#but thursday evening i was like oh no. oh feels Bad and friday was fucking awful i think i had a migraine on top of it

[munsonsprincess11111]

Missing munson.

Eddie munson x hopper/byers!reader

Summary: it's the end of the school year and Eddie gets called to miss Kelly's office. That same day Eddie goes missing. This is sad. The ending is happy though. You've been warned

Friday.

The last time you'd seen Eddie. He was in a bit of a bad mood because he had to go to miss Kelleys office. You was meant to see him after school but his van was gone. You walked to the trailer park and he wasn't there. Then he didn't show up for hellfire.

Or band practice Saturday. Wayne hadn't seen him. By Sunday your dad found you inna state and you told him Eddie was missing. Hopper took you to the station and made you give a statement on everything that happened on Friday.

By Tuesday there was a search party looking for Eddie.

They checked, the hide out, lovers lake, reefer Rick's, the hole Woods by the school. But still nothing. It was now Thursday. Eddie had been missing nearly a week.

Currently, you, Gareth, doug, and Jeff, are walking along the old railway to where there was abandoned vehicle's better known as hawkins dumping ground shouting his name. Hopper gave you a walking talking to communicate with him and other police incase anyone found anything.

There was a team searching in lovers lake. Hopper, Powell and officer daniels where heading to bennies abandoned building. Wayne was in the woods with his work buddies. Joyce Byers and Jonathan where on there way to the old lab.

Jonathan knew Eddie from high school obviously so Mike, Dustin, will and lucas did too. Them four where biking around neighbourhoods seeing if they could find him. It's like he just disappeared.

"Fucking hell Eddie Common." Gareth shouted. Before you could react, Jeff back handed him and shook his head. Eventually, you all made it to the dumping ground and stared at the old motors.

"Gareth come check that truck and car with me. Doug and Jeff check the bus." You say numbly walking over to the truck. Everyone splits and walks off. You had been so out of it. Not sleeping. Barely eating. It was bad.

You open the old truck door and climb into the drivers seat leaning across to look in the back. Nothing. You jump out slamming the door. You walk around to the trucks trunk and open it. Empty. You close it and lean on it as the others check the other vehicles.

"Y/N!" Doug shouts and you spin around. He looks worried and panicked. You nod.

"Get hopper!" HE shouts. Your heart drops. You feel sick. You bring the walkie up to your mouth but no words come out. Your eyes well up and you hand the walkie to Gareth.

"Shit it's OK. Hopper. Daniels. Powell Joyce I don't care who he's here we need help. Now!" Gareth shouts down the walkie.

"Were on our way!" Hopper shouts back down the walkie. You feel numb. You feel sick. But in your state you remember a important point.

"Tell them to check his pulse." You whisper loud enough for Gareth to hear.

"Shit yeah your a genius." Gareth says running over to the others. Time feels slow. But then doug shouts. "He's got a pulse oh thank fuck!"

You let out a breath you didn't even realise you was holding in. Moments later you hear sirens and your dad's vehicle pulls up abruptly along with Powell and daniels in another police car and an ambulance. The three boys get out the bus and tell hopper he has a pulse.

You slowly walk over to Gareth, doug and Jeff. You all stand there not knowing what to do. Two paramedics dealing with Eddie. Before you can speak to your dad Joyce pulls up with Wayne instead of Jonathan. Wayne jumps out of the car and jogs over to hopper to get him to fill him in.

Joyce walks over and hugs you. She just holds you. You don't cry at first. Until the paramedics bring Eddie out of the bus. That's when you broke. The first time you'd seen him in nearly a week. Worried sick. And he's unconscious being wheeled into an ambulance.

Wayne jumps in the ambulance and hopper is due to escort them so they can get there faster to evaluate him better. "Get in." Hopper says to you opening the passenger door. You nod and get in strapping your seat belt before hopper pulls away.

"Hold on kid." HE says driving to the hospital.

-

The waiting room was hell. You was sat next to hopper. Then Wayne came walking out looking relieved. "He's awake. Has been for 30 minutes. He went on a bender. He failed school again. Instead of talking to someone he ran away cause he didn't wanna get an earful." Wayne explains to you and your dad.

You wipe your eyes. Your not sure if there happy tears cause he's here, he's alive and he's talking. Or sad because he felt like he couldn't talk to you and did that to himself.

"But I told him y/ns out here and he told me if I don't come get ya he's gonna walk out here n see you himself." Wayne chuckles. Hopper does too and shakes his head. You nod and stand up. You look to your dad and he gives you a nod.

You walk down the hall and get to the room they put Eddie in. "I'll give you two some alone time." Wayne says walking back off. You open the door and walk in eye going straight to Eddie. He's laying on the bed. Machines beeping. He looks exhausted. But he smiles as he sees you.

"Hey baby." HE says weakly. You step in more and close the door. You take a breath in walking over to him. You run a hand through Eddie's hair. Your eyes water. He's here. He's safe. "Take it Wayne told you what happend." HE says. You nod.

He reaches up slowly and takes your hand. You hold his back as a tear runs down your cheek. "Never do that again. I was so fucking scared." You choke a cry saying to him. He nods and kisses your hand.

"I promise." HE says weakly letting your hand go to wrap his pinky around yours kissing it. You laugh slightly when he does this.

"I'm here OK. I don't care you failed. Nor does Wayne. Hell nor does my dad. Next year will be your year ok. I'll help you study extra hard. You can steal my old notes I don't care. Please just never do that again. I thought I fucking lost you." You say as tears run down your face.

He pulls you on top of him and holds you. He kisses your head ans just holds you. Eventually you stop crying. Your laying on the bed next to Eddie. His arm around you, your head on his chest. "I love you." HE mumbles.

"I love you too dumbass." You says back holding his hand.

"I love you more though Eddie." Gareth makes kissing noise from the door. Eddie looks over to see Gareth, doug and Jeff and rolls his eyes.

"Hello to you to." HE says. You attempt to sit up but Eddie holds you down.

"Dude we thought you was fucking dead." Jeff says throwing himself in the chair.

"Yeah we thought we found your body." Doug chimes in leaning on the wall.

"Good news I'm not." Eddie laughs kissing your head.

"You look like shit." Gareth says.

"Thanks man." Eddie rolls his eyes saying.

-

A week goes by when they finally release Eddie. Wayne picks him up from the hospital and brings him to the trailer. As they pull into the drive way you stand from the seats on the porch and walk over to Eddie who's walking towards the front door. He pulls you into his side wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

He's straight in the shower. You grab him a towel and fresh clothes. Eddie flops on his bed nearly loosing his towel. "I missed my bed." HE says laying in his back.

He slips on his boxers and throws the other items of clothing on the floor climbing into his bed. He flings the covers open next to him letting the spot. You take off your bra and jeans climbing in bed with Eddie. He holds you close and kisses you.

"Sorry for scaring you." HE mumbles.

"I'll forgive you. But babe?" You answer and he nods.

"You can talk to me. It can stay between me and you no one else. You don't need to run you've got me." You say kissing him.

"I love you." HE replies nuzzling his face in your neck.

"I love you too. 86. Its your year." You says kissing his head as he nods.

-

And was you right about 86. He graduated finally. A year after you. But he did it. He gave the teachers on stage the middle finger running off the stage kissing you deeply. You held eachother and told him how proud you was.

A week later the both of you attended prom. Hand in hand you walked in. Granted you graduated a year before. And neither of you wanted to be there. But this was the last chance to really piss off the jocks, cheerleaders and teachers. You wore a long flowy black and red dress.

Eddie wore suit pants and shirt but his leather jacket instead of a proper jacket. You took pictures you gave jason the middle finger as you held eachother close. And Eddie slow danced with you.

You sat in the van after and looked at him. "You did it." You smiles taking his hand.

"I fucking did it." HE smiles back.

"I wouldn't have done it without you by the way thank you for everything." HE says kissing you.

"Don't need to thank me. I love you." You smiles kissing his neck.

"I love you more." Eddie smirks. You pout and kiss him again.

Just like any good prom night it ended in sex. Just in the back of Eddie's can by the lake. You layed naked under the covers holding eachother close.

Then there's a bang on the side of the van. Eddie peaks out the window to see a very angry looking hopper. He opens the back door. So you can keep the both of you covered.

"Seriously." Is all he says shaking his head. He lectures you both before walking off. Eddie smirks and kisses you smirking. "I made 86 baby." HE smirks. You nod and kiss him back.

He lays back on his back pulling you into his side. "Best night ever." HE smiles. You smile up at him and kiss him again. "Y"know." You says tapping his chest. He hums in response.

"I could definitely go again..." You smirk. Eddie head shoots up and he smiles kissing you and laying himself between your legs.

"We we're right 86 is definitely my year... wait scratch that." HE says and you look at him confused and he kisses you again.

"It's our year." HE kisses you again before marking you up and making you feel good.

He was definitely. 86 was definitely you twos year.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson thoughts #eddie m #eddie munson x yn #eddie x reader #eddie smut #eddie x you #rockstar eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie stranger things

[indigodawns]

.

#guess who got covid again!!! #my friend who lives on the floor below me + his partners got it and they kept their door open which made me Nervous #but i was like ugh don't be mean etc im sure it's fine and id wrap my scarf over my nose and mouth at least and wash my hands #but thursday evening i was like oh no. oh feels Bad and friday was fucking awful i think i had a migraine on top of it #but saturday was okayish! so i ordered food and i added a note saying please feel free to leave it near the door #but they didn't see/didn't speak dutch so i had to get it from them anyway and i kept my distance in between but blegh blegh #idk i just hate this i hate thinking who i mightve infected i hate that this means im stuck here for another week i hate our fk government #and i hate my own spinelessness #and something about. what else is going on beside covid? oh yeah fucking genocides. jfc.

[lampregistration3000]

how do i explain to a woman whos daughter that is my age who is currently actively dying that i Do Not want to help her clean up her mess because she can't plan worth a damn and makes it everyone else's problem.

#she was like 'oh i can give you five hours of ot to help me do this :D' and im like #i hope you can feel how displeased i am right now radiating off of my skin #it wouldn't make me as insane as it is if OTHER PEOPLE whos job IM BEING TASKED TO DO would DO THEIR FUCKING JOBS so I DONT HAVE TO #but i think my one coworker has the same amount of brain cells as a hard boiled egg and the rest of them are just. using me to get out of i #i need a new job. i feel bad but they wont even give me the fucking job title they advertized that they were hiring so. #like babygirl i am not a customer service representative. i am something different. i applied for something different. #its just frustrating #i think what ill actually do is see if i can get back into college and then go from there #ETA: also i'm not fucking doing it. #like. they have tomorrow and wednesday to get it together but ive said multiple times i am not doing anything thursday friday or saturday #for anyone this week because its my damn birthday #also. being given a laptop for WFH apparently. i can't WFH. i have to be in office. so theres literally no point. and also I DONT WANT TO. #im a part of like the 5% of people who would rather skin myself alive than tolerate a single ounce of work bleeding into my home life

[richeeduvie]

thinking about logan jr making mothers day gifts for baby in school and then being told he needs to make one for his actual mom and he just half-asses that one. how is baby/shiv feeling if they notice? also how is baby feeling about getting one just in general, after all he is her first baby🥰

His teacher is going on about Mother's Day. Logan Jr's thinking about how Baby Jr's at her own home. Not at school cause Aunty and Uncle allowed it - she gets a tutor and they want her there.

"Can we-"

"Logan. You need to raise your hand first."

His brows make their own little pout. He raises his hand.

"Yes, Logan?"

"Is there an Aunty's Day?"

"...I'll check."

He nods. He'll make one for his mommy, but she probably won't even want to see it. Aunty will want to see hers. Apparently, there's no Aunty's or Uncle's day. Not one that really matters. That's stupid.

But he makes these little paper flowers - for a bouquet. He wraps them up in thin, pink paper and puts little stickers on them. He tries really hard to make them perfect.

"Damn it!"

"Logan."

Roman's sorta noticed the...you know, photos of his wife and soulmate gone from a couple of photo frames in his house? But Logan Jr needed those too. He got some photos of Uncle Roman too. And Baby Jr.

"...Who's that, Logan?"

"...I wanted to make something before I make a card for Mommy. It's none of your business, but I'll tell you anyway cause you've been helping me. It's my aunty."

"Oh. Okay."

Logan Jr then forgets he actually has to make one for his Mommy.

"Fuck."

She won't even see it anyway. So he just makes a card with a smiley face. He draws some flowers too.

Logan Jr gets nervous that it's just stupid. Baby Jr will make something and it'll be better cause that's her baby. Even though she is just a baby. She can't even write properly.

He's dropped off to their place on mother's day - a car that usually drops him off on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Monday and Tuesdays are boring.

"What's this, sweetheart?"

He smiles when Baby smiles. Baby Jr comes toddling over, making happy noises at all the colors. Yeah, he's super good at making stuff.

"Is this for your mommy for Mother's Day? Shiv is gonna love this."

"Love! Is color!"

His smile drops.

"...No."

"Oh. Who is this for?"

She's bending down.

He looks down. It's not wrong to just make things.

"It's for you. I had time to make something, that's why. You-do you like it, Aunty?"

Baby Jr squeals because it means his little bouquet will be in their home. She waves her hands around.

"Yay!"

"Oh. Logan. I love it! It's just...what's the special occasion? I didn't know Aunty's Day was also on Mother's Day."

"It's not. But look! I got these batman stickers! I placed it on angles."

"At an angle?"

"Yeah! They're super cool! And I-"

"What did you make for Mommy?"

Logan Jr blinks.

"...A card."

Baby smiles. She wonders where her little nephew's thought process went.

"A card. How nice. She'll love it. Does that have super cool batman stickers too?"

"...Should I put some on?"

Baby keeps her smile on. Baby Jr comes to hug Logan Jr.

"Tank you!"

"They're not even for you."

He takes the hug, though.

"You're welcome."

Logan Jr pulls out the card, smiling bright when he shows it to his Aunty.

Baby keeps her smile on.

"Wow, Logan. She'll love this so much. Shiv is gonna smile as big as this smiley face you made."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You're such a sweet boy. Come here."

They squish a giggling Baby Jr in the hug. Baby thinks - no wonder why her nephew had time to make her gift. But maybe he knows it'll be enough for Shiv. She doesn't want to think anything bad.

