paintings up!" Starsky exclaims, and slaps the wall for emphasis. He's still on painkillers, which is another reason Hutch doesn't want him up a goddamn ladder. "They're good."

"The drugs sure are," Hutch mutters.

"The drugs are nothing. Your paintings are something."

Resting his hands on his hips, Hutch looks up at Starsky. "Are you going to come down?"

"Whaddayathink."

Hutch sighs. "Yeah." There are certain things in life one simply has to philosophically accept, and sometimes those things are your drugged and wounded partner on a stepladder. "Just- don't move, okay."

Starsky obediently pauses, with the hand he'd been waving around frozen in mid-air and a distinct sense of waiting for the audience reaction. Hutch gives him what he's looking for and laughs, because he's a sucker.

Starsky relaxes but, to his credit, stays still as Hutch backs off and assesses. Unfortunately, Starsky actually has picked the best spot for the painting - out of direct light but still bright enough to see it, in a wallspan large enough that it won't be dominated by it but not so large that it will look strange by itself. Meaning Hutch can't use that excuse to get him down and then possibly just tackle him onto the couch, which had been an option under consideration.

Sighing, he rests his left hand on Starsky's hip and brushes a kiss next to it, where the flannel he stole from Hutch's closet - and is wearing with one low button hanging on for dear life - has ridden up to expose soft skin.

"Ah-ah," Starsky chides, and twists to look down at Hutch and ruffle a hand through his hair. "You're not gonna distract me that easy."

That honestly hadn't been Hutch's intention - it had been more automatic reflex than anything - but he can't deny it would have been a valiant effort. "Okay, okay. Turn back around."

Hutch leans down to get the painting again, then steels himself to lift it to Starsky.

Who, of course, immediately grabs it and hoists it up like he wasn't bleeding in an alley in the foetal position a week ago. With a faint noise of protest, Hutch moves back as fast as he can and grabs hold of Starsky's hips to steady him, elbows on the top of the ladder to steady himself.

Grinning, Starsky takes one hand off the painting and waves it in the air. "Look, Ma, no hands!"

Hutch groans and buries his face against Starsky's lower back. "You're going to kill me. Or I'm going to kill you."

"Which one?"

"I still haven't decided."

Starsky's hand pats his shoulder comfortingly.

There's a few moments of silence where Hutch keeps Starsky gripped firmly and his eyes closed equally firmly and tries not to picture blood all over his nice clean rugs. Then Starsky says, "Ta-da!", shortly followed by, "Hutchinson, look at me."

"Do I have to?"

"You know, I'm liable to get offended if you don't. I'm very easy on the eyes, so I've been told."

"Don't believe everything you're told," Hutch mutters, for form's sake, but peels himself off Starsky's skin enough to look up. Starsky looks fine, complete with proud smirk and the painting hanging behind him. Having it up isn't going to help Hutch stop seeing the spot in the corner where the paint dried wrong and the stroke over the far right hill that went slightly left of where it should have been, but it's possible Starsky's unwavering enthusiasm might help him focus on the bits that went right as well.

"I still hate you," he tells him, and tugs on the bottom of his shirt.

Instead of coming down, Hutch's intended request, Starsky brushes his hands off enough to awkwardly shuffle around in place - which Hutch watches in long-suffering silence, braced to catch him - and sits down on top of the stepladder. He reaches for Hutch's shoulders. "Hey."

"Hello," Hutch obligingly parrots.

"I promise I'm not going to kill myself in your house under your supervision."

"It's a little late for that."

"I still gotta come down."

Hutch groans. "I will lift you."

"Yeah?" Starsky asks, waggling his eyebrows. "Where you gonna put me, sailor?"

"Somewhere soft and at ground level. Possibly with bars."

"Kinky." Smiling, Starsky twists his grip into Hutch's shirt and pulls him as close as he can get with the ladder still between them. He drops a glancing kiss to Hutch's lips, then says, "Am I allowed to kiss you, or are you too worried about busting my stitches?"

