This Is Definitely Not A Google Drive Full Of The Sleep Stuff From The Headspace App, Including Sleepcasts,

You will not use AI to get ideas for your story. You will lie on the floor and have wretched visions like god intended

put down the chat gpt. consume too much caffeine and nicotine and write a paper that you barely understand while you approach hallucination territory from too little sleep and too much raging. engage with academia in the way god intended

Don’t skip💔🙏🍉

Don't stop supporting me.My brother is in dire need of your donation. He was injured again and suffered an amputation He is now in Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in great need of treatment and pain relief, which will continue until he travels outside the country for treatment. Here there is an increase in all prices, whether health medicines or healthy food I have no choice but to raise funds for my brother and my family, as he also has a baby who needs milk And some of the proteins and vitamins that my brother needs, he also cannot provide his family with their own needs. I lost my little son. I don't want to lose what's left of my family I am happy again to help my family from this danger that we face. Please, friends, why do I have hope but you?My family is now facing severe famine. There is nothing to eat due to the closure of commercial crossings and the lack of humanitarian aid You are the only hope. I hope that this difficult situation will end, that the war will stop, and that we will live in peace But do not forget, my brother, I really want to treat him, it is an urgent matter. Thank you 🙏🇵🇸💔

Verified link 🛑

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Donate to Help farah & family of Palestine from Gaza City, organized by Ramzy Foura

I’m Farah. Since the war started on October 7th, my family and I have face… Ramzy Foura needs your support for Help farah & family of Palest

extra virgin olive oil 🍉

gaza-evacuation-funds 🍉

The foot link may be closed and all the money is gone. Now I am trying again with another donation link. I hope you understand my tragic situation.

………………………………..🍉🇵🇸……………………………… .

Winter is coming!!🍉💔✋

Imagine yourself in your home with your family in front of the heater and holding a cup of hot drink in your hand, and in contrast there is a whole city living in worn-out tents in the cold, with nothing to shelter them, imagine the sight of children being rained on in a cloth tent at night, the tent being blown away by the strong winds, the cover they have on them is not enough,

all this while you put your tent in the street, because you have no place, this is what we experienced last winter and this is what we will suffer this winter as well,

as much as you are sympathetic and we are very grateful to you for your support, but it is not as you live the feeling, we are here struggling to live, we suffered from hunger, extreme heat and insects, and now we are suffering from the cold, life has exhausted us a lot

buying a tent is no longer an easy matter,

And my brother suffers from

amputation in the foot and my mother is suffering from diabetes and pressure

and this is not a good place for them,

all I ask of you is your help,

it means a lot to me, even a small donation helps save my life I am grateful to everyone, because you are my family that never left me, help me buy a new tent

Donate to save our life💔

I need just 20$ from each person can help me

But I know that thanks to your support we are able to save our lives from death

Things here are more difficult than you see

Your donation is enough to save our lives from death

I hope you do not leave us alone here 💔🙏🙏🙏

Reminder to boycott Stranger Things Season Five!!

Multiple people in the cast and crew have shown support for Israel whilst they commit genocide against the Palestinians living under their military occupation. It does not matter if the support is born of ignorance or Israeli propaganda; they are still supporting genocide.

Thousands of Palestinians have been murdered by Israel. They are being starved to death, bombed... and that's barely scratching the surface. The situation in Gaza is worse than you are imagining.

Do what you can to support Palestine! Boycotting season five is something so small and easy! Please, do not forget about Gaza!

Free Palestine!

The Last Steve Harrington

The apocalypse sucked.

The sky was always the same depressing shade of Vecna Scarlet and Steve hadn’t seen the sun in 432 days. Or what he thought had been 432 days. It was hard to tell sometimes without anything to mark the passage of time. He tried to sleep when he was tired but couldn’t let his guard down with Demodogs and Demobats roaming around. Vecna had left Hawkins, but the open portals still spit out the occasional Upside Down monster. Sleeping also meant dreaming and nightmares. Steve didn’t know which were worse; the dreams where everyone was alive and he had to wake up or the nightmares where he watched them die over and over again. He didn’t sleep much.