Maybe she shouldn't be so bold to show her bouquet, though.

Logan Jr's smiling up at her.

#inbox #hc's #drabble #dog and bone!au #succession fanfiction

[ofbluesandyellows]

Committed to the Cause (Part 2) - TASM! Peter Parker / Fem! Reader

Summary: Spider-Man keeps on showing up to check on you, as annoying as he is you can’t help to find his presence comforting.

Word count: 7,623

Warnings: Mentions of blood, injury, swearing and alcohol.

Your arm was feeling numb again in that unmoving angle, the cast made your skin itchy but you couldn’t even scratch it, it almost made you go insane at times. 

Jerry had finally left and you were doing the best you could to collect the dirt from your large table, leaving everything clean for the next morning.

It was probably past nine when you managed to close the store, a message from your dad, reminding you about the big wedding on Friday, you had to stay overnight on Thursday to make all the arrangements for the tables in time and… well and you were frustrated because without an arm it was double effort. 

The commute back home served you enough to awake, you still had stuff to do to prepare for tomorrow’s long day. Feeling instantly more relaxed when you got in your building, the keys fell at your feet when you went to unlock your apartment’s door. It had happened at least once a day since you got that broken arm, you grunted, still a little upset with Spider-Man. Of course you didn’t attack him back when he visited you that night at the hospital because you thought it was a good act of kindness, showed that he cared and that he was sorry for what he did. And you were kinda loopy on meds.

However you were upset, and maybe not with him but for the way you felt so useless most of the time. Working on the bouquets was twice as hard and they weren’t as pretty as when you arranged them with both hands, you couldn’t chop anything and you always poured your coffee over your shirt. This could help you be ambidextrous but it was hard, and you had not the patience for it.

Percy didn’t welcome you when you got in. You huffed. Great, now your dog didn’t want you either. Turning the lights on, your bag plopped on the floor.

“FUCK!” You squealed, back resting on the door.

“I should’ve announced myself, sorry again.”

Spider-Man was sitting in your living room, Percy on his lap, tail whipping his leg. This was the most bizarre thing you’ve seen in your life. 

“You can’t be—jeez you want me at the hospital again? Oh god,” you were panting.

You didn’t hear him approach but Percy was soon jumping at your feet demanding attention. As you hovered over to try and catch your breath your line of vision became red spandex feet.

He squatted down to be eye level with you, he waved your way. You felt a bubble bursting in your insides and you wanted to punch his face, poke his big white bug eyes and you also wanted to cry until you fell asleep.

“You’re upset.” He pointed.

“Well of course! I came home after a very long day and my dog doesn’t welcome me and then you almost killed me with your bug-ish presence in my couch, like how did you expect me to react!” You reincorporated, sighing. 

“Right, sorry my bad…again.” Spider-man’s hands went up, clearly taking the blame.

Eyes glancing at him, Spider-Man was not paying attention to you, he was looking around, not touching anything, and Percy somehow was following him around. Annoying.

“Anyway, what are you doing here?” you went to the kitchen to grab some water. 

Spider-Man popped in. “I just wanted to see how you were doing… it’s been two weeks, and—“ he went silent, it made you turn around.

He was leaning on the door frame, arms crossed, eyes staring. A shiver ran down your spine, it was weird to be observed so intently and not be able to read the expression of the other person.

“And?”

“Nothing, just wanted to see how you were, okay? I’m gonna go now. I see you are not in the mood.” 

He backed out and you sighed, resting your only good arm on the sink. Why was he so annoying?

“I had a bad day okay, sorry If I’m taking it against you.”

From the living room you heard him grunt or chuckle or whatever.

“I get that,” 

“You can go do your hero stuff, it’s fine. Thanks for checking on me.”

You took a long sip of the too cold water, wincing you felt it drop in the depths of your belly. 

Not even surprised when you accidentally knocked a cup off the counter while you tried to wash the dirty dishes on the sink. 

Your eyes instantly closed, another cup down, this was the sixth one in two weeks, without counting the dishes and glasses. 

Spider-Man appeared next to you in a second. 

“Um, do you need help? With… anything?”

You stared at him and felt your nose tingle, eyes prickled. 

“No, thanks.” With a wet hand you moved away from him, noticing how close he was now. You gathered the broom and the dustpan, ready to clean your mess when a red gloved hand took it from you.

“Y/n, let me help you.” 

You sniffed, not letting the emotions win. “I can do it, really.”

“I insist.” and that was the end of it. 

Spider-Man cleaned the floor, washed the dishes and even put the kettle on to make tea. The feeling eased a little as you watched him do it, ever so often insisting on doing it yourself all for him to wave his hand at you, dismissing your words.

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking out for the New-yorkers.” You said putting a green tea bag—that Spider-Man helped take out from the package—in your chipped cup filled with hot water.

“I am,” he exclaimed, sitting opposite you on the small kitchen table, hands resting on his lap, fingers intertwined. “Am I not?”

You couldn’t see it but you heard the sardonic tone. “but I’m not in danger.” 

You hid your tiny smile behind the cup lingering on your lips.

“No, but you could be, shattered glass can be deadly, I know from experience.”

You scoffed. “I’m trying my best not to destroy what’s left of my tableware, thank you.”

Hands up in the air again. “okay, but you could burn yourself with the tea, burn injuries are pretty awful—“

“You know from experience too?” you pulled in your lips trying not to laugh.

“Hey! I know you’re making fun of me but yeah, and it’s not pretty.” 

“Fine,”

Percy came running into the kitchen, he laid down right at Spider-Man’s feet, you frowned.

“Percy, you betrayed me!”

Spider-Man laughed. “See, at least someone likes having me around.”

You noticed his laugh for the first time and it was boyish, carefree and contagious. Now that you were thinking about it, it felt less weird to have him there, yes it was weird from all the angles you could look at the situation but it felt somewhat comfortable. 

Silence landed heavy in the room, your mind was restless to find words to say, to express how you felt; tired and also grateful for this unexpected visitor, you wanted to tell him something meaningful but you didn’t find the words. He just kept petting the dog and looking at you occasionally.

“You always work late?” he asked suddenly.

“No, but it’s been busy weeks, you know, the holidays and there’s this wedding on friday and they need like twelve bouquets for the tables and another four for the bridesmaids so tomorrow I’ll be in the shop until I finish.” You scrunched your nose. “it’s fun, I usually don’t complain but it’s been hard to try and do things with your less skillful hand.”

“And it’s all my fault,” you glanced up at him through your lashes, he was looking somewhere up your ceiling.

“Yeah but it’s done, you can’t do anything about it.”

His big shiny white eyes focused on you. “I could,”

“It’s enough by having you here making tea for me.”

He sighed.

The sound of sirens went louder as they ran down the street. Spider-Man stood up fast, Percy almost jumped on his spot.

“Uh, do you mind if I—?” he pointed to your window.

“No, go ahead.”

“Cool, thanks. I’ll… see you around, right?” 

Weird, your stomach felt weird. “Yeah, why not!”

“Great, okay I’ll go now, job can be a pain in the ass.” He chuckled and with a flick of his wrist he went out flying. You stood on the door frame looking at the open window when something smacked on the class and in a fast movement it closed, you started laughing. 

In awe you ran to the window, the air instantly made the web freeze and shine under the moonlight. 

•••

Your back was aching with every tiny little move you made. Feeling the muscles and nerves squeeze and stretch made you wince. You were finally done, the clock said four in the morning, body screaming for bed. At least you didn’t have to deliver them too, you had no bike either way. That was Jerry’s job for once.

A light drizzle was falling as you tried to wrap your scarf around your neck as well as you could with your good hand. The shop was closed and the padlocks were in place. You still needed to walk two blocks to get to the subway.

In there were only people that had to work too early or people that were finally off their night shift, the subway was for once silent. Sitting down, your eyes spotted a pair of black converses almost in front of you. Your eyes slowly looked up, a black coat, a red beanie in place and earphones on, eyes closed. 

You squinted to give the person a better look, those eyes opened. You tried but the effort was futile, brown eyes found you looking and you simply gave him a lipped smile as a way to hide the embarrassment, your red cheeks gave you away anyway.

The boy put one earphones off and gave you a soft smile. “Hey” he greeted.

“Hi,” damn now you made him uncomfortable and forced him to talk. He leaned on, resting his elbows on his knees as he typed something on his phone, the one he put away only a second later. 

There, you were staring again.

“Thanks for the flowers by the way, you shouldn’t have done it but thanks I appreciate it.”

Oh, right, he was the daisies’ guy, that’s why he looked familiar. “It's fine, you can always come back and buy another bouquet from us.”

He laughed. “yeah, you’re right, I should do that.”

You smiled and both traded looks, the whole scene was a bit weird, too tired to process things, too early to be on the subway chatting with a boy.

“Were you working? Because it is a bit late” you pointed, playing with the cuff of your sweater.

“Is it? It could also be pretty early” you chuckled at that. “But yeah it was a late shift… I had a few difficulties with my ride so I had to take the good ol’ sub.” He said but you notice one of his hands wrapped his wrist absentmindedly.

Scratching his cheek he rested his back on the backrest, eyes on his hands. You only nodded. “Yeah same,”

Silence for a bit, you could feel his eyes staring.

“Are you doing okay?”

You furrowed. “What?”

His arm went up to show you what he meant. “Your arm,”

“Oh yes… it’s mostly fine now. Still need to wait a few more weeks to take it off but,” you shrugged, “could’ve been worse”

“Sure, must suck though.” You caught real anguish in the way he said it.

“It does.” 

Your face went deeper in your scarf as the boy looked at his fidgety hands.

The urge to speak was down on you, you hated awkward silences.

“What’s your-“

“You live-“ 

Both said at the same time and grins appeared on your faces. His smile was nice and it made his eyes twinkle. 

“Go ahead please,” the boy quickly said with a hand gesture.

“Er, I was gonna ask you what your name was.”

“Oh” he scratched the top of his covered head. “Peter…Parker?”

You chuckled. “You sure?” He cocked a brow. “You don’t seem very convinced.”

He let out a low laugh. “Right no yeah, it is Peter Parker… sorry yeah or just Peter it’s fine!”

“Okay,” you smiled. “I’m y/n”

“Cool… cool name” he avoided your eyes and you smirked. You usually didn’t make boys feel nervous, this was fun.

Peter looked around and abruptly stood up, making you jump slightly. 

“This is my stop… I’ll see ya later?” 

Your eyebrow quivered for a second, the tone reminded you of someone. “Sure, get home safe”

“You too…” doors slid open just in time and… he took a step out still facing you. 

Peter waited for the doors to close to wave at you as the subway moved. You beamed… that was definitely weird. 

•••

Peter felt incredibly stupid doing this, but there was something about being near you that caused his brain to make stupid decisions. He’d try to mask them as “apologetic actions”. He had no webs left, he forgot to put his emergency cartridges in and now he was back at his apartment, backpack filled with cartridges. A quick breakfast and a shower later he had his Spider-Man suit on, under his clothes and there he went out into the wild.

He walked around his neighborhood for a few minutes to try and deceive his incoherent ideas, yet there was this urge of seeing you again popping out of nowhere. Peter had been fighting it harder lately, so he opted to go to work. Stark Industries helped him focus on other things, like perfecting his web fluid and explosive web balls. Sometimes he still sent images to the Bugle to keep gossip at bay, now more than ever after his little incident it was to try and calm the waters. 

That served him well until he had to head out. Peter’s mind went back to basics.

Grabbing coffee and putting his casual clothes in his bag, he gave in rather easily. Swinging—now full Spider-Man out— around buildings with two cups of coffee and a blueberry muffin in a bag. Three days in the same week, he was heading back to you.

You are going unhinged with these apologies Peter.

Balcony window slid open and there it was, Percy instantly jumping at his feet, begging for a belly scratch. Spider-Man sighed, comfort wrapped him as his nose caught the scent of coconut. Scanning the room he found a new batch of daisy poms and roses.

“Is someone home?” he said loudly, not wanting to scare you again. 

“Hello little Percy, here I didn’t forget about you.” Peter put the coffees on the coffee table as he scattered inside his backpack, a little tupper of fruit appeared on the dog’s line of vision. It made the furry thing go crazy when he tasted a piece of red apple.

Peter’s eyes caught movement and you appeared on the door frame of your room, a towel on the top of your head, a big pink sweater on, tired eyes but you were smiling at him. 

“Hey” Peter said, waving a hand. He quickly grabbed the tray with the coffees. “I brought you something.” 

Your eyes grew big. “Oh, thank you. What are you doing here?” 

Good question. “I was in the neighborhood, wanted to—“

“Check on me… again?” you smirked.

“Yeah, is that wrong?” 

Your head shook. “I suppose it isn’t, but it still is a bit weird if you ask me.” 

“Thought we were friends or something.” 

Taking steps closer to him you grabbed your coffee, taking a sip, Peter watched under his mask, expectantly.

“We aren’t friends but we are definitely something.” 

He felt the smile spread on his face. “That's what I’m saying.” 

It was funny how he made himself at home, sitting on the couch, as he fed Percy tiny pieces of fruit, you disappeared in your room only to appear minutes later with your hair down and damp.

“How are you going to drink your coffee?” you asked him with a funny look.

Peter noticed then what you meant. “Um I don’t know, you can leave the room and let me drink it and then you can come back… my identity needs to stay secret.” 

You chuckled. “yeah of course, that would be so inconvenient for me, you are in my house.”

“I know but how else would I drink it then?” Percy barked, as if giving Peter the reason.

He smiled when he saw you roll your eyes at him. “Just put the mask up to your mouth, don’t think I can recognize someone just by looking at their chin.”

“I don’t know, can you?” 

You shrugged. “Anyway, you need to stop being so nice with Percy, he’s been a little punk since you fed him, it’s like he has fallen in love with you.” 

“Not my fault that I’m so lovable. He has good taste, right Percy.” 

The tiny dog only blinked and jumped on the edge of the couch for attention. 

“See? He reacts to your voice so easily. Must be some kind of animal connection.” 

Peter scoffed. “I am slightly offended, I am not an animal, woman.” The sharp look you threw him made him snort. “Just have spider-like abilities, wait— do you actually think I am like some hybrid creature, half spider half human?” he let out a long loud laugh when you diverted your gaze.