"Mm," Hutch grunts. "I'll allow it."

"Good to know." He moves one arm to wrap around Hutch's shoulders, then leans in again.

In the ensuing moments, Hutch almost manages to forget about the imminent danger to his walls, his rugs, and his partner.

#i really wrote you a. full advent calendar chapter. 1000 words. whoops #slightly justifies it taking a month anyway #i wasn't lying at SHarecon! this is soon! or close enough #this is also very much... advent calendar vibes anyway #Starsky & Hutch #Starsky and Hutch #fanfiction #fanfic #French Kissing Primetime Homos #mine #my writing #ask games #itwoodbeprefect

[auroraapple22]

Hello everyone, I am really in need of some financial help if anyone is able to do so. I have most of the rent for my apartment for October, but I’m $200 short. I’ve been late on the rent a few times recently, my landlord has been really understanding. So far, she thankfully hasn’t charged me any late fees.

I unfortunately lost my job recently, it’s a long story but the store manager Jan passed away in March. The assistant manager Angelina took over after that and everything rapidly started deteriorating. I was next in command after Angie and we had a few employees quit one after the other. On top of that, Angie was a horrible manager.

My coworker, Tad, who was an awesome employee despite only being part time due to the fact he was on disability. I was another employee with a very good work ethic and did a great job. Because of this, Angie began relying solely on Tad and I to basically do all the tasks that kept the store running. The entire night shift wasn’t really required to do anything, Angie would act like she gave them tasks to do and it wasn’t her fault if it didn’t get done. But it was Tad and my fault if we didn’t pick up the slack. Tad got injured at work and ended up with a hernia requiring surgery because Angelina expected him to put away freight orders worth $17,000 (for the size of the store where we worked, an order of that size during a four hour shift and she expected me to do everything else to keep the entire store running while he did that.

After Tad ended up needing surgery, my job got even harder than it already was. Angelina would have me work full 8 hr shifts with just her and I there until 2pm. She managed to stay in the back office doing I don’t know what for entire days at a time. Something I never saw Jan do and something I never did on Angie’s days off when I was acting manager. She would take literally 15 smoke breaks during an eight hour shift. That’s seems like an exaggeration but it’s probably an under estimate. She would act like she didn’t have time to give me a ten minute break knowing that she was the only other employee that she scheduled to be there and therefore the only way I would be able to take any break.

I started having really bad stomach issues, and shoulder problems from being so tense all the time. I cried easily and panicked at the grocery store which is not the type of thing I am used to. I had to quit. This was the best job I ever had up until Jan died. I held this job way longer than any other. I am looking for work now and I think I will be hired somewhere by the end of this week but I really need some help.

My boyfriend unfortunately lost his job at the same time. We’ve done alright paying rent and bills up until now. I’ve got a utility bill that’s about $50 that is overdue and I know I won’t be able to pay it for a while, but they won’t shut our power off so really I’m most concerned about the rent. Please please anything anyone can give would be extremely helpful. I have cash app and I am able to sign up for paypal or Venmo if necessary. If you can’t donate, please help me out by sharing this post. I know things are tight for everyone right now, the cost of food and gas is astronomical. I appreciate anything anyone can give, bless you all and thank you for reading.

Also, I live in a very small town so driving for companies like Uber or door dash aren’t really an option. However, if anyone has any suggestions about how I could make some money quickly, please let me know. I always hear about those survey websites, if anyone knows of any that they’ve personally used and are not a waste of time, I would be so grateful to know about it. Thank you everyone once again, I love all of you.

I have llkkkks to Anything helps, if you can’t spare any money, please please just share this post. A share helps just as much as a donation would.

🥰🥹🤞

#donate if you can #pls donate #please consider donating #donations #charity #financial help #money help

[freakoutgirl]

10, 26, & 38!

