at the end of the day it's not that you hate your job - actually, you like working, you like routine, you like feeling like an adult - it's that any time you fuck anything up, you feel like you're fucking dying.
because you could be actually fucking dying. because if one day you wake up and you misunderstood something - you could lose your job, and nobody is hiring, and nobody is paying, and nobody takes people like you, and that job you want hasn't gotten back to you. and what exactly are you going to do without insurance? good luck with those meds. you should have thought of that before being a person.
so it's not just that you forgot to CC someone on an email, it's that if you don't have this job, you can't afford rent. it's not that you misread a comment, it's that if you get fired, you will be in massive amounts of unpayable debt. it's not that you are bad at your job, but here are the stakes as they have been decided for you: be perfect or fucking die. like, literally, die. that is how much safety net you have: none.
it's not burnout, technically. but you literally just had two typos in your work, and you're already picturing the ending. you want to throw up & curl up & make it all go away. it is two typos. if he decides he is mad at you, you lose literally everything.
your mom says that you seem stressed. the thing is that you have never known a job that isn't stressful. welcome to capitalism. there is no other road, only this one. what the fuck is a career. you come here, and we hold your life against the barrel of a gun, and somewhere someone is spinning the chamber and pulling. eventually the bullet will come.
you live in a mugging. your boss owns three cars and has four kids. you worry about having enough to feed your dog. good luck. beg for forgiveness. CC the right people next time and be grateful, kid. somebody has it worse than you. someone, probably, has it worse than you. so what if you can't sleep or eat or focus. your work chat sound literally makes you panic. you had to change the sounds of computer notifications so you'd stop having such an upset stomach.
welcome to the real world! the rat race! the dog eat dog circus!
your doctor studies the results and frowns at you. "it's bad for your heart," she says. "try to reduce your levels of stress."
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Feelings Thawed
Character; Cater Diamond
Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, pining, ice skating (to various degrees of success)
Word Count; 650+
Author's Note; This is a present/thank you to my mutual @i-like-forgs. I hope you enjoy this ice skating scene with Cater, and that you get to skate soon!
As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist
The brisk wind bit at your nose, and you pulled up your scarf, trying to keep away the offending wind. Around you it was a winter wonderland, all made possible in the temperate conditions thanks to Cater, who was filming you skating around on the frozen pond’s surface.
“You know,” you hollered, making sure that you caught his attention, “you should join me! It’s fun!” You came to a stop by the pond’s edge, where Cater was standing with a large thermos.
Cater just shot you a wink, handing you the thermos. “This is for you though, silly!”
He was deflecting, you could tell; behind that bright and cheery smile that he always seemed to wear around others, you knew when there was something off with Cater. You accepted the thermos though, and took a sip of the spicy apple cider, still piping hot.
You gave him a look and pulled lightly on his coat sleeve. “Yes, but it’s more fun with others, come on Cater!” You stepped back onto the ice, and slowly skated near him, waiting with an eager smile.
He looked at you, and then back at the ice, but he stayed standing in the light snow, shooting you that smile. “But I can’t take photos if I’m out there with you!” He scratched at the back of his neck.
Liar. “Cater,” you looped back around and stepped onto the bank, balancing on your skates, “do you not know how to skate?”
Cater’s smile turned sheepish, and his ‘ahahaha, looks like my gig is up’ chuckle made its appearance. He had been found out. “Never got the chance to,” he hid his face slightly in his scarf, either to keep the cold at bay or to hide that his cheeks were turning pink. “So I’d just slow ya down.”
You took his hand into yours, “Well, I could teach you if you wanted. Just a warning though, you’re gonna fall on your butt a lot, might get a few bruises.”
Cater looked down at your entwined hands. Mittens and gloves separated your skin from touching one another, but Cater could swear that he could feel the sensation nonetheless through the layers of fabric.
“You would? Even if I pull you down with me?”
The last question wasn’t just about the ice skating; Cater didn’t want to force you to do anything that you didn’t want to… and that included being his friend. His heart seemed to whisper stronger emotions though, but he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.