“Don’t laugh, it is kind of common sense, you shoot webs and fly and climb walls,” 

Peter couldn’t breath, that was rich, no one had actually asked him if he had more than two eyes or if he had fangs or fur covering his skin.

He saw the cushion flying from the corner of his eyes, it landed with a low thud on his head. 

“Stop it!” you squealed. “How could I know you are indeed a normal looking human?”

Peter’s belly hurt from laughing. “I could show you,” 

You looked at him with big eyes. “Don’t lie, you wouldn't show me”

He chuckled. “Yeah… maybe one day, who knows.” he laid his back on the couch, the cushion you threw him now on his lap. “Wow that was— you are very funny.” 

“Ha ha yeah and you are rude.” 

“I am definitely not,” 

A sigh escaped him, his body felt light and relaxed. He tried to think of another time where he’d felt this at ease. 

Nothing came to mind.

“You didn’t go to work?” Peter said after clearing his throat, he felt a flutter in his stomach.

“I didn’t… Jerry is taking care of the arrangements with one of his brothers, and because I stayed until pretty late…well—”

“Or early,” Peter mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Uh, nothing…” 

“Well… they gave me the day off to rest.”

“Cool, so… do you have plans? As in right now?” 

This could either go splendidly well or horrendously wrong. 

“No… Just want to have some food… why?” 

Peter noticed how your mind was trying to figure out where his question was going. 

“I could go get us pizza? Or sushi? Maybe thai?” he shrugged. He was playing it cool, he was surprised at how casual his voice sounded, the complete opposite happened inside his body where everything was on alert, ready to be rejected.

“um…” your eyes landed on his face, Peter felt his whole head grow hot, what was his purpose with this? He wondered. “Sure, yeah that’d be nice… but are you gonna eat? Don’t want to be eating pizza while you just watch.”

Your face was a combination of emotions; a smile, flushed cheeks and furrowed eyebrows, Peter felt the urge to pinch your cheeks.

“Of course! I’m not inviting you to eat something just to watch you, not my kind of kink.” 

This made you snort, he smiled. 

“Okay then, just no pepperoni.”

“Pizza it is, be right back.” He stood up in a swift jump.

“Wait, let me give you money.” You grabbed his wrist. 

“Nope, my treat.” 

Peter didn’t let you say more, the next thing he knew he was smiling, swinging through buildings and screaming feeling alive and jolly. For once he felt happy back in his world. Not an ounce of regret or the thought of his other Peter variants in mind.

•••

Eating pizza with Spider-Man was not on your bingo card, not in your wildest dreams thought you’d have him on your couch half mask up, eating pizza and drinking beer while you two watched New Girl.

“I’m gonna admit that this show is pretty funny, I was not expecting it.” Spider-Man said, munching on his food. You saw his little smile as he reacted to something Schmidt had said. 

More than watching the show—the one you’ve watched and re-watched several times—you were mainly focused on the arachnid hero at your side. He seemed to be so immersed in the whole thing that he didn’t notice your staring. 

You found yourself smiling when he did so, or when he absentmindedly scratched his cheek or the top of his head. And you wondered how weird it was for him to be living a secret life as well as a heroic one. You wanted to know who was under the mask as well, because just these little snippets of normalcy between you and Spider-Man—even though he was a bit annoying—felt so normal. You liked his personality, he was a good company after all. The man under the mask as a matter of fact had to be just as nice.

“Who is your favorite character?” He asked, fully looking at you, mask back down. He caught you looking.

Trying to act unsurprised, you took a bite of your now cold slice of pizza. “All of them, have a soft spot for Nick but they’re all amazing, that’s what makes the show so good.”

“Hmm… yeah well I don’t know, after two episodes all I can say is that the girl with the bangs,”

“Cece,”

“Yeah, Cece, is going to end up with the guy with the tip jar.” 

“Schmidt.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

It made you smirk that even now you could sense when he was smiling under his mask, it was in the way he spoke that told you he was happy.

“I’m not saying anything, you need to watch it,” 

“Fair enough.” He hugged a cushion against his chest and threw you a look. “Put the next one, come on woman.”

“Wow, see! Rude.”

“Sorry,” he squeezed your arm. “I just want to see if I’m right.”

That’s basically how it started, New Girl was a bonding method you found really rewarding, lots of laughs and nods. Spider-Man left only twenty minutes later when his phone started buzzing, with an apologetic gesture he exited the apartment through the window. 

The next time you saw him was a week later, he carried a bag full of Chinese food, and you kept on watching season 4 where finally Nick and Jess get together. 

Percy got a new toy, which ironically was a tiny Spider-Man stuffed toy, it made you laugh and Spider-Man felt quite proud of the joke. These late date nights became not a daily thing but a regular occasion, never on the same day but most of them around ten at night. 

Five weeks later you were trying to come up with a way to wrap a fairly big wedding bouquet with a baby pink ribbon with just one arm. It was a hard task, Jerry left for lunch and to deliver a few stuff, you were not expecting him to come back until probably two more hours. That left you with no more option than to wait in the store.

Until you heard the bell chime, announcing a new customer. Leaving the flowers slowly on the table you sighed in defeat when the bouquet lost form without your holding them.

“Peter Parker!” you said gleefully stepping into the actual shop.

His smile and dreamy eyes caught you off guard. “Hey y/n”

And there’s something about hearing your name coming out of a cute guy that made you feel special, and stupid.

“The usual I suppose.” 

“Yes,” he nodded and you disappeared into your station again. “How you’ve been?”

“All right, I'm counting the days until I get this damn thing off my arm, but besides that everything’s been good.” 

The flowers you picked for Peter were always the most beautiful, the ones with the brightest colors with the freshest steams and even when you were giving him a variation of daisies, you didn’t dare to charge him full price. 

“How about you, how’s work?” 

His visits had been twice a week, and you liked having little chats with him, he told you the other day that he was working on a secret project at Stark industries and that he couldn’t tell you more because it was indeed a secret. 

“Peachy, remember the project?” 

“Yes,”

“It’s going pretty great, actually we could have a few tryouts within the next few days, so I’m pretty stoked about it.”

“That’s cool, even though I don’t know what’s that about but I trust you. You’re the future of science mister Parker.” you said with a chuckle as you appeared on the counter. 

A slight cherry color was staining his cheeks, adorable. “I am not, I just like to—you know… help.”

“Uh huh, very heroic of you.”

He frowned. “Not heroic enough, it’s nice of you to say, though.”

“Could you help me wrap them, you know the drill already.” 

“Of course,” 

He knew pretty well, you’ve been asking him for help wrapping the bouquets whenever he showed up when Jerry wasn’t around, which was pretty often, as if he knew when Jerry took his break. 

Peter held the paper in place as you placed the flowers, then he simply followed your instructions into twisting and folding the right corners until he had a pretty perfectly wrapped bouquet of rainbow like daisies. 

“I don’t want to abuse your kindness but can you help me with another bouquet? I’ve been trying to wrap it but I just can’t find a way”

Peter blinked, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah no problem, always nice to be of help.”

You let Peter in, your station was a mess but it was all part of it, he looked around as you told him to hold the flowers up for you to see and rearrange them properly. White gardenias, and white roses filling the air with their sweet aroma, you were very concentrated in doing your job, instructing Peter to hold the tip of a cream color ribbon with his thumb.

“Like this?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Okay so now I am going to surround the stems with the ribbon and you need to hold it on every round, okay?” 

Your eyes went up to find his already on you, the way he was gazing at your eyes and your nose and your lips made you suddenly very shy. 

“Peter?” Voice came out as a mumble.

Quickly he shook his head and nodded. “Yeah I got it!” voice going slightly high pitched.

You did your best to not touch him much, but it was inevitable to not brush your hand against his skin or his covered chest, his sweater was soft and now the scent of flowers mixed with his aftershave. 

It was… nice, something within you churned. You gulped.

“Done,” a sigh escaped you, this had been a bit harder than you thought…. Not talking exclusively about the bouquet.

Your eyes found his and both of you smiled, it wasn’t uncomfortable yet there was a slight shift in the atmosphere.  

With a blink Peter instantly turned around and walked away from you. “How much I owe you?”

“Same as always,” 

Peter handed you the money, he crusty and you scrunched your nose, he caught you doing so

“That was… I didn’t mean to curtsy,” he laughed, ears turning bright red. “I’ll just go. Er thank you!”

With a chuckle you returned an exaggerated curtsy. “Bye, sir Peter.”

“You are so annoying, you know that?” He said pushing the door open, he waved at you through the window display.

•••

It was past eleven, and Spider-man didn’t show up again, it’s been four days now, you were worried, only slightly, you should have known better than worry about an actual hero, he must’ve been doing pretty important stuff, he didn’t owe you and yes you were friends… or something but it was odd to not have him around, not even a note or a quick stopping by as he had done before.

Percy had been looking through the window every night to see if his favorite human appeared, yes Spidey had taken your place which was unfair considering you fed and played with the doggy all the time.  

Huffing you snuggled deeper into your mattress and duvet, your feet were cold, this impeded you to reconcile sleep, but eventually your whole body fell into slumber. Thoughts and the images of a weird dream started to take shape and form an incoherent plot. Yet the barks of Percy made you jump out of your skin in an instant.

Sitting in bed with your heart palpitating so fast you felt it coming out of your chest any second. Holding an empty vase near your bedside table you walked out of your room, Percy instantly coming to meet you. 

“What is it?” you asked him in a whisper, to which Percy only ran away straight to the living room.

Shuffling and grunts echoed in the apartment. You gulped, the grip on the vase tighter. Mind came up with a plan in seconds, that was adrenaline acting up. If you ran, turning the lights on and then throwing the vase to whoever was in there you could gain enough time to hold Percy and run away.

Yeah, that was as good as it could get, shaking your head you did it, no overthinking just running, switch on and you almost tripped on your feet.

“HOLY FUCK!” you shouted, the vase fell on the couch, dammit you were about to ruin a pretty great vase for this.

“Sorry, I am really sorry. I swear it wasn’t my intention, just Percy here, little snitch.”

Spider-Man was holding his chest, as he was sprawled on the floor, the window slightly open cold winter air swirling in.

“What… are you okay?” you saw the splash of darker red on his suit. 

Oh no.

“I… yeah. Sure, Just need a sec to catch my breath, promise you if I had somewhere else to go I wouldn’t have bothered you but… oh” His hand went up , as if he was examining it. “Shit that’s lots of blood.”

Instinctively, you approached the wounded man in your living room. Kneeling by his side the blood was creating a small pool of crimson liquid, the metallic smell made you want to gag.

“Jesus, er I, okay I’m— I need to see what you have there, can you move? Are you dizzy?” 

“Yes, I am very dizzy and… I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to move.” 

“Of course, okay but I still need to see your wound, let me just get my scissors, there’s no way I’m letting you die in my living room Spider-Man.”  

At this time you weren’t sure where the scissors were, but how could you, you were panicking, you had zero to no experience in wounds. 

A knife and scissors and towels, water, aspirins, you grabbed everything you found remotely useful and let it fall at Spider-Man’s feet. He chuckled and grunted all together.

“Okay, let me see.” You went to grab his suit but he caught your hand mid-way, warm and gooey with his own blood.

“No, I can take it off, this suit” grunt. “Believe it or not it costs a fortune, well no, it doesn’t but it cost me a lot of time to make.”

You were looking at him unblinkingly, how on earth was he able to joke. “Whatever, just let me see!!”

“Jeez y/n chill I won’t die… at least I hope not.”

You grimaced just by looking at him struggling with his suit, slowly but surely you waited and helped as much as a girl with one functional arm could.

His chest was like a work of art, splashes of red angry hits, purple fresh bruises as well as yellow-y spots where starting to disappear to leave space for the new ones. Near his ribs there were three wounds, you couldn’t tell if those were deep or not but blood was seeping out of them, your whole body tensed.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, those will heal in a couple of hours.” Spider-Man affirmed, mumbling. Percy was licking his naked arm, you heard the man let out a low laugh. “Thank you Percy I knew you’d understand.”

“Who did this to you?” you gasped, feeling your eyes prickle. 

“Bad men, they usually use guns so I was not ready to be attacked by…um sharp… objects…”

“Those are knife wounds?” 

“Not exactly but you could say so, yeah.” Spider-Man winced.

Ok, that was your cue, you needed to figure out a way to fix him. “I don’t know what I’m doing but we got this Spider-Man,”

Your only hand available was shaking heaps as you pressed the towel against his wounds. “Add pressure and I’ll start cleaning the rest.”

You demanded and Spidey obeyed. 

His mask was still on so you had no clue if he was looking at you or just resting his eyes. Either way you cleaned his torso as best as you could. Unfortunately the towel started to stain red, and you had to run to get another one, no time to wash or rinse. Percy followed you like his presence was doing something to help you.

When you came back only one of his wounds was dripping, the other two were bright red.

“See? We are getting there.” Spider-Man said in a chuckle probably because of your expression, total awe.

“Yeah, I see now… but still I’m gonna wrap you in these.” You put up some tights and baby pink towels. 

“Uh?”

“I know these are not bandages but it’s what I have, okay, so I’m putting the towel there and then wrapping it in place with the tights.” 

Spider-Man had no other option so he sighed, giving you green light. 

The wrapping ended with various grunts and low cursing coming mostly from him but you also collaborated with a few big heavy words as it wasn’t an easy job to do but it got completed, your forehead had pearls of sweat at the end of it.

Sitting beside Spider-Man you felt the warmth coming from his body, unexpectedly his thumb came to caress the side of your forehead, right up your temple, you looked at him moving your head away just a little. 

“You have blood there.” He simply mumbled but made no effort to move his hand. You kind of didn’t want him to.

“It's fine,” hand went flying up your face, clumsily touching Spider-Man’s on the way, it was probably the adrenaline still running up your veins that caused the almost electroshocking reaction inside you. 

Spider-Man’s hand fell on his lap and Percy quickly ran to nuzzle against his fingers.

“All right then.“ He said as he scratched the dog’s ear. “You know how to be adorable and make me feel better.” 

“Hey, I did all the hard work” of course you were going to complain. 

“And I’ll forever be grateful for it, but Percy is adorable, look at that face.” 