He had slowly made his way through every house in the area looking for food and supplies, but there was only one left. Which meant it was time to leave Hawkins. He would scavenge the last house and then head out. He didn’t really have a plan but figured he would just start walking in the opposite direction to the one Vecna had taken. He went up to the house and broke the glass above the door. Sticking his hand in carefully to avoid the shards, he unlocked it from the inside. He opened the door and listened carefully for any movement before heading to the kitchen.

He checked the cupboards first, knowing not to touch the fridge. The power had turned off in the first few months of Vecna’s invasion and never came back on. The first few cupboards had plates and dishware so he kept looking until he came across the canned goods. The first cans were baked beans.

“Why is there always beans?” Steve asked himself. He fucking hated beans. Moving them to the side, he spotted canned peaches and Campbell’s soup.

“Jackpot.”

He grabbed them, put them on the counter, and went searching for water. Food had never been a problem but water was getting harder to find. The grocery store and super-market had been cleaned out of bottled water after the ‘earthquake,’ and the taps weren’t working anymore. There also hadn’t been any rain since Vecna fucked up the sky so no way to get fresh water. Luckily, he found some bottles in the pantry, along with stale cookies. Delicious. He grabbed his backpack off his shoulder and dumped everything out onto the counter.

The backpack had all his worldly possessions. The peaches and soup went to the bottom of the bag with the rest of his canned goods. He ate the cookies as he repacked. He used to have more clothes but they were a waste of space. Underwear and socks were the only spare clothes he kept anymore. He also had a blanket, flashlight, lighter, cigarettes, ammunition, spare batteries for his Walkman, some tapes, and Dustin’s copy of The Hobbit. He shoved his bat back down the side and zipped it up to keep everything in place. Unclipping his canteen from the side, he refilled it with the bottled water.

He hefted the bag, pleased that the new cans didn’t add too much weight and threw it back over his shoulder. Steve looked down for a moment, taking stock of himself. Boots from War Zone were laced up to his ankles. A machete was strapped to his left leg with the holster for his handgun right above it. His jeans were filthy but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Every bit of him was covered in grime, water too precious to use for washing. He had a thick grey sweater on with Eddie’s jacket layered over top. He nodded. Time to go.

After leaving the house, Steve looked around. When he had started scavenging, he had worked his way from the heart of Hawkins and moved outwards. He had saved this house for last because it was on the very outskirts of the city. Walking to the road he looked right then left. Left led back to Hawkins and right led out of the city.

“Good-bye,” he said to the only home he had ever known and turned right down the road.

The only good thing about the sky being fucked was he didn’t have to worry about the weather anymore. The bad thing about the sky being fucked was no plants could grow anymore and all the trees were either dead or dying, leaving very little cover on the open road. Steve hated feeling so exposed, but at least he could also see anything coming towards him. Stopping for a moment, he took his Walkman out of the bag and popped in his Bruce Springsteen tape. He put the headphones around his neck and turned the volume all the way up. He needed to be able to hear so he never put the headphones over his ears.

He had a few tapes in his bag but Springsteen was his favourite. He had listened through it twice when a distortion appeared in front of him. It looked like a portal, the edges of reality bending into a focal point. It shimmered and cracked with electricity. Jesus Christ, Steve could not handle Demodogs or Demobats in the middle of nowhere without any cover or defensible position. He could handle one dog, maybe a couple of bats. But what were the odds that only a manageable few would come out of a portal? Slim to none. Steve was fucked.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

Steve had promised Dustin before he died that he would fight. That he would never give up. And over the past year, he had wanted to give up over and over and over. But he kept going. Because that promise was all he had left. But the portal was opening, and he was tired. There was nowhere for him to run. This was the end. Steve was… relieved. It was finally going to be over. He dropped his bag and took his bat out. He wouldn’t go down without a fight…he had promised after all.