You walked him out to the ice, and the both of you swiftly fell down on the ice, hard. But you just laughed and got right back up again, “Well, we did just fall. There isn’t anything scary about falling down; yes it stings and might leave a gnarly bruise, but in order to move forward we have to fall and get back up. So yes, is what I guess I’m saying.”
Cater looked up at you, the sun illuminating you and the snow glittered behind you. You were holding your hand out again, waiting for him. And Cater took your hand.
It took him a while to get the hang of it, and he fell down quite a bit, but every time he fell down you helped him back up. And by the time that the sun was setting in the west, the both of you were cold, and both were going to wake up tomorrow with some bruises. It was fun though, which is all that mattered… but that whisper in Cater’s heart was by now singing, and maybe he would listen to it, but for now, he was happy with how the way things were, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially with how much you had smiled today. Your smile and knowing that you had fun with him was enough.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii
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we used to dye our tongues on purpose using kool-aid and i stood in the sprinklers with the grass already so muddy it was starting to do that thing where your lawn is now quicksand
i think i want to kiss you because you remind me of smoothing out the chalk drawing with gentle fingers. of anthills and feeding birds our leftover lettuce. of getting covered in briars while we picked blueberries from the backyard bush. i think i want to kiss you because it's a bad idea, and i think i want to kiss you because of how water grips the side of a pitcher of iced tea.
you said your life was a toddler's art piece, with paint splatted on your floor, in your mouth, in your hair. i was delighted by that.
i loved the idea of leaving color everywhere.
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@steddiemas Day 27: Keeping Warm
Steve had picked up a weird habit, Eddie had noticed. He was always carrying random spare clothes. Not like having a spare hoodie in the car, no like always having spare mittens, or scarves or beanies. It was endless his supply of clothes it seemed and Eddie couldn't understand, he'd tried bringing it up to Robin but she was no help.
"Why would Steve carry two scarves, he rarely even gets cold, he runs hot."
He'd asked Dustin hoping maybe the habit was just from babysitting.
"Spares? Why would he need spares, he never lets me leave without my coat."
It was completely peculiar but it seemed inevitable that any time Eddie had forgotten something, there Steve was with a spare.
The clothes were nice too, the wool soft and warm against his skin. They looked nice enough to be handmade and knitted but Eddie assumed Steve probably got them from a nice store that his mother approved of.
Eventually, Eddie confronted him on it. Today he'd forgotten everything on purpose and was shivering by the time he got to Steve's door. Steve had opened it before he even knocked, clearly hearing the van arrive.
"Eddie! You're turning blue, come inside!"
Eddie didn't want to admit that just Steve's fingers on his arm tugging him inside made him feel warm.
"W-wanted t-o p-p-prove a p-point," he said shivering, at least the Harrington's splurged on heat.
"What point? That you're too metal to be cold?" Steve exclaimed pulling out a big maroon wool sweater from the couch. The material instantly made Eddie feel warmer, it helped that it smelt like Steve and the other boy was rubbing him arms in an attempt to help.
"No, this! You always just have spare clothes for me."
Steve actually seemed to blush at this, "You're just always forgetting, I didn't want you to get cold."
"Sweetheart I don't need your fancy clothes I need to just remember to bring my stuff when it's snowing."
"Fancy?" Now Steve looked confused.
"Yeah fancy. Wherever you bought these clothes must be really expensive, they're so nice and soft, I've been tempted to steal them, I've brought them all in my car to return."
"You think they're nice?" Steve had a soft smile on his face, and Eddie feels like he's missed something.
"Yes Steve I think your fancy clothes from the store are nice, but I can't accept them."
"They're not from the store, I, I made them."
Steve was blushing more now and Eddie had an astonished look on his face. "You made these? All of them? They're so nice Steve, why aren't you wearing them."
"Cause I made them for you, so you'd stay warm, and..." Steve mumbled the end of it and Eddie took a step closer to hear him.
"What was that sweetheart?"
"I said so that you'd be wearing my clothes," Steve answered ducking his head.
Something finally clicked into place in Eddie's mind.
"Oh, Stevie, there's much more fun ways of keeping me warm, but I will be keeping all your lovely gifts."
"You will?"
"Of course, my sweetheart made them for me."
"Yours?"
"If you'd like."
"What was that about fun ways to stay warm?"
Ao3
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