You instantly notice he felt better, that was a big relief.

“You are adorable too. Is that what you wanted me to say?” 

You scoffed. “No, but I am indeed very adorable and also very intimidating.”

Now it was his turn to scoff. “Absolutely not, you are small and cute. Not one hair of intimidation in your body, y/n come on let’s be for real now.” 

The weariness made you laugh at that. “You are such a pain in the ass Spider-Man, I fucking patched you up and you are making fun of me, that’s not the way to go man,”

You tried to ignore the fact that he had called you cute, that had caused your belly to do a flip. 

He went silent, you instantly went to look at him, he couldn’t die now, right?

“You okay? And be honest, please.” Jokes aside, you were still worried.

He nodded eagerly. “I do feel better, a little bad that I ruined your towels and the floor will need a good scrub later.”

“Don't worry about it, I can charge people to come see the spot and become a billionaire.”

Your smirk made him chuckle. “Funny, but I’d ask for my share.” 

“No way, it’s my apartment and you came for help, that’s how you pay me for ruining the floor.”

“Oh so you do care about me ruining the floor with my blood.”

You gasped, offended. “You are truly the worst, just for the record I don’t care, the idea seems like a good way of making easy money.”

“At my expenses.”

“Yeah, but you owe me.” Your broken arm went up to remind him, he shook his head.

“I thought I covered that up already… I see how things are now.”

You laughed, and he mirrored you, only that his laugh was followed by winces. 

“Let me get you some water… Are you hungry?” you got up, noticing now that your pajama had dark red spots spattered.

“Your look is very Carrie.” 

“Thanks to you,”

“Always happy to provide.” 

Again, a pain in the ass this masked boy was. “Want a sandwich?” 

“That’d be great actually, thanks.” 

As you prepared sandwiches and tea, you had the unsettling feeling that Spider-Man would either disappear or die right after you dared to divert your gaze for even a millisecond, him lying there in the still fresh pond of blood. The gears kept on running inside your brain, making you peek through the door every couple of minutes to see him and calm your unsettled self. He was still in place, Percy with now pinkish fur sprawled on Spider-Man’s lap where he was brushing the tiny dog’s head. 

Warm and toasty bread was all there was to smell in the apartment. You put the plates on the coffee table, one at a time, then the tea and then you went to gather bed sheets to put on the couch.

“Sit up here, you will be more comfortable.” You didn’t ask, your tone pretty much demanding,

Spider-Man didn’t argue with you but he complained about the obviously painful wounds. You were wary about every move, every deep breath and sigh he made, you observed him, your sandwich rested cold on the plate, opposite to Spider-Man he was devouring the simple meal you made for him, you offered him your own food and he looked at you, and even though he had that stupid red mask on, you could feel the intensity of his eyes, those white big bug eyes that made you wonder what their real color was. 

Spider-Man had thin lips, not too thin but they weren’t plush, they were pink even with all the blood lose, that gave you some relief; his jaw was strong and sharp, a little stubble was resurfacing form the skin and he had a kind smile, you liked how he smiled at you.

“Stop looking at me like that, I’m not going to die… at most I’m gonna finish all the food you have in the apartment.” He said munching on the last bit of sandwich. 

Warmth crept through your neck. “Sorry, I’m a bit worried…”

“I—yeah, right it was all my fault sorry. You would be sound asleep if it wasn’t for me.” 

He moved, almost ready to leave the place but his body refused, he grunted and plopped back on the couch.

“Shit,” he said, mask down again.

“You can say as long as you need.” You went on to collect the dirty dishes and somehow you expected the hero to protest or try to help you but he simply sighed. 

You didn’t make the effort to wash dishes, instead you did what it was a necessity now. More towels and the mop, a bucket with a bunch of cleaning products got translated to the crime-scene-looking-spot in your living room.

“Whoa! Hey, I am definitely not letting you clean that.” Spider-Man quickly got up and after a moment of dizziness he kneeled beside you. “Give me that.” 

“Hell no, you just sit there, you really need to rest. I have this under control, and it’s my apartment so you just stay put, watch tv, or even better get some sleep and stop bothering me.”

“But it’s unfair, I—I caused this.” 

“Yeah but you can’t clean it, you can pay for it later.”

He got up and sat on the couch. “Just because I’m really not feeling well I’ll let it pass… but it hurts me to see that you’re getting rid of that art work.”

“Uh huh, it was a great gift to humankind but I don’t think people would come see it either way, no one would believe me it’s your blood.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to hide a smile. The words caused the reaction you wanted when you heard the boy gasp.

“You only said people would pay to see it to make me feel better?” eyes found his body, he had a hand on his chest, clearly taking the offense to a dramatic level. “So low of you y/n, I trusted you.”

“What can I say Spidey,”

You heard him chuckle after that and your chest felt funny. 

“Has anyone ever told you you are too nice? Like seriously, any other person would’ve kicked me out or would’ve called the police but you… you are insane, woman.”

The laugh you let out made him react the same way. “I just accepted you because you brought coffee and bought me pizza, and because you like New Girl just as much as me now.”

“How convenient.” 

“That’s just the truth.” at least you tried to convince yourself of it.

“Well… thank you.”

“No need, you’d do the same for me.” The spot of crimson liquid was now gone, a light stain remaining. Your brows knitted. “You wouldn’t let me die in your living room, right?”

“Of course not, I’d leave you in an alley.” 

“Ha ha funny.”

Both of you kept silent but only for a brief moment because Spider-Man made sure you heard him.

Web fluid took the mop from your hand, making you look his way. 

“Y/n I promise you that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe… look what I’ve done now; condemning you to a friendship after I broke your arm and you saved my life, I think we are stuck together.” 

The way your smile only grew into a beam after those words, being attached to Spider-Man didn’t sound bad at all. 

“I like that promise,”

You weren’t sure how but you knew that the boy hidden inside that suit was beaming at you the same way you did. 

The floor got mopped, the air smelt fresh and Spider-Man was lightly snoring on your couch as Percy finally laid on his fluffy bed, after seeing his pink painted paws you made a mental note to shower him. 

Carefully you sat back on the free space on the couch, trying your best to not wake the boy there. Eyes scanned every inch of his body several times, making sure his chest was moving and his body wasn’t tense. Your mind was running wild thinking of having him there at all times, to have someone to talk to, someone who could help you cook or take Percy for a walk. And it was creepy to think about such things when you had no idea who was the boy sleeping on your couch, yes it was Spider-Man but who was he really.

The night swallowed your thoughts and wonders, making your eyes flutter, each blink slower, until you couldn’t resist it anymore, you were sure he was fine now so no worries were keeping you from resting. Still somewhere in your subconscious you were on alert, and the moment you felt the shifting on the couch you woke. Spider-Man was ready to go, you knew, it was all in the way he was standing.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered as if someone would hear him.

“Stay,” you mumbled, feeling the slumber heavy in your eyelids and body.

“Can’t… I have to go now, but I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?”

You barely heard him whisper this to you, but you nodded your head. A breeze made you snuggle between the cushions, noticing a blanket over your curled body, soon you were dreaming of being able to drive your bike, to wash dishes with both hands, to finally shower properly.

Part 1 - Part 3

#tasm fanfiction #tasm fic #tasm!peter fluff #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x you #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker reader insert #reader insert #spiderman x reader #spiderman fluff #spiderman x y/n #spiderman fanfiction #post no way home #mutual pining #protective peter parker

[straightupsickfics]

I'm just skipping around the sicktember prompts and wanted some soft, sick, very dramatic Ed so...<3

Sicktember Prompt #16: Diagnosing oneself via the internet 

****

“Stede. Stede?” Ed pokes Stede in the side, tossing his phone away with a sign of defeat. They’d been laying in bed for the last hour or so, and Ed is sick, yes, but more than that he’s fucking bored. 

“Yes, dear?” Stede asks, though one eye is still firmly on the book in his hand. 

“Dunno how to tell you this…” Ed starts, which gets him Stede’s full attention, and a little look of alarm, blond eyebrows lifting in concern. 

“Just tell me, please,” Stede says. The book is forgotten as his face scrunches up, impatient now, too. Ed loves his little dramatic expressions, could easily watch Stede’s face all day. 

“M’dying,” Ed informs him. 

“Oh my god… Edward! Don’t scare me like that,” Stede says, rolling his eyes. 

Ed coughs into his fist, the gesture all too familiar after dealing with this cold over the last few days. It’d started on Thursday, made itself known to everyone in earshot by Friday, and was making him miserable by Saturday. Now, it’s Sunday, and Ed is really fucking done with all of it. The medicine every four hours, the constant fucking sneezing, then blowing his nose, then coughing, all of it a cycle he cannot manage to break. 

Ed hates being sick. 

“Well, WedMD says I have mere days to live, and it feels it, too. I can’t go on, Stede. Can’t breathe, m’all…hot and cold, no matter what I do… My knee’s fucked for good this time, I think…” Ed trails off, blinking pathetically at Stede. 

Er, no, scratch that, it’s more than blinking, his eyes are shutting because he’s actually—

“hh’Eeeiishh! Huh! Uh’ishhHH! Ih’ISHIEW! God... fuck, sorry,” Ed says, sniffling into a well-worn tissue. 

“God bless you! Poor Edward,” Stede says sweetly.

He passes Ed a fresh handful of tissues and tucks the thick, crocheted afghan more tightly around them both, making sure Ed’s socked feet are covered. 

“Though surely you didn’t type all of that into WebMD,” Stede muses.

Apparently satisfied with his work with the blankets, he leans over and presses a kiss to Ed’s forehead. “You are a little warm… But you just have a cold, sweetheart,” he promises. 

“Feels like death to me,” Ed says dubiously.

He leans over and grabs the whole box of tissues and helps himself to a handful. His nose feels rubbed raw at this point, even though Stede had gotten the fancy ones, all soft and lotion-y. He’d even managed to find a box that smelled like lavender, too, but that had proven to be a mistake, sending Ed into an onslaught of sneezes, his nose apparently too sensitive for nice things when he’s got a cold this bad. 

Ed crumples the tissues in his hand and adds them to the growing pile on the bedside table with a grimace; he’d have to do something about that soo. He’s made himself a fucking germ den, though what they’re actually doing is having a bit of a lazy Sunday. This had been Stede’s idea, too, of course, so Ed could rest and relax. But with the sunlight streaming in through the windows it’s hard not to think about the million and one things they could be doing instead. 

Beside him, Stede chuckles, kisses Ed’s nose, which fucks with him every time, too, making his whole chest go stupidly tight and warm. It’s such a small thing, he knows, but it’s Stede, and with Stede nothing is really a small thing. 

Now, Stede rolls over closer to him, pulling Ed into his chest until he’s tucked in close. Ed shivers once against Stede, relief at the warmth, at the contact…all of it. He snuggles himself in, letting his eyes fall shut when Stede lifts a hand and runs it gently through his hair. It’s in need of a wash, he knows, but Stede won’t mind that, either, Ed knows. Hasn’t minded any of it, really, though he’s going to be sick himself in a matter of days. 

“There, that’s a bit better now, isn’t it?” Stede asks. 

Ed can hear the smug little smile in Stede’s voice, because he knows, of course, that he’s right. He knows that Ed can’t resist exactly this—being held warm and close, Stede all but wrapped around him, germs be damned.

“Feels less like death is imminent, yeah,” Ed admits He still feels like shit, his knee still completely hates him, and he’ll sneeze and cough about a million more times over the next few days, but it’s miles better than before. 

#my fic #of//md #sicktember

[not-poignant]

I hope it's okay to ask, but how are things? Looking forward to Underline The Gold on Sunday so much

Omg I'm looking forward to it too

Tbh I'm up to chapter 8 on that now so we're ready to really start pushing ahead with some of the side stories which is exciting

As for me, it's been pretty rough, anon, not gonna lie. I'm going to put this under a read more because I'm pretty honest and also because there's more than one 'I might have cancer' mention among other things:

I kind of thought I was doing fine and then it all got on top of me a couple of days ago and (self-harm mention) I ended up self-injuring due to autistic meltdown. Sometimes I don't realise how bad things really are until I'm at that stage and I have bruises and soft tissue damage to show for it. I've since talked to my doctor and therapist about it, but like...oof.

I've actually been taking a break from writing since I've hit 50k and I generally have a rule that I have to take at least 2-4 days off once I've hit that point, but I'm still pretty stuffed, but mostly for health reasons. I've written 14 chapters this month so I feel okay about the break lol.

On Friday (the day after the meltdown) I needed to have a hand X-ray (even right now, the knuckles in my left hand are really sore), see my GP for 40 minutes, talk to my therapist, organise an iron infusion (I have microcytic anemia and need an iron infusion again, which I think is my 5th or 6th - I need one about once every 2-3 years, and mostly the time between is the slow downward spiral of losing more and more iron until I'm truly fucked) and a meeting with one of the head haematologists in the state because my red blood cells are bullshit and weird (yay). Guess that explains the exhaustion.

I still need to organise a lymph node ultrasound (which is probably nothing, except there is like a 'higher than average' chance it could be metastatic cancer, since I do have tumours in my head right now that could metastasize, and the tumours are extremely close to the swollen lymph node - also I haven't had a virus).

I need to organise a meeting with a dermatologist, I need to organise a full abdominal MRI to see if I have any other tumours we don't know about, and I got an eating disorder management plan for restrictive eating, which does entitle me to like...cheaper dietitian appointments, but also formalises me as having an ED as opposed to 'disordered eating.'

On top of that I had to deal with a tribunal after my Dad had a catastrophic stroke a few months ago, and the tribunal was last month, to determine who would look after him. Our family is so broken and my stepmother so manipulative/vindictive that the government decided no one could be trusted and took care of his finances and healthcare themselves meaning none of us can have any real say in his future (truly the best outcome, but a damning one for the state of the family), and I also had to listen to my stepmother accuse my sister of being a criminal for 20 minutes with completely unfounded lies, and of course, my Dad has had a catastrophic stroke, and that's complicated. That's a whole...

That saga is so much anon, I cannot even begin to explain even the tip of that iceberg.

I've been spending a lot of extra time like scanning family photos and other things and packing items in his home for storage etc. and while that's been done now for over a month and a half, I guess the burn out started some time ago and it's just been slowly getting on top of me. Kind of the 'slowly boiling a lobster in a pot' analogy.