10. What’s your favorite kind of uquiz question? (Lyric, color, aesthetic, etc)

short multiple choice answer hfhdk (I don't mind lyric or poem questions if there's only a few options, but like are you really going to make me read twenty of these?)

26. Can you cook or bake? If so, what are some of your specialties?

I can't really unfortunately. I honestly really hate cooking/baking, it stresses me out and makes way too much of a mess, and I can't go to the grocery store myself on a whim so it's always an Ordeal. But I made some alright Oreo cupcakes lol

38. What’s one show you watch or musician you listen to that your friends know nothing about?

I just talked about them today tbh but throwing muses. Btw read Rat Girl by Kristin Hersh. Besides that idk honestly I can't keep track of what other people know

#thank you 🙏

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hey, you're from Germany, right? Do you have any tips for writing a German character? Most specifically, a German character studying abroad, and another character placed in Germany working In a office.

Things like relationships (familial, platonic, and romantic), office culture, normal habits, and cultural shocks a German may have would be very appreciated!

Sorry if this ask is tiresome. Thank you so, so much! <3

As always, Germans are like other people. Different personalities, different opinions, different worldviews — every German is different. So, you have a lot of options to build your character with a unique character.

That being said…

Studying abroad/living in Germany

So…I assume studying in ’merica, aye? I have been there when I was a teeny tiny cat but I have also heard stuff from people who have studied abroad. And uhhhh Germans hate Americans lol (though this could also be a European thing, not a German thing).

We make fun of your school system a lot. I don’t wanna be mean but things like education, school safety, your food etc. are often victims of our dark humour. A friend of mine was studying abroad and the people could genuinely not tell what exactly Germany is. Is it a country? A continent? A city?

Adding to that, she was overwhelmed with things like “Do you know Hitler?” or “Are you a Nazi?”

Bro…we spend months and years learning in detail about our country’s history. We visit concentration camps. We watch movies from that time, analyse in detail how the people got manipulated. We read books the victims wrote. Germany still imprisons people who are a hundred years old. Germany is well aware of its past. It’s also aware that something like this cannot happen ever again.

Since that was a bit deep uhhhh let’s go over to food. I dunno about y’all but from what I’ve heard…you’re ordering food for dinner and eat it on paper plates…? Look that’s what I’ve heard and I gotta tell you that most Germans eat bread and Brötchen for dinner (though this is also changing, a lot of people are cooking warm meals for dinner nowadays).

And — can’t stress this enough — Germans love bread. When you go into a supermarket, the first thing you’re gonna see is a bakery.

And inside the supermarket is also a mini bakery.

We love it. Can’t really live without it.

Germans complain (at least here in the East). You go out with friends? Instantly complaining about your stupid neighbours. You go to the club? Instantly complain how lame it is. You went somewhere for a special occasion? Instantly talking about everything that went well and all the things you would’ve loved to be better.

Germans love football (soccer). Personally, I hate it more than anything. But Germans love it. It’s insane to me. They sit in the stadium and scream…definitely has something Romanesque to it.

I’d say most people have a rather difficult relationship with their parents. Generational trauma is a big thing. I mean, Germany being split and being reunited is a big part of my parents’ childhood. And since healthy communication wasn’t really a thing back then, most parents just don’t really know how to communicate with their children. So, I’d rather say it’s kinda messed up? Again, I can’t speak for everyone but that’s just what I’m getting from talking to my friends etc.

It’s not that they don’t love us, it’s just that they cannot always show it when we need it.

I believe it is best if you watch a few TikToks of people who aren’t from Germany experiencing Germany, they can definitely tell you about all the different things way better. For example this one is about “language,” cake, grocery stores, German windows lmao, and this German tiktok icon making fun of Americans.

I hope this is somewhat helpful? I’m not working in an office, so I can’t tell you much about that, unfortunately but maybe someone on Tiktok could help you with that. People documenting their life is a pretty good source of information. (Other than that do not trust TikTok ever!!!)

#writing tips #no writing #pls don’t cancel me LMAO #hope this helps