The distortion pulsed once before breaking open into a doorway, Steve took a step back but stopped and stared in bewilderment when it wasn’t The Upside Down on the other side. The sky was blue and sunlight leaked out, close enough that Steve could feel its warmth. The grass was green and a sweet-smelling wind swept over him. His bat slipped from his fingers. Standing in front of him were his kids.

He was dead.

He didn’t know how it happened and he didn’t care.

He sobbed and ran to them.

Dustin. Max. Will. Eleven. Lucas. Mike.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He cried as he got closer. He reached Dustin first and crushed the younger man into his chest. The rest of them crowded in around him, hugging him. He opened his arms to gather them all close. Tears were streaming down his face as he laughed and cried and held them. He closed his eyes and turned his face up to the sun, feeling the warmth on his face. This was heaven. It must be. He had missed them so much. His kids.

“Where’s everyone else? Where’s Eddie?” he asked, looking around. He needed to see him. If Steve was dead, then he should be here, too. Everyone should be here.

“We didn’t tell them we were looking for you,” Dustin replied. “We didn’t want them to get their hopes up in case we couldn’t find you.”

That…made no sense. Steve dropped his arms and stepped back from them. Max and Eleven stuck close to his sides, holding on to the sleeves of his sweater like they were afraid he was going to float away.

“What?”

“It took El a long time, she traveled to-” Dustin trailed off and turned to Eleven, “how many did you go to El?”

“Thousands,” she said and nodded. “I would have gone to a thousand more.”

“I don’t understand. Thousands of what?”

“Parallel universes, Steve. Keep up!” Dustin said.

Steve blinked. Parallel what?

“You’re all dead,” Steve said slowly, “and I’m dead.”

“No!” they yelled.

“Our Steve died when we killed Vecna. El has been searching through parallel universes to find a Steve who had lost us and we finally found you,” Max chimed in for the first time.

“Why did it take so many?”

Eleven looked uncomfortable. “The circumstances had to be right. I could not take a Steve away from his family.” There was something they weren’t telling him. Eleven didn’t lie, but she was skirting the truth right now and Steve could tell.

“What were the others like? The other Steves?”

She turned away from him. Looked at Mike and then Dustin. Both of the younger boys looked back wide eyed and terrified. An awful feeling started curdling in Steve’s gut.

“Steve-” Dustin started but Eleven beat him to it.

“They all died, Steve. In every other universe Steve Harrington dies.”

“El!” Mike yelled.

“Friends do not lie.”

“Every one?” Steve asked, startled.

“Yes,” she replied. “Every one. Except for you.”

“How? How did they all die?”

“They sacrificed themselves to save us. To save the world.”

The words hung in the air around them. Steve turned back to the open portal that showed the hell-scape that was his home. He hadn’t sacrificed himself. He had lived and his world had ended. The truth smacked him hard in the face. If he had given up his life, everyone he cared about would still be alive. An easy choice to make for every single Steve Harrington in every single universe, except for him. The coward who chose himself.

He was going to be sick. He pushed the kids away and tumbled to his knees. He vomited into the grass, his body shaking from the force of it.

“I don’t belong here,” Steve whispered but Max heard him.

“Yes, you do,” she said with no hesitation.

“I’m the only one who didn’t sacrifice himself and my world ended. How the hell can I live with myself knowing that? Knowing that I doomed my whole world and everyone I loved because I was afraid?”

“I watched you die many times,” Eleven said. “Saving Dustin, or Max, or Eddie or me. Steve always put himself in front of us because he did not think he mattered as much as we did. So, I am glad that you were afraid. That in one universe you saved yourself. You deserve to live just as much as the rest of us. Don’t you think your Eleven or your Dustin would be happy you lived? That you made it back to us?”

“I don’t know! They’re dead and I’m not and I don’t know what to do with this – this new life you’re trying to give me. I don’t deserve it! I failed them! They needed me to be strong, to be their protector and instead I saved myself!” Steve stood up and pointed his finger at her. “You’re not my Eleven,” he said and then spun around to Dustin, “and you’re not my Dustin and I sure as shit am not your Steve.”