I've been overall quieter on Tumblr as a result of all of this, and it all just...destroyed me on Thursday, and ever since then I've been recovering.

I've just realised it's nearly 1.00am and I swear the last time I looked at the clock - which felt like 5 minutes ago - it was 11.00pm.

Oh and to top it all off I've had vicious 'not falling asleep until 4.00am' insomnia + increased nightmares because my PTSD has relapsed back into 'pretty severe.' So um, managing most nights on 3-4 hours of sleep a night, and that's bad for all my chronic illnesses, of which I have many.

Ah. Yeah. :(

Lemme rustle up some good news for you, anon, because I feel like this is just too much crap.

Bushflowers/wildflowers are really nice right now as it's turning to spring in Western Australia (it's Djilba in the Noongar seasonal system, which I prefer)

Rhubarb is in season so I'm making a lot of stewed apple and rhubarb as a comfort food.

Reading the manhwa Punch Drunk Love and enjoying it.

Asks like yours - even if all of this sounds dire - helps me to undestand that I actually do have good reasons to feel tired and that it's okay to take breaks and that's really valuable (sometimes - though rarely - people use my anon function to talk at me, rather than talking to me as a person, and I just...really value feeling like a person sometimes aslfkjsa) so while I might seem down, this has actually been nice to end my night on. Also you've reminded me that I am super excited/happy to share more Underline the Gold with people

I got some organisational stuff and organising stuff in the house makes me feel good.

I have an extremely good doctor and tbh for a long time I didn't, so like, every good specialist and doctor is worth their weight in gold. :)

I hope you're doing okay and looking after yourself / taking care anon, and that you get something good out of what remains of the weekend. <3 And for everyone who needs one, hugs are on the house.

#personal #cw cancer mention #cw self injury #cw PTSD #cw major depressive disorder #maybe you just wanted me to say that things are going good #but i assume folks know what i'm really like sdfalkfjsa #i'll generally be honest #and just give folks the option not to read it lol #anon i am on the strugglebus #i am going to bed #and i hope i'm not still awake and having flashbacks #in 4 hours #but like who knows salkfjsafs #actually last night was a lil better so maybe /crosses fingers

[laurelnose]

good news! I don’t have a brain tumor 🥰

so basically what happened is

mid-december: i acquire Debilitating Migraine, 10 out of 10 worst pain I’ve felt in my entire fucking life Migraine, worse than the time I spent three weeks recovering from major surgery completely sober because I am inexplicably resistant to just about every class of painkiller I’ve ever tried Migraine. (I actually only rank the surgery experience about a 6 out of 10 on the pain scale.) we get the migraine down to Bad But Manageable by locating several new Christmas light strings that turned out to be flickering at speeds the human eye could not detect but my human brain certainly could and throwing them all out. I make a doctor’s appointment.

last week: I finally see my PCP. she prescribes me a triptan, which is an abortive med that is meant to stop migraine attacks. the triptan decreases the headache but does not remove it entirely. also, the damn thing keeps getting worse again. I try it three times over the week, which is the maximum number of times you’re supposed to take a triptan in a month. almost like you’re not supposed to have more than three headaches in a month or something?? weird. well, technically I haven’t had three. it’s all the Same Damn Headache.

this same day I also pick up a topiramate prescription, which is a preventative. i am advised i can start the topiramate even if i am not pain free. maybe if i give it a day or two it will help even if i am currently having an attack??

wednesday i see my PCP for followup and tell her i am still in pain. she offers to get me squeezed in to have an intramuscular toradol (heavy-duty NSAID) shot. this kicks in within 20 minutes and doubles my migraine pain. I was at 3-ish and now I am at 6 and unhappy about it.

i do not come back down from the level the toradol kicked me up to. i survive thursday by not doing very much of anything.

uh? holy shit? yeah, sure?

friday the pain becomes unbearable. back up to an 8, which isn’t the worst it’s been but it’s also Day Forty Fucking Two and I’m so tired. I leave work early & go to urgent care where they pump me fulla benadryl and dexamethasone. absolutely none of this is fun — the dexamethasone feels like a panic attack and the benadryl makes me dizzy and light-headed + makes it very hard to think of words? what the shit do people take benadryl recreationally for? but! the pain diminishes dramatically. after the IV’s done they get me in for a CT scan and are like hey! you don’t have a brain tumor! (I was not actually worried I had a brain tumor but it’s always nice to rule it out.) but you do have a sinus infection and a bunch of fluid buildup that’s probably triggering the migraine. (really? but I haven’t been congested?) yeah, no, it’s really deep in there. do you wanna do antibiotics and sudafed about that to clear up the fluid?

saturday morning the head pain is back but it’s mild and it feels LIKE A FUCKING SINUS HEADACHE and not a migraine anymore oh my god. Guess what kinds of headaches are fucking fixable and tend not to be intractable and unpreventable. It’s also like, a manageable amount of pain? It hurts but I feel okay?? I get thru work without taking my breaks in the dark with a heat pad? I look at headlights on the dark road coming home and am not immediately debilitated? 😭 Maybe in a week and a half when the antibiotics course is done I will actually just be Fine??

I really shoulda gone to urgent care back in December. Too bad I didn’t quite realize you could go to urgent care for migraines until I’d seen my PCP for the first time and that couldn’t happen earlier bc, well, appointments are hard to come by.

I’m wondering in hindsight if the triptan WAS kicking the migraine more effectively than I thought it was and i couldn’t tell because I had a sinus headache underneath (which kept bringing the migraine back). this also explains why I was getting decent results with Vick’s VapoRub LMAO. Like some people do swear by menthol for migraines but it was probably helping the congestion too.

anyways this is why I’ve been quiet. I will be quiet for a little while longer probably bc the sinus headache is still not fun but it is getting better. in fact i had to get up and eat breakfast to take my antibiotic but it is sunday and i don’t actually want to be awake so i think i’m going back to bed

i am never letting anyone talk me into taking another NSAID ever fucking again.

#laurelnose.txt

[rayshippouuchiha]

So, this is a complaint about my parents, i have health issues, I also have an essay due in 4 days, I've been working on the essay since saturday but on sunday i had a bad health day so I couldn't work on it, my mother has been largely helpful but has repeatedly mentioned I should've started earlier/"shouldn't do this to myself again" over the course of the last three days. Today just now I snapped, saying that I had a different essay to work on 2 weeks ago was met with 'well dad was telling you you needed to start all last week' I explained that I finished the last essay on sunday, and the next day my dad was immediately pressuring me about the next one, I didn't have a class with the guy in charge of the essay until wednesday and he's slow to come back by email so even if I'd emailed him on monday i would still have probably had to wait to get the recommended reading for the essay on wednesday, I didn't have my library card with me on wednesday due to accidentally leaving it behind, struggled to get the sources for the essay on thursday only getting three from the library, but on friday I went to three different libraries and couldn't get them. Thus started studying and working on the essay in earnest on Saturday when I found the remaining two online thanks to the power or piracy. Granted there are definitely moments I could've been working already on the essay. But I literally didn't have all the sources until Saturday, didn't have what sources I needed until wednesday, couldn't look for them on wednesday after getting my library card/college ID due to a family thing so really at best 2 or 3 days in the difference.

My parents of course do not care about any of this and in their opinion were just trying to say it to me while I am insane and quote acting more aggrieved than a population that's had war crimes committed to it.

This is patently unfair! The fucking 'you know your healths like this so you need to be better organised' shit is constant whether or not I have assignments due, but the fact that they just would not miss an opportunity to repeatedly blame me for the pressure I'm under with this essay in particular is the whole reason I lost my temper. Like yes, absolutely I could've emailed regarding the recommended sources for the second essay two weeks ago while working on the former one, but I was under pressure over the first essay then and I didn't think of it, yes I could've started reading the sources I did have this week earlier, but I was focused on getting the other ones because this essay literally requires at least 5 of the recommended reading sources so I was anxious about it. It might be my fault but repeatedly criticising me over it and then acting like I'm bullying them when they gang up to tell me not to act like the victim over my mother repeatedly doing this little dig about starting sooner next time, fucking any chance she gets. (it might come from a place of concern but it doesn't make it easier to deal with when I'm trying to work) Gah

Oh darling. Take a moment, take a deep breath, just give yourself a second to decompress. It sounds to me like you've done the best you could with what you had access to under the circumstances.

As for your parents? Even if your parents are normally supportive that doesn't make them perfect and that doesn't mean you can't be hurt by/frustrated with them.

It's a common trap for even the most supportive people to fall into the mindset of "you can just plan/schedule/organize around your illness" despite that not always being possible.

Things happen, emergencies crop up, you can't force other people to operate on your own schedule, sometimes feeling/being overwhelmed just halts you in your tracks, etc etc.

I'm sorry that you're having these issues with them and while I always advocate open communication if it's safe I do know that sometimes it's not an option/doesn't work.

Just, take a few hours, take a warm shower or eat a snack, something that helps you unwind, and give yourself that moment to reset.

If you're feeling up to it maybe see if you can reach out to your teachers to get a list of essays/resources you might be coming up against in the future way ahead of time so you have more time to get your materials together.

If that's not an option then just keep doing what you're doing, try your best, and know that what matters is that you're still pushing forward.

#RayRambles

[chopper-witch]

Ritual 777: Dead Men Don’t Rape

Eddie Muson x female!reader; Jennifer’s Body!AU

Minors DNI. I will find and tell your parents or guardians.

Story title inspired by Ritual 777 by Temple Twins

Chapter title inspired by Dead Men Don’t Rape by 7 Year Bitch

I will have a full playlist soon. I swear. It’s almost done.

WC: 1,700+

Warnings: being really, really sick; attempted rape; reader you eat someone alive lmfao not sorry; you eat brains and a heart; something that could be considered fatphobia?; imo I underdescribed reader’s actions but y’all will be the judge of THAT; death (obviously), please do not read my shit if you can’t handle or shouldn’t be watching game of thrones/euphoria/etc.

A/N: This chapter has no Eddie in it at all (again). It deviates from Jennifer’s Body in several ways but it fits better to later plans. Finally, I have like,,, mad bad dyslexia so please forgive all mistakes I put this through grammarly and like regular spell check and did all the other techniques I was taught/

I also don’t really like this chapter, it feels incomplete despite from beginning to end it being all I want :(. 

Prior Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Do gods die? 

Demons?

You?

“I’ve got you.”

————

You don’t think you’ve ever been so sick in your life. 

Wednesday night blurs into Thursday blurs into Friday blurs into Saturday into Sunday. You have no idea if you did your homework or did that test in history or even made it to any of the council meetings or —

You’ve become ravenously hungry as well, but everything you eat or drink turns into the black sludge you vomited up before. 

With the little energy you have left on Sunday night, you go biking to the store almost twenty miles away as a last-ditch effort. They’re the only place in all of Roane County to have a watermelon slushie flavor and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. The only thing you might, might be able to stomach.

“No offense, but you look like you’re dying,” the cashier says in a monotone voice. 

You take the bag from him and just stare into his eyes which are just as dead as yours likely look. “I had no idea, thank you.” 

“No problem. Have a goodnight.” 

You sigh and shake your head as you walk away. “Yeah, you too.” 

The door slides open and a man leaning against the wall stands up straight. He was there when you went in, smoking, and still there now. You’ve learned there is usually a man lingering outside convenience stores surrounded only by forests, smoking. Good place to linger without being told to leave, you figure.

The cigarette lands at your feet and you keep walking. 

“What’re you doing out here so late? Not safe for a girl like you.”

Oh, Christ. Just one day without shit being like a punishment from the universe, please.

You ignore him, placing the bag and slushie in your basket and getting started on unlocking your bike. 

“I could drive you home. Be safer. Just ask you do a little something for me.”

Why are some men so fucking gross? And why is this lock stuck?

Right. Denied Cherie’s offer to get you a new one. Should have taken her up on it. Then maybe the guy wouldn’t be two feet from you and instead, you would already be halfway through the lot.

You are beginning to mount your bike, leg swinging over it when a pair of hands grab your shoulders and yank you back. 

“I was trying to talk to you, bitch!”

Long lost is your balance as the bike goes crashing to the ground, the slushie splattering all over the pavement. The man has you poorly balanced on one leg as he continues to pull you backward.

Your eyes shut. 

At least there will be my side. At least there will be proof. At least maybe that damn cashier will run out. 

His grip tights on one shoulder, the other wrapping around your neck. 

You gasp. 

You thrash. Actually thrash this time. There are no drugs to keep you physically down.

There are also no drugs to keep you partially numb, sedated, help you hallucinate through this. 

“I’ve got you.”

“Get off of me!” 

The man goes flying. 

Through the air. 

And with a loud and sick crunch, his skull hits against the edge of the sign’s corner.

You turn. He’s lying nearly forty feet away like a rag doll on the ground. Your feet are bringing you closer despite the bile creeping up your throat begging you to stay away. But you get to him regardless, peering over his bleeding-out body.

“Hey, are you okay?” You stupidly ask. “I didn’t mean to—” 

Your voice dies in your throat. 

Your mouth floods with saliva.

That ravenous hunger seems to have found its solution in the form of a cracked skull bleeding all over the pavement. 

You are leaning in and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Animalistic instincts are something you’ve understood but never comprehended, but this must be it. The feeling like there is a magnet yanking your mouth to the mess of blood on the ground in front of you, no thoughts guiding it there, just the pull. The weight.

There is a beat barely an inch above the pooling mess. A thought holds you back, a moment of hesitation. 

A moment of humanity.

Just a taste. That’s all.

Just one, tiny, itty bitty, little…

It’s sweeter than you imagined. Blood always had a metallic, tangy taste when you got a paper cut and stuck your finger in your mouth to calm it. It’s supposed to be tangy like that. Iron and all that jazz.

This is like honey on peaches. Sweet, a fruity kind of savory. 

You go back for another taste. 

“Get off of me!” The man gurgles, eyes barely blinking conscious for a second.

You pull back. Your head tilts as your eyes stare into his. 

He screams. 

And you go straight for his neck. 

Who cares when this guy tried to assault a teenage girl? 

Who cares when his fear flows into you, pumping the energy you’ve been missing into your veins, his blood and flesh? 

