#I just can’t come back here it’s still the bad place

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

MORE MEAN!RAFE PLEASE!!! Maybe leading from the last ask and it’s him being the desperate one and she’s just scared of him now but she still loves him or smth idk lols

even when you pushed me away

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — stalking

summary — rafe somehow finds you after you frantically ran away from home.

authors note — this is a continuation of my mean!rafe series. it is in my rafe cameron masterlist under “au’s” if you’d like it read it as a series instead of a standalone. thank you guys for all the love with this au, it means the world to me. please request more!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

“why are you here, rafe?” you asked, your voice firm and unwavering even though you were slightly terrified and cowering behind your half-opened front door. “how did you even find me?”

he shook his head and brushed it off. “why am i here? because you just got up and left. no note? text? a call? nothing,” he explained calmly. “why? and where is all your stuff?” you bit your bottom lip nervously and stared at him. to your surprise, he looked genuinely confused. “did i do something?”

you almost laughed. did he do something? was he serious? “you should leave. i don’t want to talk to you,” you stated while beginning to close the door.

he lunged forward quickly and pushed back on it slightly, not enough for you to be scared that he was going to force his way in or anything like that, but just to keep you from shutting it in his face. “please, baby. i jus’ wanna talk to you. i want you to come home. i wanna know why you left in the first place.”

your resolve was beginning to slip. he was being so sweet and his eyes were all glassy like he was going to cry. “rafe, i don’t want to talk to you. i can’t,” you said a little more forcefully.

his bottom lip trembled slightly and he stared at you with wide eyes. “why not? what did i do wrong? if its about not spending enough time together, i promise i’ll change. i’ll clear my schedule for the rest of the week and we can spend every second of it together. jus’ please, come back home.”

“it’s not about that,” you replied. you wanted to leave with him so desperately. he sounded so torn and sad and it was beginning to make your heart break for him. “you’re not a good person. i can’t get mixed up with that.”

a tear slipped down his cheek as the realization set in. “baby, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered softly before talking a step closer to the door. you threatened to close it, narrowing the gap between you and him. that made him take a step back instantly. “please. jus’ come home and i’ll explain. i promise you. no lying, no bullshit. i’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

you felt your nose begin to sting and tears pool in your waterline. “i can’t, rafe.” you quickly shut the door and twisted the lock. a loud bang sounded on the door and you instinctively jumped back as you sobbed.

“open the fucking door!” he shouted angrily. you could hear his voice tremble before he began to repeatedly bang on the wood. “open the door!”

you slid down the wall and curled up into yourself, letting the tears call and the ugly cries escape your mouth. you’d never seen this side of him and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t terrify you to your core.

“baby, please! i’m begging you to open the door. i just want to talk to you,” he said, his voice slightly muffled through the barrier. “i need to talk to you. i need you to know that i’m not a bad person. please.”

you were pretty sure you were past that point now.

[gpcwsl]

Lia wälti x reader where reader comes down with food poisoning and is beyond sick but still insisting she can go to training after spending their day off and the whole night being sick. Lia looks after her and tells her that she is not training she needs to rest

Lia Wälti x Reader

- I’ll be fine -

WC: 713

MasterList

Warnings: short, sick?

You wake up to the sound of your alarm blaring and immediately regret it. The moment you move, your stomach churns violently, a fresh wave of nausea washing over you. You groan, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes in an attempt to will it all away.

You’ve been like this since yesterday—your one day off, ruined by what you’re now certain was a bad meal. The day had started fine, but by the afternoon, you were battling stomach cramps, and by the evening, it was a full-blown war. A sleepless night followed, leaving you shaky, exhausted, and feeling like you’d been run over by a truck.

Still, it’s training day, and you’re convinced you can power through it.

You manage to sit up in bed, though it takes far more effort than it should. Your head feels heavy, your limbs even more so, but you start to shuffle toward the bathroom to splash some water on your face.

That’s when Lia appears in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression caught somewhere between concern and disbelief.

“Are you seriously trying to get up right now?” she asks, her Swiss accent soft yet pointed.

You freeze, mid-step, and try to muster up a nonchalant tone. “I’m fine, Lia. Just… a little tired, that’s all.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You’ve been throwing up all night. You barely slept. And now you think you’re going to training?”

You sigh, leaning against the doorframe for support. “I have to go. Jonas will kill me if I don’t show up.”

“Jonas will understand,” Lia counters, stepping closer to place a gentle but firm hand on your arm. “You’re not going anywhere in this state.”