He was breathing erratically and couldn’t catch his breath properly. Steve spun and ran for the portal that would take him back to where he belonged. He would go home to the apocalypse he had created and he would let something kill him so he could be with his family. That’s all he deserved.

The world went black before he reached it.

Part 2

i couldn't see (you were always right beside me) | 13.5k

Three hours later Steve logged off to get ready for his shift at the hospital. He was several levels higher and had finished the quests in Darkshore with the help of Greyhawk. He also had a friend listed in his friends list. Greyhawk had said that being friends would let them be able to tell when the other was online so they could quest again. Steve really liked the sound of that. He didn’t have many friends his own age. He and Robin basically lived in each other’s pockets at work, but with Robin’s new girlfriend and their sleep schedules, they didn’t end up getting to hang out more than once a week. A new friend sounded really nice, especially given that it was unlikely he would ever get along with his neighbors. The only resident Steve’s age on this floor was the neighbor he hated and that was very unlikely to change anytime soon. OR Steve hated his neighbor. And then Dustin and the other kiddos left for college and Steve signed up for some online game called World of Warcraft. Which was how Steve met a Night Elf druid named Greyhawk.

'do you think you're superior for not using AI in your work' thank you for asking! yes i do

Hello everyone,🚨🚨 I am Mohamed Almadhoun from the Gaza Strip. I was displaced from my home and live in a tent with my family of 11 people after we lost our home and income and everything😭😭. Now I ask you to help me and donate to save me and my family life.🙏

Our compaign isVetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #45 ), also it is verified by Genei Moon and this is their TikTok account @femmeintifada she has a group of verified families from gaza on telegram also it's vatted by @transmutationisms you can see in my pined post 🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉

and here is my Instagram account:@palestinian_survivor19 so you can take the content about me videos and pictures of me and my family so that you can repost it in your account

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Donate to Help Mohammed Almadhoun and his Family evacuat from Gaza, organized by Loria Rahime

**Help the Almadhoun Family Escape from Gaza** You tube v… Loria Rahime needs your support for Help Mohammed Almadhoun and his Family

5

HOURS SINCE LAST DONATION EVERY BIT COUNTS

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶It's Christmas morning at the Munson's and Adrie has a small request.✶

NSFW — slow burn, fluff, lovesick yearning, very light angst, 18+ for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 7/? [wc: 3.4k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07

AO3

Chapter 7: Breakthrough

Dreams of sleeping in were crushed one tiny footstep at a time.

Morning broke through the burgundy bed sheet hung as a curtain in the window. Slivers of blue fought away the slumbering gloom clinging to the peeled wallpaper, invading the small bedroom in drowsy clock ticks. Murky wine-colored shadows caressed the bundled comforter, crowded the pillows, soothed closed eyes into sweet dreams. Darkness cradled his head and sold him a lullaby fantasy. An aching yearn of a dream where the cold penetrating the thin trailer walls was kept at bay by more than his own body heat. Arms encircling him, a kiss behind his ear, a gentle wake up call. An idyllic rapture easily woven from the fibers of his unguarded heart. An aspiration quickly escaping his wishful fingers at the sound of running, and the vibrations of the trailer shaking, and–especially–the little voice yelling at him his five extra minutes were up.

“Daddy! You have to wake up.” Adrie jumped knees-first onto the mattress, and bounced her way over to him. “It’s Christmas, you have to get up!”

He grumbled from his warm pocket of air under the covers, and she whined.

“Please,” she begged, crawling towards him.

He winced, and hissed, “Ow-ow-ow, watch the hair. Miss Mouse won’t like me if I go bald.” He dropped his head back to where she sank her mighty fists into his pillow, and she apologized by putting all her strength into shaking his shoulder instead.

Wayne called from the kitchen, “I’m gettin’ started on our famous Christmas casserole.”

“Now that,” Eddie said in an upbeat tone, “I’ll get up for.”

“You’re mean,” Adrie pouted, scooting until her knees dug into his spine, and added on to it by saying it wasn’t fair he was making her wait to open presents.