Who cares when a surge of power like you’ve never felt burns in your veins?

It must be the adrenaline or the cortisol or something that is making him slowly taste sweeter as his blood surges out even more. Fear hormones flooding his body, his blood, making it all the more delightful for you. 

All of this for you. 

Every ounce of fat ends spit out, an ever-growing pile of human fat now next to where his mutilated corpse lies. Organs are devoured at almost lightning speed and muscle? 

You don’t know how the cashier hasn’t walked into the scene with how much you are savoring the muscles. 

Stringy here and there, sure. Underdeveloped in some places, sure. But so full of... 

protein. 

What lies last is his heart, his lungs, his liver, and his absolute eviscerated brain. the lungs and liver you haven’t dared touch, one sniff and you knew they were bad. 

The brain is practically begging to be eaten. Already ground up for you, skull cracked open like a bowl. 

The first piece is... mushy. Wet. Tempting to spit out on texture alone. 

But the taste?

It tastes like heaven. What was that in your psychology class again? Neuro... neurotransmitters? They must have lit his brain up with fear when he died, when he saw you above him, and flooded him with the most delicious flavoring you have ever tasted in your life. 

So you slurp it all down, even scrape the edges of the skull and the concrete to make sure to brain matter is left uneaten. 

The heart. 

It disconnects easily, seeing as pretty much everything else around it but some muscle and connective tissue is gone. 

You hold his heart up to the light.. You’ve never seen one in real life, just the fake one in bio class. And a pig one, in bio class. For a muscle, it’s awfully gummy feeling. Not quite as stringy.

Your teeth sink into it with trepidation. 

It’s… chewy, sticky, 

perfect.

One small bite turns into two normal ones turns into three large ones until you are savagely shoving the muscle down your throat as fast as you can. 

The cashier impressively never comes out still. 

The world sings when you open your eyes again. 

Glows brighter than before. The parking lot lights are surrounded by a brilliant halo. The neon store sign pulses like it’s alive.

Something sings in the distance. Angelic in quality but completely indistinguishable. 

It’s so beautiful. 

Gentle. 

Fragile.

There’s still the shredded carcass of a man to your left, complete with a pile of fat and a lake of blood. 

The river is just over the road and down another a half-mile. A few weeks in there and it will just be an accident of some kind, consumed by animals.

No. No. 

Someone needs to see this. See what you did to this man. This man who tried to hurt you. 

Maybe the store employee when the store closes in twenty minutes or so. Then the cops. Then the local news. 

Then maybe regional and if it gains enough traction, national. 

That… that feels better. Feels right. 

Your hands search for his wallet. Someone needs to be able to identify this man who is no more than a shattered skeleton and pile of ground human at this point. 

Frank York. East Hawkins. 57. 

“You were a real asshole, Frank York.”

You snap the wallet close but keep the ID outside of it. Then you place both roughly where his heart should be. Easier to identify the mess that has become his body.

The blood wipes off fairly easily from your skin and onto wherever it isn’t on your clothes but the color still remains. Blood stains aren’t just for clothes, you suppose. Blood red looks good on your skin. Like it’s meant to match, destined to be sticking to you. 

You settle on your bike, ready to ride home through the woods instead of on the main roads. It’s not Halloween anymore. Looking like Carrie on a random Sunday will raise at least a little suspicion.

But wait. He has more to give, surely. 

You pick it back up, take the money (which is only a few dollars ultimately) out with your mostly blood-free hands, and place it back on top of him. He’s dead. It’s not like he’s gonna need it. 

Right?

Of course, you get called back one last time. Right about to mount your bike, something just drags you back.

Your finger swipes into a small pool of blood and you lean over where his ID is, carefully crossing out his name with the now quickly congealing substance.

Dead men don’t rape, but they do provide potentially a lucrative form of making money and an unbelievable rush of power. 

————

Freshly cleaned from the blood stains and sitting on your bed, you stare at the clothing gripped in your hands.

You should feel some kind of… emotion. Sadness. Anger. Concern. Anything. You should be having a Lady Macbeth moment. A moment so dramatic that the English teacher has to literally tell Cherie to get off the floor before she sends her to the office. 

Again.

Out damned spot, out I say! You should be shouting as you fall to the ground and rub your hands raw, Mrs. Jenkins telling you you can get up now, that’s enough. And you should be getting up with tears in your eyes after ten more minutes, acting like going is some great offense to your pain.

But you just feel…

Content. 

Peaceful.

Satiated. 

Yes, that’s it. Satiated. 

Instead of throwing the jumpsuit and jacket out as you should, or even burning them, you toss them into a box with some of the awards you’ve gotten over the years. 

The clothes settle nicely between a handful of perfect attendance awards from elementary and some academic honors whatever you got freshman year. 

First kill award!

Then you settle into bed, drifting off to a peaceful sleep for the first time in nearly a week. 

————

Prior Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #ritual 777 #jennifers body au #rape tw #tw rape #tw attempted rape #tw murder #murder tw #murder #rape

[insidekaz]

And Thus, Everything Is Tumbling Down

(I know that's a weird way to start another one of my strange post. It'll be explained later. Prepare for a pretty lengthy blog today.)

Hello people of the internet. It's me, Kaz, your local enby who messed up so hard that they put themselves on the couch, only for my partner to come and get me and bring me to bed. Before you say anything, I know that that's also a strange way to start off a post that basically going to turn into a public self-shaming post, but try to trust me when I say that all of this will be explained in the next few minutes (well, hours for me. I don't exactly plan on sitting down and typing all of this out in one sitting.)

I'll start off by saying that I've been stressed lately. No job, places saying that they're hiring but not calling me back, the cost of living being diabolically bonkers, all of that. Doesn't help that while I'm at home applying for jobs and doing side hustles, my partner is pulling extra hours at its job to make sure that we don't drown in this capitalistic economy.

That's not the reason why I feel like everything's falling faster than a tower of Jenga blocks. The reason is because of one major flaw with my personal psychological programming and how I go about trying (and failing) to fix it. Man, this post sure is colorful today. Anyway, I have this...thing in my head that annoys me if there's information that's made apparent that I don't know or the possibility of an event that can happen. For example, if someone were to tell me "Hey, I'm planning a surprise for you.", it'll start to bother me to no end until I gather all the information needed figure out what that surprise could be, thus spoiling the surprise for myself in the process. Or, and this is the more relevant example, if there's something that I'm made aware could result in something bad happen, I, for some fucking reason, act upon my impulses and try to get that bad thing to happen. Usually, I'm stopped before said bad thing could happen and that usually calms me down for the time being.

Yes, it's just as infuriating as you're thinking it is, both of me and everyone around me. Yes, I have tried to control this impulses in the past. And yes, I have continuously failed to keep these impulses under control.

This time, this was different. I'm not going to go into exact detail of what happened, but I will alluded to the idea that I almost invoked a pretty bad situation that almost ended in property damage. Of course, as always, the chaos was halted. Yet, that doesn't make the situation magically better. I know, shocker. Above all of that, it was my significant other that had to calm everything down. I'm not gonna lie or try to justifying what most people would think and say "Oh, it was the autism making me do those things." That would be disrespectful to other people with autism and just blatant dishonesty. I will admit and say that those were conscious actions that I made of my own accord, me allowing and enabling the impulsive thoughts to (somewhat) win. This was a situation that didn't need to happen between the two of us, and now things are more than rocky.

Oh, and then get this! Yesterday afternoon, after being on no-talking terms for about a full day (Thursday night to Friday evening), we actually get to talk about what happen. Well, it was less both of us talking and it was more my partner talking and pointing out my bullshit and me just, well, taking it. I mean, I couldn't really refute anything that was being said to me. This wasn't the first time that I allowed my impulse to get the better of me, nor could I really apologize again cause, while it would be meaningful, I couldn't guarantee that this wouldn't happen again. I'm a person of chaos, advocate for the viewership of each and every possible outcome that can happen on a quantum scale, leaning more towards the good ones, yet the bad ones always pique my curiosity. So, with no other options in which I believed I could contribute to the conversation, you wanna take a shot in the dark as to what my next actions were?

I ran away. I'm not even kidding. Imagine the most brisk walk from a living room to an office on the other side of the apartment that you can, all while keeping my head down to avoid any further eye contact. ...Yeah. I did that. Willingly if I may add.

I know, 10/10. Amazing strategy there Kaz. Encore, please. But seriously, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking at the time and I still don't know now. My usual avoidance of conflict has basically turned into a fear of conflict at this point in my life. I mean, seriously, what was I thinking? Nothing's gonna get better by me hiding in my office. Even when I was done for the night and put myself on the couch, my partner realized I wasn't in bed and came to get me. I could've talked about it then. Hell, I could've said something, anything. Yet, I didn't. I just rolled over and went to bed, allowing the silence to go on ever longer. Again, what does that say about us? What does that say about me? Usually at this point in the relationship, one would be asking themselves whether they're becoming a burden to their partner, but is that a question I can even ask myself? Have I ever not been a burden to them? Am I becoming a burden to both of my partners? Like I said, I could've said the smallest thing, even a "good night", but I didn't. I just...laid there and fell asleep, probably making them think that I had just forgotten about everything or just didn't care.

I'm unpredictable. I'm loud when it comes to my chaotic ideas, Yet, I'm silent when it comes to apologizing. I'm confident when it comes to my aspirations, But timid when it comes to admitting I'm wrong. I'm constantly writing, constantly thinking, constantly typing out my ideas, words in which I'll write a million of to get my imaginations across, Yet I can't find the words when they matter most. ...the fuck's wrong with you Kameron?

I've got all these big ideas, these dreams, these ambitions of what I want my life to be, where I want to be, who I want to be with. I've written miles and miles of short stories, beginnings of novels, documents within documents of world-building. I'm able to do all this, but I can never seem to find the words when they're needed to be said.

How does one say that they're sorry when they've shown otherwise?

How do I get over these feelings about myself?

#insidekaz #kameronkazma #nonbinary #asexual #kaz #rant #depresed

[a-polite-melody]

Me: “Man I feel like absolute shit today. I kinda hate myself for feeling like shit. I don’t think I want to be alive.”

Me: *glances at my pill organizer*

Me: “Oh, today’s Friday, not Thursday. I forgot to take my meds yesterday. How the hell do I feel like this after missing one day of meds? I don’t think I wan— Wait. This will loop infinitely if I think about it more.”

Me: “…but I don’t want to be alive. And I feel this bad because I didn’t take my pills for one day, which makes me feel even less like I want to be alive and I feel this way because I didn’t take my pills for one day, whi— FUCK”

#about me #this has been my morning so far :))))) #suicide tw #I guess?

[dadsbongos]

"Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

Chapter 6 / Series Masterlist / Previous Chapter

4.6K words

~~

THURSDAY. 4:01 PM.

You’re in an oversized gym shirt and sweatpants, both being Steve Harrington’s from your impromptu sleepover. You look exhausted and if it weren’t for the redundant school policy, you would’ve been wearing sunglasses all day. You look fatigued but Eddie still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in Indiana. If not the world. 

And you’re sitting right next to him in his trailer, on his hard couch (that he thinks has a few too many stains now that company is over), with the kids he swears are mere pains in his ass rather than friends. 

Eddie wants to hear every click of the gears in your head. He wants to know every thought you have and read them back like the nutrition facts on cereal boxes. You operate like clockwork to be the best and he wants just a fraction of your power. You run on nothing but your own motivation and he wishes he could do that, too. More importantly, the way you work is simply so fascinating to him that he can’t stand to not understand it anymore. 

Not fascinating in the way he used to think girls were fascinating in middle school - well, not that that isn’t part of it - but because of your genuine nature. You’re always the smartest person in the room but you don’t exhaust yourself to prove it.

You’re never the asshole that assumes he’s a moron and talks down to him and his friends and you’ve been nothing but pleasant to him. He wonders why more people don’t try to be like you, and he’s left clueless as to why more people aren’t falling at your feet to befriend you.

Well, they are, but everyone and their mothers know it’s only to pressure you into doing their homework.

Eddie is now certain that he could fall in love with you.

But because he’s him and all he seems to be good at is being the local fuck up, he fucks up.

“When’s the play again?” Dustin asks, looking up from preparing the D&D board with Mike to you, “My mom wants to take me clothes shopping tomorrow.”

“3:00,” you lean into Eddie as you answer. Skin against his leather jacket. It’ll stick if you’re there for too long, but that might not be such a bad thing.

“Well, it wouldn’t matter, right?” Eddie pipes up and every head turns to him.

“Why… wouldn’t it?” your brows furrow.

Today - Hellfire

Friday - Final

Monday - Play

Right?

“Monday is the play, right?” Eddie suddenly feels hot under your gaze, his skin flushed and hands growing clammy, “Not tomorrow.”

“It’s tomorrow, Eddie,” you're trying to smile, it’s weak. You’re hurt he forgot.

He doesn’t want to tell you that if he’s wrong - he never really knew in the first place.

“No fucking way,” he shoots up to go to his room and you look over at Dustin and Mike.

Even Mike is staring in sympathy.

“Shit!”

Your gut drops at the shout.

“Eddie, it’s fine,” you stand as he comes huffing out, “At least we caught it now.”

“No, I- “ he hadn’t told you because he wanted it to be a surprise when he passed, “I can’t go.”

For once, he was quiet but in the fragile still of his trailer, you didn’t even notice.

“Why not?” your hands weave together and you press your lips, “Why can’t you?”

Eddie sighs, shakes his head, and guides you out of his trailer.

“Why can’t you go?” you’re standing on the dead grass outside in clothes you usually would only be caught dead wearing and you feel silly - about to tear up at the notion that the boy you’re not even dating can’t come to your play.

“I wanted it to be a surprise thing,” he already sounds breathless, the misfortune akin to a devastating gut punch, “Ms. O’Donnell said I can have two days to retake my midterm as a secondary final. I already told her I’d take it tomorrow.”

“Oh,” your eyes fall to your feet.

Oh.

It wasn’t his fault, really. A slip of the mind.

But that doesn’t stop it from hurting.

“Stupid,” he hisses, shaking his head and reaching up to cover his face, “I’m so fucking stupid. I’m so sorry.”

“Eddie,” you can’t help the disappointment in your voice, “it’s fine. It was a mistake.”

“It’s not fine,” he lowers his hands and he looks so distraught, “This was the one thing I could actually do for you and I fucked it up.”

“Hey, it’s not the one thing,” you go to hold his hands but he pulls them back.

“What? Getting you high and drunk? That’s hardly romantic, princess,” he can’t even look at you and you know he’s frustrated with himself but it still aches, “I’m a shitty guy. You shouldn’t be around me.”

“Eddie, I can make my own decisions. Besides, your drinking and smoking weren't exactly legal either. We were just having fun - being idiots. It was fun, wasn’t it?”

“I shouldn’t have dragged you through this.”

“Eddie Munson,” you snap a little harsher than you intended, but his attention is immediately called to you, “you didn’t drag me through anything. Now, stop with the pity party. It was an honest mistake, wasn’t it?” he nods glumly and you cup his cheeks, thumbs gently rubbing where small tears threaten to mar his skin, “Then it’ll be okay.”

He hates the way he leans in so desperately to your touch, but he’s never felt this needy in his life. 

His voice is hoarse and his brows pinch together, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’ll be okay,” you shake your head.

But it isn’t okay now. You are upset. You are disappointed. 

“I have to go to work,” you pull back after a few moments.

“Let me drive you?” he’s already reaching for his keys but you lay a hand over his and shake your head.

“I can walk.”

“That’s way too far.”

It isn’t, but he can’t stand the thought of you walking to Family Video because he didn’t try hard enough for you.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, then pat his shoulder, “Go back to the boys.”

You don’t have to work at all. But you don’t want to be here and you don’t want to go home.

“I’ll call you when I get home,” you promise.

“I’m sorry,” he’s so quiet.

It’s so unlike him.

You and Eddie lock eyes. You can see it - in his doe eyes - the anguish that lies there, and you can’t stand the way his pretty lips are frowning.

In a moment of blind confidence, you take hold of Eddie’s jaw and press a kiss to his cheek. As forgiveness or affection, it can’t be decided. Eddie doesn’t think he deserves either.

“I’ll call you.”

It’s silent as he watches you leave and he knows he should be running after the only good thing about Hawkins, Indiana, but his feet are stuck in the dead grass. 

This is how the only thing worth trying for leaves. Not with a shout, but a whisper. And he has nobody to blame but himself.

Dustin opens the door when too much time has passed with Eddie being so quiet. He feels bad, he does, but he also feels like there’s a simple solution on the horizon.

“Just ask for an extension.”

“Oh, yeah, duh. Because the final I’m already not technically allowed to take is that easy to re-schedule.”

“Maybe not under normal circumstances, but remember who it’s for,” Dustin points at the entrance of the Forest Hills Trailer Park despite the fact you’d left long ago, “The golden brain of Hawkins High. Favoritism goes a long way, Eddie the Banished.”

…

Chrissy Cunningham is above a lot of things. Her nasty peers. Backhandedness. Sitting on the bare ground of the gym. Making her boyfriend stop his car when she spots you walking alone, however, is not one of those things.

Chrissy calls to you through the passenger window and you turn immediately.

Jason’s car has been pulled off to the opposite side of the road you were walking on. Chrissy is poking her head out and waving you over, her lips pulled down and blue eyes teeming with concern.

“I thought you were with Eddie,” she pouts and glares at Jason when he gags at the other boy’s name.

“It’s whatever,” you huff.

“It’s not whatever if it’s got you wandering off like this,” she jerks her head towards the back doors, “Where’re you going?”

“Jason’s not gonna give me a ride,” you look to the side, “That’s weird.”

“He will and it’s not weird, it’s helping my friend,” Chrissy gestures to the doors, “Now, really, get in.”

When you finally cave and get into the car, you can see Jason white-knuckle gripping the steering wheel. He’s trying not to lose his golden boy appearance by throwing a hissy fit at how his girlfriend’s not so demure anymore.

With the drop of a single ‘e’, she’s shifted. Demur - (v.) raise doubts or objections or show reluctance or (n.) the action or process of objecting to or hesitating over something.

Chrissy has only bought more weed from Eddie since the first time, and the change has been evident. She’s more outspoken. Still sweet and giggly and gentle, but now you can see the way she grumbles at Jason for sighing at having to drive you to Family Video. She stands up for the people he picks on.

You, and everybody else at Hawkins, can sense their relationship coming to an end.

“So, what’s wrong?” Chrissy turns in the passenger seat, temple leaning against the cushion as she frowns.

“It was just a stupid mistake,” you try and wave it off but nothing can dismiss the genuine sinking in your heart, “Eddie can’t go to the play because he has to work with Ms. O’Donnell tomorrow and mixed up the dates.”

“Aw,” she reaches out and takes the hands that you didn’t even notice were nervously gripping the edge of Steve’s shirt, “I’m sorry, hun. That sucks.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s okay to be sad,” she assures, “It’s a bummer he can’t go, you don’t have to pretend so he doesn’t feel bad.”

“He still feels bad.”

Chrissy purses her lips, “I wish I knew how to fix this. You two deserve to be happy.”

Jason’s grip tightens on the wheel and you try to ignore it as Family Video gets closer into view, “I’ll be fine. It isn’t like he did it on purpose.”

“But still. Your feelings are valid,” she smiles and squeezes your hands, “It’s okay to be upset.”

Steve Harrington has a very different approach to comforting you, simply shaking his head and clenching his fists, “That dick.”

“No, he didn’t mean to,” you slap his shoulder, “I just wanted to get my mind off of it, I guess.”

“Well, you know, if you really wanted to get your mind off of it - you could try working,” Robin grins sarcastically after handing a man his rental of Grease.

“Nice try but no.”

“At least get in uniform or something, seeing you in my clothes is weirding me out,” Steve looks away as if the sight of you burns his retinas.

“You literally gave me these,” you huff, “I wore them to school!”

“Yeah and now I’m disgusted,” Steve crosses his arms, “Like, I wear those to sleep and you’re just invading that space.”

“You gave me these, Harrington. God- fine,” you groan, “fine. I’ll get in the uniform, but I’m not working. I requested off today and tomorrow like two weeks ago, I’m not working.”

9:35 PM.

You did end up working. And you’re angry that Steve used his stupid hair and his stupid kicked-puppy eyes to silently beg you to just run the counter. That dick.

At least he drove you home.

“You two are coming tomorrow, right?” you open the passenger door to Steve’s BMW but pause to look at the driver and Robin.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Robin leans forward to grin at you.

Steve nods, “We’ll be there.”

“Good,” you nod and climb out, “Bye!” 

You wave the pair off as they drive away. At least you’ll have them. That’s enough.

Right? It should be.

You’re still in your work uniform when your mother hurries up from the couch and to the doorway. She crosses her arms and squints at you skeptically, “Where were you?”

You refrain from gesturing to your uniform and simply say, “I got called in after tutoring. Sorry, Mom, I meant to call.”

She sighs and you almost want to roll your eyes. Then, she reaches out and takes your shoulder, “I’m just worried, honey. I haven’t seen you at all in the last two days.”

You don’t like the way she touches you so gently. Like she’s trying to play the tender mother to a crushing father. They’re both at fault as far as you’re concerned.

You shrug off her touch, eyes looking at the floor, “I was here before work yesterday…”

“Yes, but you weren’t here,” her hand immediately clamps back to your arm and she squeezes your shoulder, “I know we’re hard on you. We just don’t want you to be a deadbeat.”

Once again, you brush off her hand and this time she seems to get the message. Despite her phrasing and despite the fact you have a very clear idea of who she’s thinking about when she says that, you can remind yourself of your place. Just a little.

“Sorry, Mom,” you sigh and take off your work bag just to hold it to your chest, “I- I’m just off with the year ending soon. It’s fine.”

Although, from your parents’ silence and staring and judging throughout the years, you’d think that you’re just off all the time.

You rush past your mother but before you can run up the stairs, she calls to you again, “A boy called for you.”

You said you’d call him, so you have to admit you’re a little worried when she says that. Also, the fact that she clearly picked up.

“It’s fine if you’re seeing someone,” she admits quietly, “Just don’t lie to me.”

You can’t forget the years of pressure and not being enough just because of her kindly attitude now. Your mother is no saint and no matter how much she’s trying to act like a neglected sweetheart, you remember every time her and your father made you feel like a sheltered kitten.

You love your parents but you can’t wait to be away from them.

“Sorry,” you murmur, deciding it’s best to say none of what you’re thinking, “did he say what it was for?”

“No,” she frowns and moves back to the living room, “he seems nice, though. You should bring him around sometime.”

As if.

Your mother’s scalding words were enough when you got a low A on a test, you didn’t need her berating poor Eddie for purely existing.

“Maybe,” you shrug off and go to the kitchen phone to call Eddie.

Her explanation is understandable but her actions are too far. Every score invalidated, every night with friends canceled to study shit you already knew, every friend turned away for being a bad influence, every sleepless hour questioning your own self-worth, every account of your missteps compared to Nancy Wheeler. It seemed your suffering was truly worth it to your parents.

“The one and only - Eddie Munson.”

“Hey,” you tap your nails against the smooth marble of the counter, “my mom said you called - what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sorry,” you can imagine him running a ringed hand through his messy hair and you agonize over the way your heart pounds at the image, “I just - I don’t wanna leave today like it ended. Do you wanna go out?”

Like, on a date? you don’t ask.

“Eddie, don’t do this just because you feel bad.”

“No,” he immediately exclaims, “I want to. Please, princess, I really wanna see you.”

You can’t help the smile that overtakes you, “Alright, then. I’ll let you take me out.”

The eyes of your mother sear through your back as soon as the words come out of you. 

You can’t see it through the phone, but Eddie pumps his fist in success. 

“Give me a half hour, sweetheart, alright?”

You can still feel your mother’s eyes on you after you hang up.

“I’m going out,” you call after her as you race to your room.

You can feel the questions she wants to push on you. You can feel the reparations she wants to make. You don’t care to take any of it, though.

Chrissy’s changed since buying from Eddie and you can’t deny the way you’re changing too. You decide you like this change - the one where you stand up for yourself.

 10:04 PM.

“I had to lie to your mom when she picked up,” Eddie admits as you get into his van.

“Really?” you quirk a brow at the boy.

“Yeah, just so she wouldn’t hang up immediately. Told her my name was Bunsen.”

“Like the burner?”

“It’s all I could think of!”

Eddie flips on the radio - you can’t determine what the band is but it’s fine so long as Eddie continues to bop his head to the music. Then, suddenly, he pops his palms against the wheel and looks at you for a second, “I have a plan! By the way!”

“Yeah?” you just like how Eddie’s lips curve up.

“Well, Henderson came up with it, but! He said I should just beg O’Donnell for another extension,” when you don’t celebrate the way he does, he continues, “Said it should work because she adores you, which - yeah.”

“I’m just a normal student,” you shake your head, though you can’t deny your grin when he said ‘yeah’. Like he, too, adores you.

“No,” he extends the vowel, shaking his head with more vigor than you, “you’re valedictorian and amazing and nice and pretty. You’re anything but normal - like in a good way.”

“Flatterer,” your fingers find their way to the hem of your shirt and tug nervously.

“Is it flattery if it’s true?”

“Yeah right, Munson.”

Eddie wishes you could see yourself the way he sees you. You’ve taken time out of your day just to help some drug-dealing high school deadbeat finally graduate. You’re sweet and funny and you always take care to match his energy and you put so much trust in him.  

Eddie would worship you like a deity if presented the opportunity. On his knees, indebted, devoted, whatever you need just say the word and he’ll scramble for it kind of worship.

He’s sorry he’s so stupid and he wishes he was worth your tenderness. 

But he doesn’t say that. Instead, he silently parks along the treeline surrounding Lover’s Lake.

“Wow,” you gasp as though appalled, “the infamous make out spot.”

“Yeah, you know me,” Eddie shoots you a wink before getting out of the van.

Indiana nighttime, as bland as it may be, does the lake justice. Gentle moonlight bounces off the calm water and the stars are much clearer away from the streetlights in Hawkins. 

You follow Eddie to the back as he pulls open the doors. A cold brush of air whips past and you can’t withhold the shiver that runs through you. Eddie turns to you instantly and removes his leather jacket to lay it over your shoulders.

“Are you sure?” you’re already hugging the jacket tighter despite your question, “I see you wearing this all the time - what if you miss it?”

“That’s a risk worth taking.”

Lugging open the van doors, he slaps the bed of his van and you see the blanket he laid down - at the very back of the bed, you also see where he must’ve thrown his lunchbox of drugs.

“It’s not five stars, but I figured we could go stargazing.”

You reach out to take Eddie’s hand and squeeze it, “I really appreciate you doing this. Thank you.”

I’d do anything for you, he doesn’t say that.

Instead, Eddie assists you into the bed of the van and joins quickly after. In just a few minutes, you two are laying at the doors, heads resting on the edge of the bed to stare up at the starlit sky.

“You see those stars up there?” he points at the sky and while it takes you a moment to discern which ones he’s talking about, you eventually find a collection of stars in the vague shape of a heart, “Those are actually my favorite constellation.”

“Really?” you turn to look at him - his eyes wide and lit by the pale moonlight as he smiles.

“Yeah,” he turns to return your gaze.

“What’s its name?”

He hums quietly, “Zeus.”

“Zeus has a constellation?”

“No, I’m lying through my teeth,” he beams even though he was caught, “I couldn’t think of another name but if I hesitated you would’ve definitely known I was lying.”

“Do you know any actual constellations?”

“Just one,” Eddie hangs his head back to search the sky, “Orion’s Belt.”

“Didn’t even know you could see it in Indiana.”

“Yeah, you can,” he finally spots the stars and points at them, “until early May and then it comes back in November.”

You don’t follow his pointing, instead too taken with the pretty boy beside you. You appreciate the fact that he’s trying so hard for you. He really didn’t have to, but that’s just who Eddie is.

Gentle-hearted and beautiful Eddie.

You couldn’t have picked anyone better to show you life, and you’re glad that Ms. O’Donnell asked you to tutor Eddie Munson.

He catches you and is quick to ask while his hands fly to pat about his face, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” you grin, bottom lip dragging between your teeth as you try to think of what to say, “You can have your jacket back, if you want it.”