Eddie twisted around to see her manufactured sad face (practiced over the years to elicit the strongest pity in him), and he snaked his arm out of the blankets to hook it around her, bringing her wriggling self in for a sloppy kiss on her forehead. She made a ‘yuck!’ sound and pushed away.

“Go sit, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Willfully, Adrienne slipped from his hold and sprinted the length of the trailer, rattling the metal window panes along her way.

In the following moment of quiet, he inhaled deep, and sighed through his hands scrubbing over his face. The oil in the electric radiator popped. A bird chirped. Music blasted from a neighbor’s home. A faraway bike skidded, spitting up loose rocks from the trailer park’s entrance.

Eddie rolled onto his back, and blinked at the stained ceiling. He tried to not make a habit of sleeping in Adrie’s bed now that she was older, but sometimes his back cried for a break from the lumpy couch cushions.. His back, his hips, his knees, his neck. All of it. Every now and then he needed the relief, to flatten himself out on the mattress after several long days of work wearing down on his body, even if it was considered weird or wrong by others.

Swinging his legs over the short drop to the floor, Eddie straightened out his thick knit socks, sweatpants, sweatshirt. He rubbed his knuckles against his dry eyes, stinging a line of water along his lashes. Flipped off the switch to the heater. Ran his fingers through his tangled hair, mouth tasting of stale beer from drinking last night with Wayne.

He stepped out of the room that used to be his, and staring at him down the hallway, past the kitchen, at the other end of the lousy home, was his little girl. She sat crisscrossed at the stout tree smelling of fresh sap, illuminated by colorful strands of lights, and backed by old ornaments previously stored in cardboard boxes. Her eyes sparkled with silver tinsel happiness, and her springy curls bounced with the excitement of her wave.

Wayne wrung a damp dish towel around his hands as he and Eddie made their way to the couch, and he gestured at her. “Alright, darlin’, you can go.”

The sacrifices were worth it.

In this lousy home filled with overdue bills and underprivileged struggles, was an abundance of love and awe. Eddie sat at the edge of his make-do bed with scratchy cushions that chafed his skin raw, and brushed his shaky fingers over his lips. “Yeah? Is that the one you wanted?” he asked, grinning so wide his puffy sleep-deprived eyes nearly closed from the unbridled joy he felt watching his daughter tear into the Rockin Robot cassette player and recorder; a toy which had an attached microphone so she could record herself singing onto blank tapes. “Wanna make music just like me?”

“Yes! I love it!”

It didn’t take long for Adrie to open her presents in the established order–smallest to largest. Stocking stuffers first, which she dumped out onto the pine-needled carpet, and snatched all the chocolates to put on the coffee table next to the plate of cookie crumbs and empty Looney Tunes mug. Tossed the pack of new socks and dress into a pile, but wore her pink rain boots. The talking Barney the Dinosaur doll, cassette recorder, and Barbie Fold ‘n Fun play house were placed aside for assembly and batteries later.

Wayne gathered the ribbons and bows she discarded to be saved for next year, and said, “Okay, Miss Adrie. Looks like you have one present left.”

The forest green bag with a portrait of Saint Nick sat propped against the tree, nearly as tall as Adrie when she stood and grabbed the handles. She peeked inside, and in one motion, dropped to the floor, and dislodged gift after gift. An eight-page book with reusable stickers she could move around to create scenes of dinosaurs roaming the land. A big box of 64 crayons with two coloring books. A plastic jewelry making kit. A puzzle. Containers of Play-Doh. And the very last item, turned over and shaken out from the bag, was a unicorn.

Adrie squealed, and swept the stuffed animal into her arms for a merciless hug. “He’s so cute!” she said, burying her face in the powder blue fur.

Eddie stopped tracing his lips. Wayne tilted his head at the scene, confused.

Spotting a small red envelope amongst the torn newspaper her presents were wrapped in, Adrie picked it up, and mouthed out the handwriting she wasn’t familiar with. “Santa left this for you.” Adrie held it out for Eddie to take.

Prying his gaze off the unexpected hoard, he accepted the envelope with his name on it, not uttering a word, nor reacting more than necessary. She bolted for her toys, and Wayne’s scrutiny was hot on the side of his expressionless face, watching him slide his finger under the corner of the flap and break the seal gently, avoiding tearing the paper.

He pulled out the card to reveal an illustration of two cardinals in a pine tree flocked with white glitter snow with a generic greeting on the front. Certain words were underlined in pen afterwards.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

He opened it to see if anything was written inside.

One glimpse.

He smashed the card closed and turned his face away from his uncle.

Collecting himself, Eddie sniffed and ran his knuckles along his jaw until he reached back and wrung his nape as he stood up, and walked to the coat hooks, slipping on his jacket and shoving his feet into his work boots without acknowledging his family.

“Where’re you–?” Wayne stared at his back in quiet bafflement.

“Goin’ out for a smoke,” he answered, and shut the door behind him.

~~~

Tree branches stilled after the delicate breeze knocking them together ceased. Hungry dogs went inside for kibble and warm blankets. Kids stopped riding their bikes when their moms called their names. Humidity dampened the crisp air. Everything hushed.

Eddie sat on the frumpy loveseat on the porch built onto the trailer. His forearms laid on his thighs, and the card remained clapped between his palms. He took a shaky breath. Exhaled. Or tried, anyway, to breathe despite his nose stopping up.

He opened the card again and read the message spanning the entire blank space available.

merry christmas eddie,

i hope adrie likes the gifts!

i know it’s hard for you to find peace,

so i tried going for quiet things that would

keep her busy, like the puzzle. it’s double sided!

that’ll keep her entertained. and i loved

play-doh as a kid, so i hope she does

too. & i can get her more coloring books if

she doesn’t like the animal ones. i know

Continued on the other side–

the bracelet kit says ages 7+ but maybe

you can supervise her. i remember having

one when i was little, before parents cared if

we choked on the beads.

SEASONS GREETINGS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR

if she’s not still in her unicorn phase, spare me!

it was too cute to pass up.

anyway, please get lots of rest over the holidays.

you deserve to relax.

–♡–

    mouse

His daughter came dashing out the door, and ran up to him with her jacket flapping around her arms. He shoved the card under his thigh, and shifted his focus to zipping it up for her to silence his emotions from surfacing, not having the energy to risk shattering the facade of the morning by explaining why the unicorn she galloped up his leg meant more to him than it did her.

“You like what Santa got you?” he asked, running a heavy hand over her hair.

“He knew exactly what I wanted,” she rejoiced.

With the temperature dropped, and her boots shiny, she raced the stuffed animal up to his hip, and left him to babysit it while she played outside in the frozen-over yard.

Gladly, he tucked the unicorn companion under his arm as Wayne pushed open the squeaky side door and joined him.

Under normal circumstances, Wayne’s old man stoicism worked wonders on getting Eddie to talk. It was a sure thing. He’d see him come home with red-rimmed eyes, or that far away gaze on the worser days, and he sat in earnest patience, knowing his nephew needed the cool down time to organize his thoughts, and then he’d explain what had him upset.

It worked less well in the years following the incident which led to Eddie’s ostracization from Hawkins, but he just had to be patient. It would work. Eventually. Just had to be patient.

And when his nephew refused to speak, Wayne sparked up a cigarette, and ventured, “I don’t, uh, remember us buyin’ those last presents.”

“They’re from the receptionist at work,” Eddie stated. He didn’t move his gaze from staring holes into the worn down floorboards, but he did sink back into the couch, combing his fingers through the unicorn’s white mane.

“Oh,” Wayne said in genuine surprise. “That was nice of her.”

Treading carefully, his uncle spun his hand as he thought of the best way to approach the real conversation he wanted to have. “She seems nice.. To you, and to Adrie.”

That was when Eddie shook his head. “I know where you're going with this,” he warned, absent of any real threat behind the words.

He went silent in stubbornness.

But Wayne just had to be patient.