“Hm, keep it,” he rolls around and leans up on his elbows to look at you, the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt are rolled up and you get peeks of his tattoos, “You look so much better in it than I do. Which is a little unfair, but I’ll let it pass.”

You bury yourself even deeper into the leather jacket, “If you just stare at me, you’ll miss all the pretty stars up there.”

Eddie is quick to refuse, leaning his head in his palm, “I’d rather look at the pretty girl down here.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, she’s way more interesting.”

“Well, she also thinks you’re way more interesting than the stars.”

Eddie chuckles before closing his eyes like he’s thinking, “Should we kiss?” one of your hands comes to cover your mouth as you giggle, Eddie opens his eyes and shrugs dramatically, “I don’t know, I just feel like there’s something…”

“Uhm,” you lower your hand and your eyes dart off to the side, “Yeah,” your gaze returns to Eddie, “Yeah. I think we should definitely kiss.”

“So glad we’re on the same page,” he mutters.

You reach up and bring your hand to the nape of Eddie’s neck, gently playing with the baby strands at his hairline as he leans down on his elbows. Your eyes fall closed by the time Eddie tenderly presses his lips to yours.

Aside from two plays - one in seventh grade and one in tenth - this was your first actual kiss. Those were small pecks, and you try to apply what you’d learned from those times here so that you don’t mortify yourself in front of Eddie.

It’s an interesting taste on his lips, but it’s one that you can’t find yourself bitter about.

Eddie cups your cheeks to pull you closer, his thumbs press into the flesh of your cheeks lovingly and he almost whispers prayers against your lips. Disbelief and wonder that you’re actually here in his van, kissing him.

You two pull away and Eddie can only stare in admiration as your lips pull into a tiny smile.

He already wants to kiss you again.

“You, sir, taste like Mary Jane.”

“Huh, weird,” his brows furrowed and his eyes briefly flick to the grassy trails behind you, “I could’ve sworn I chewed gum before picking you up.”

“That would explain the faint mint.”

Your hands fall from his neck to his shoulders, squeezing, “We should do that again sometime.”

“Yeah,” he’s almost embarrassed by how fast he agrees.

“Like right now?”

Once again, he’s almost embarrassed by how fast he agrees, “Like right now.”

He brings you into another kiss. Soft and compassionate. The opposite of what you would’ve imagined, but in no way are you complaining when Eddie so carefully swipes his tongue along your bottom lip. 

But your nerves take over and even though you know he doesn’t plan on getting past first base, you can’t help the way you feel.

“I don’t know about that far,” your protest is quiet and Eddie is immediate to respond.

He pushes off of you and nods, “Not a problem, sweet thing.”

“We should probably get going,” you move to sit up on your elbows and the jacket falls a little off your shoulders.

Eddie rolls off of you completely and slides out of the van, holding a hand out to assist you in doing the same. He beams up at you with all his usual (endearing) grandeur as you take the extended hand.

The drive home is serene. Quiet. Eddie holds your hand over the center console. Squeezing occasionally as if to remind you that he’s thinking of you.

10:44 PM.

“Here,” you go to take off the leather jacket once Eddie’s parked outside your house.

“Nope,” he pops the ‘p’ and puts up his hands, “you hold onto it. I was being serious earlier.”

You grin and lean over to kiss Eddie’s cheek, “Thanks for taking me out, Eds.”

Normally he hates the nickname ‘Eds’ but you say it so sweetly, he wouldn’t think of stopping you.

“Let me walk you to your door?” he pouts like a kicked puppy but you haven’t even rejected him.

“Of course.” 

“Just think, if it weren’t for me - you’d actually be in bed at a proper time,” Eddie walks with you up the pathway to your door.

“Yeah, well, I had more fun than I would just be trying to sleep,” you shrug, pulling his jacket tighter around you. You stop suddenly at the door and spin on your heel to face Eddie, “Well, here I am.”

“Glad to be sure the lovely princess makes it back to her castle safely.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Thank you, I try very hard,” he turns the skull ring around his finger, eyes not quite meeting yours, “I’ll try. Tomorrow. Really, I will.”

You nod slowly, then tilt your head so that he’s forced to lock eyes with you, “I know you will, Eds. I know you will.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then Eddie steps forward, one hand coming to the side of your head so he can bring you closer. His lips are soft as he presses a kiss to your forehead. It lingers for a second. Then he’s walking away.

Before he can get into his van, however, you call out, “Call me when you get home! I wanna know you’re safe.”

“As you wish, princess!”

He doesn’t say it, but the words are resting just under his tongue once again - Anything for you.

Neither of your parents are in the living room when you step inside. And neither of them seem to hear when you’re speaking with Eddie over the phone.

It feels like the two of you are alone. Like the world was made just for you and while you’re sapping up his attention, everyone else gets to play dormant.

You like it that way.

~~Taglist @homiesexual-or-homosexual @chainsaw-man-inserts @juggernort @efvyqrs 4 u <3

#within six days #wsd fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #yeah i'm late i know i know

[honeysucklepink]

Covid Day 3 (apparently? What happened to the other days? I’ll tell you under a cut cause damn I’m long-wimdy):

Day 0: Thursday, when I started having symptoms (scratchy throat, sinus congestion, achy joints though to be fair one of those is a jammed up finger from my fall two months ago, and a temp of 99, which for me is actually a bit high). Went to work anyway LIKE A MORON, but stayed closed up in my office. About noon, when no one showed up to my online workshop (one person tried to login on mobile twice then gave up) and I realized I could barely get through it anyway, I took a Covid test I keep in my desk drawer--negative. Okay, so maybe the flu? Even though I had my flu and covid booster a few weeks ago, maybe it’s a strain they didn’t catch? I went to student health. Did I tell you my campus has declared we are “post-covid” and they aren’t even doing masks? And now you need an appointment, my primary doc had the week off, and the lady said “oh it’s probably just this bad cold that’s been going around anyway” *GGGRRR* I say fuck it, call it a day, run to Walmart to grab some meds and soup and decide I’m taking Friday off too.

Day 1: Friday. Still feel like crud, though the cough is starting to be productive at least, the temp is up and down but mainly in the upper 98-99 range. Sit in virtually on a faculty meeting, then a phone meeting with the estate attorney re: Dad’s will. Hubby is in a tree stand all day so I take care of myself. Fix some veggie beef soup and a roll for lunch, PBJ for a snack, and some stir-fry Hubs made the night before for dinner. Plus LOADS of ginger tea with honey and lemon. Hope I’m improving by Saturday because a work friend is having her “Birthday/Halloween/Breast Cancer in Remission” party tomorrow night and my Coach Beard costume is on POINT.

Day 2: Saturday. Fuck me. I wake up SWEATING, burning up. My temperature is now 100.0 (Allie Brosh gif “no, I wanted the opposite of this”) and I decide “fuck it, I’m taking another Covid test.” Well screw me sideways, for the first time since March 2020 when all this shit started it finally got to me. I text Hubs “DON’T COME IN HERE” and he texts back “LET ME GET THE FLAME THROWER” (haha very funny). Instead he brings me coffee, toast, and eggs. Then I ask him three separate texts for 1) apple butter for my toast 2) Crystal hot sauce for my eggs and 3) a glass of orange juice. Hey it’s the least he can do after the flame thrower quip. Fortunately there is an urgent care open until 4 pm down the road, so I go there, follow protocols, they don’t give me another test (apparently the home test positives are pretty accurate, they are more likely to give you false negatives). Interestingly they do not recommend paxlovid at this clinic, especially with my high blood pressure. They give me a shot to start my antibiotic/steroid boost, I run pick up a bunch of meds and some McDonalds, and hunker down in my isolation chamber and proceed to watch my Ole Miss Rebels end their seven-game winning streak. Joy. Hubby brings me soup and a roll and some gatorade.

So that makes today (Sunday) Day 3. According to CDC guidelines, I should isolate 5 days from the start of my symptoms, then so long as I’m feeling better after Day 5 and my temp has been normal for 24 hours, I can go back to work wearing a mask for at least five more days (though I will probably wear a mask for the rest of my life. I’ve realized I don’t like my lower face; my teeth are crooked, my lips are oddly scarred from years of cold sores, I’ve developed a complete lack of a chin which now blends into my neck...yeah I’ll wear a mask forever. Which would be easier if I didn’t also have to wear glasses)

#covid-19 #now back to my regular shitposting

[weabooweedwitch]

Dude so after I already told my mom that this could become a problem before I even started working this job and she insisted it was fine, she is now jumping up my ass about how "oh she's so tired of having to wake up early to pick me up from my overnight shifts"

Well there were certainly other closer locations i could have applied at dear mother but you were quite literally bullying me about getting another job to the point YOU applied on my behalf after badgering me over and over, didn't you? And at that point I was so extremely stressed I let you do everything, didn't I? And it was entirely your choice to apply for the wrong hours at the wrong location that is too far away for me to take the bus, as opposed to, the location that was right next to my old job who's bus route I already knew

But fuck calling them and trying to apply there, you didn't immediately see any posting online despite the fact they had visible posting in the store, fuck trying to contact them directly, oh no, we had to force through an application online "because what if it isn't there later"

And she wants me to feel bad that it's "ruining her sleep" to wake up a little early to pick me up from the job you applied me for? No Dana being obese and constantly gorging when you aren't working ruins your sleep. Having to take naps every single day in the middle of the day and then still sleep 10+ hours at night is ruining your sleep. Not getting any physical exercise and refusing to do something as simple as go grocery shopping by yourself is ruining your sleep.

Like???? She's complaining about a situation SHE caused and put me in??? Dumb bitch. Absolutely dumb spiteful bitch. Yesterday (thursday) I mentioned how extremely important it was to do laundry so I could spend today (friday) packing so I could focus on getting ready for my flight early Saturday morning and I texted her I was setting an alarm and everything, but I accidentally slept til 9pm and she's just. Sitting on the couch eating cereal watching TV. "Oh sorry I needed to catch up on my sleep" *proceeds to go to bed again at 10pm and sleep 10+ more hours until she has work and now I can't get anything done until after 4pm*

I might just pack dirty laundry and do it at my hotel in Canada because they provide amenities for that. Im just. I'm furious. Shes been treating me like absolute shit and insulting my friend and even outright saying he's probably a creep nd only inviting me because he wants sex or something??? Does she even realize how fucking hurtful that is?

Lowkey hope this apartment burns down with her in it while I'm in Canada. Wash my hands clean of her. I wouldn't be becoming this hateful spiteful person I am 8f it wasn't for her and I'm dying on that hill. The way she's raised me has damaged me forever and I'll never forgive her. Sigh.

[diggerunit]

Learnings

You learn something new every day. As long as you stop and observe rather than just rushing through life.

But most importantly, the ability to get to know YOU in every single aspect is the key to a lot of positive things. For example:

Avoiding situations you’re not going to be comfortable in

Knowing when it’s time to leave, even if in the beginning you were doing well in that situation/place/job/party/relationship

Recognizing what’s really important to you from irrelevant stuff

Emotional regulation

Anticipating situations or circumstances and have a plan for it

Find enjoyment and fulfillment from doing what you love (like, for real)

Stop judging yourself and being so hard on you. It’s just not worth it. Self-kindness is non-negotiable on your quest for a serene life.

Let’s use an example: you’ve had an awful week, plenty of bad news. On top of it, you had extra expenses because, let’s say, it’s your brother-in-law birthday and the group decided to gift him a trip to Maldives in High Season. And of course you are in the group and cannot say no.

And maybe just before this shitstorm, you were planning to go and workout every day in the gym, because in 2 weeks you’re going to Ibiza and you feel like you’ve been eating too many Cheetos after dinner (guess what? you’re stressed and that’s how you cope with it). But no way your Cheetos belly can make its appearance on the Ibiza beach, so “yes! this is my week to burn this down”. 

And then the first bad news comes in. And then another one, and then the WhatsApp Group notifications and the Maldives. And the money.. “oh, man really?” you think. You even tried to speak up and make the group reconsider, but no, nobody listens. Long story short, you miss the gym a couple of times, or even 3 or 4. And it’s Friday already.

You look at yourself in the mirror and the Cheetos belly is staring back at you. So, at this point you have 2 main alternatives:

1. Go with the Cheetos, again. Because you failed, so nothing matters in life anymore. The Cheetos know you, they understand you. They are sweet and lovely. And then maybe you even get mad, and “fuck, no way, I’m an idiot, I failed”. And back to the Cheetos. And you’re trapped in this cycle.

2. You knew this would happen. You actually took a moment on Tuesday and said “hmm, this week started like shit. I’m sure I'll be emotionally screwed by Thursday, because I know me and seeing what’s coming down, I will probably fail my goal to train this week. But guess what, that’s OK. Nobody’s perfect, this week I had a meltdown and it looks like there might be more on their way. So yes, I know that training helps me and heals me, but it’s not the only thing that works. It is OK to start healing by slowing down, before going back to the training schedule”. And guess what happens with option number 2: stress release. The pressure goes down, the room seems bigger, the light brighter. Your feel even prettier. Guess what, the world did not stop nor exploded because of you skipping the gym. And I can assure you that the day you’ll go back to the training you’ll have the biggest motivation boost. 

Also, choosing option 2 allows you to make a backup plan with a clear mind, rather than being lost in wild rage against yourself. You anticipated what would happen and where the circumstances will bring you, so you were prepared, but also you know that the shitstorm won’t last forever. And that’s the moment you have to keep your eyes on.

You may not achieve your goal and bring the Cheetos belly to Ibiza? True. It this the end of the world? Doesn’t look like it. Would the Cheetos belly disappear if you went with option 1? Absolutely not, it would actually get even bigger. And we all know it. So yes, this is just a version of “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade”.

Bottom line? Be kind with yourself. Be understanding, be fair. Recognize what you’re going through, its weight and consequences on you, emotionally. It’s OK to change plans to heal. And by doing so, you’re actually helping yourself recover faster and better and come back stronger. It’s okay to take some time and just be with yourself. Exit from the “performance mindset” and just be.

#self kindness #self knowledge #healingjourney #pressure #stress release #lemons #lemonade #Cheetos belly #ibiza #brother in law #goals #goals setting #path to success #learnings #life hacks #emotions #emotional regulation #stress #judgment #shitstorm