“She’s very.. uh.” Eddie sighed. He started again, this time looking up at the rusted awning as if it had all the answers to his love life woes. “She’s very vibrant, y’know? From the city, lives a big life, loves performing for people. She doesn’t need a gray cloud like me hanging over her.” He laughed a hollow laugh, and bumped his shoulder into Wayne’s, pretending their conversation was of the light-hearted variety. Like admitting these things aloud didn’t cause a devastating blow to his neglected self-esteem. “Doesn’t need someone like me tying her down to a place like this.”

Wayne scanned the same trailer park in the same small town with the same curse of bearing the Munson name, but he viewed them with less disdain. Less animosity. “You used to be vibrant too, kid. Used to always be talkin’ about your hobbies, playing music too loud, sittin’ out here with your guitar. Always bringing your friends over. What happened?”

Too many things happened, and they were not the kind he verbalized often, so Eddie chose the most obvious.

The corner of his mouth twitched at the joke flashing through his mind. He got in real close to Wayne’s face, raised his hand, and directed his attention. “My vibrancy’s currently ruining her new shoes.”

Tracking his finger, Wayne slowly turned his head in time to see Adrie crack the ice barring her from a puddle, and stomped it into smithereens, sending mud up her pajama pants and into her pretty pink rain boots. She jumped, and jumped, and giggled, and jumped, all over her dad’s heart.

Satisfied, Eddie hugged the unicorn to his chest after making his point.

“Have you considered maybe she likes gray clouds? Or she’s the type that looks forward to the rainy days?”

“We can drop the weather analogies, Wayne,” he said in a curt tone, cutting off his uncle's incessantness. “It’s not that, anyway. I know she likes me, I’m not that dense.”

Wayne didn’t put much effort into keeping the humor out of his voice, “Then what are you being dense about?” The contemptuous head tilt and accompanying eye roll were earned, but not regretted.

“She might be moving away at the end of summer.”

He took a long drag on his cigarette. “Might be?”

“She doesn’t know yet.”

He watched Eddie’s expression slacken to stark blankness again–face and posture wilting, weighed down by his fate–already resigning on a relationship he hadn’t yet given a chance. “Don’t you want to at least try? I mean, you never know. What if she–?”

“Don’t you think I’ve thought about that?” Eddie interrupted, growing annoyed at the topic and allowing it to seep into his temper. “Don’t you think I’ve sat here, day after day, and thought about it from all angles? Over, and over.” He became more animated as he spat out questions rapid-fire. “What if she stays? What if she leaves? What if things work out? What if they don’t? Do I deserve it even if it’s short term? Can I handle it when Adrie asks me why she’s not around anymore? Like, fuck. It’s all I think about. Constantly! Just again, and again. She could move back to New York and live her accomplished life without ever giving me another thought, but what if she doesn’t want to go back? What if she wants to stick around? What if she wants to work with me at the garage forever, and we get married, and buy a small house with a white picket fence, and live out our textbook dream together with 2.5 kids and a dog. Who knows!” Done ranting, Eddie ended it in a full bodied shrug, and collapsed into the cushions, releasing the most cathartic, yet dramatic sigh Wayne had ever heard. “She’s all I think about. Drives me insane.”

Wayne held out the pack of Camels to him, but it was rejected in a limp wave.

“I..” Eddie’s mouth hinged on the words, bottom lip quivering as the questions he posed washed over him as an exhausted, watery-eyed truth, “I didn’t even realize how bad the stress had gotten until she just..” He motioned. “Fixed it.”

Acknowledging the bitter reality, Wayne nodded. “You are much nicer to be around since you two started hanging out.. Adrie sees it, too.”

Not that Eddie meant to be an asshole, but after grueling hours of hard labor, he had little tolerance for the arguments before bath time, or the meltdowns before school. Months prior, he was alongside his daughter, crying harder than she did when the smallest inconvenience set her off, ending with both of them huddled on the floor; one of them screaming to be understood, and the other in a hopeless heap of a man who reduced himself to a shitty father who couldn’t do anything right, drowning under the pressure, anxiety, responsibility to not fuck up again.

Now, he was able to swim to the sun glimmering on the surface.

Wayne landed his rough palm atop Eddie’s untamed bedhead, and soothed him, “You should give yourself a chance at something great. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces if it doesn’t work out.”

Eddie sniffed, and wrung his lips to the side. “You gonna pick up Adrie’s pieces too?” he asked softly.

“I will, son.” Despite the rocky times in their relationship–the slammed doors, the yelling matches, the coming home with a newborn and no money to afford baby formula–Wayne promised him, “Whatever it takes to make you happy. I’ll do it.”

The egg timer in the kitchen dinged.

“Breakfast’s ready,” he grunted, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, and giving the quick-nod-with-a-flattened-smile older men were known for after confiding in one another, and he went inside.

There wasn’t much time for Eddie to process the weight of his internal decision before Adrie was climbing onto the loveseat. And if she noticed she left a trail of mud up his pant’s leg on her way to kneeling beside him, she didn’t care. All that mattered was her icicle skin melting in the warmth of his heavy arm wrapped around her middle; and effortlessly, she fell into the comfort of his embrace while working her hands beneath his hair, untucking it from his jacket’s collar, and hugging him back.

Eddie stashed the card in his pocket, and grabbed the unicorn by the back of its head, putting the nose to her cheek and pretending it was giving her kisses. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, pulling strands of his curls around her fingers while her cold nose was pressed to his throat. “Can Miss Mouse come over to play?”

“Not today. She’s busy with her own celebrations.”

It was weird how calmly he could answer her. No twisted tongue sitting in his mouth like lead, no tensed stomach from an assault of nerves, no racing thoughts of you and Adrie becoming too close before he was ready to disappoint her. The fear was still there, of course. But he didn’t dread it. He held his daughter tucked against his body, and whispered into the unruly hair she inherited, “But she will soon, okay?”

“Yay!” She showed her excitement by constricting her arms around him in a perfect vice.

He wedged the unicorn between them and scooped her onto his hip. “What say you, Princess Adrienne? Shall we go in for a bit of Christmas morning casserole, and partake in reindeer games after getting you into your winter attire? Hmm?” She wasn’t responding. “Adrie?”

Her mouth was hung open, and her hand out, palm turned upward, making a grabby motion at something over his shoulder.

Eddie listened to her, and turned.

Snow fell, fell, fell from the low hanging clouds smudging the sky in shades of gray, bestowing the trailer park with fat flakes drifting beyond the safety of the porch, melting onto the dead grass and brushing past his car’s mirror. Pretty, pretty things of childlike magic Adrie caught on her fingertips. Special things floating to the edge of the wobbly floorboards, and sticking to his hair for her to laugh at.

“I love you,” he said in a kiss to her bitter cold cheek.

“Love you too, Daddy,” she replied in the same fashion, with an additional kiss from the unicorn to the tip of his nose.

Doors around the trailer park opened. Wide eyes of wonder gazed up, and around, searching for friends to celebrate with. Eddie felt exposed in his all black outfit against the growing landscape of white. They were looking at him. Judging him. Munson. But, unlike any other day, the desire to bolt from their intrusive stares dwindled with each graze of his thumb over the card in his pocket.

when you're scared/nervous of posting anime/manga canon x oc content because of the overwhelming preference of canon x reader

i love to write ocs because it's something i've been doing since elementary school (ages ago...leave me aloneeeee i'm old), but it's a solid blow to the gut when you come across posts/comments about people putting ocs down for being self-inserts or not having the description of said oc (eye/hair color, body type, etc), hence why the focus is shifting more to canon x reader instead; after all...and this is just for example's sake...what would you rather read: satoru gojo x oc OR satoru gojo x reader.

everyone is entitled to read/enjoy what they want, and it's hard when you, the writer/creator, see what preference is...well...prevalent in the writing community and you only write in one style.

whelp...thank tiktok and sometimes tumblr for making me self-conscious. maybe that's why i haven't been making progress lately on my work.

:/