“I can do it,” you protest weakly, though even you don’t believe it at this point.

Lia shakes her head, her expression softening as she guides you back toward the bed. “No, you can’t. And you don’t have to.”

You’re too tired to argue further, allowing her to help you sit down. Your body sinks into the mattress, relief flooding through you despite your stubbornness.

“I’ll be fine,” you mumble, though your voice lacks conviction.

Lia crouches in front of you, her hands resting lightly on your knees. “You’re not fine,” she says gently. “And it’s okay to admit that. No one expects you to push through when you’re this sick.”

You glance down at her, guilt creeping in. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.”

Her expression softens even more, and she reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re not letting anyone down by taking care of yourself. In fact, you’ll be letting the team down if you push yourself too hard and end up even worse.”

She’s right, of course, but it’s hard for you to let go of the guilt. You sigh, leaning your head back against the headboard. “I hate being sick.”

“I know,” Lia says, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But that’s why I’m here—to make sure you rest, even if I have to fight you on it.”

True to her word, Lia spends the entire day looking after you. She brings you tea and dry crackers, though you can barely stomach either. She adjusts the pillows behind your back when you’re lying down and puts a cool cloth on your forehead when you complain about feeling too warm.

At one point, you manage to fall into a restless sleep, only to wake up to the sound of her soft humming. She’s sitting in a chair beside the bed, reading a book, but her attention shifts to you the moment your eyes flutter open.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, setting the book aside.

“Like I got hit by a bus,” you admit, your voice hoarse.

Her lips twitch into a small, sympathetic smile. “Sounds about right. But you’re not getting up until you’re better, understood?”

You nod reluctantly, too tired to argue anymore. “Thanks, Lia. For… all of this.”

She reaches over to squeeze your hand. “Always. Now, get some rest. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

And with her by your side, you finally feel like you can let go of the guilt and focus on getting better.

[bybobbysbeard]

The Last Few Hours

Day 10 for @bucktommyfluffebruary: sleepy cuddles read on ao3 read other days here

Buck wakes to the soft, muted sound of a rainstorm. Everything else is quiet and far away. It must be late, or very early. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. It's peaceful here, in that slow, syrupy place between sleep and wakefulness. He’s curled up on his side, a warm body pressed up behind him. There’s a broad, masculine chest against his back and thick thighs brushing the backs of his legs. A heavy arm rests on his side, fingers absently stroking over his stomach. Soft lips touch the back of his neck. They’re so close, not an atom of space between them. 

He would know that body anywhere. It’s as familiar to him as his own.  

Buck rubs his face into the pillow. The rough, starchy fabric snags on his stubble. That’s… wrong. Buck converted Tommy to his fabric softener immediately after moving in. Their sheets don’t feel like this. Also, they’re both fully dressed for some reason.

He opens his eyes. Instead of the cream-coloured walls of their bedroom, he’s looking at the empty bunk across from him.

He’s in the communal bunkroom. Nearly all the lights are off, and the blackout shades are drawn. One bedside lamp casts a cool white light over their corner of the room. 

That’s right, he’s at work. Trying to nap away the last few hours of agonizingly long 72 hr shift. 

He goes to turn over, but the arm on his waist weighs him down, one large hand spreading out over his belly and holding him still. “Shh, baby. There’s not enough room.”

“Tommy? Why’re you here?” He reaches down, over the sheets; tracing rough knuckles and blunt nails. That hand flexes, pressing him into the body behind him. 

Tommy’s low voice warms the back of his neck. “Your shift’s over. I came to pick you up.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He yawns, blinking and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “I usually set an alarm, but I guess I forgot.”

“Don't worry about it.” His hand goes back to rubbing Buck’s stomach. “Hen mentioned your leg was bothering you, so when you didn’t wake up with everyone else, they let you sleep. How bad is it?” 

Buck takes stock, bending his knee gently and rotating his ankle. It throbs dully, but considering the amount of calls over the last three days, it could be worse. “Not too bad. It’s sore. The rain makes it ache sometimes.”

“I remember.” That aquiline nose runs along the side of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Why are you in a bunk with me? Not that I’m complaining.”

Tommy laughs softly, warm breath gusting over Buck’s hair. “Well, Bobby sent me in to wake you up, but you didn’t answer when I called your name, and then you just looked so cute. I couldn’t resist.”

“Tommy!” He knows he’s whining, but if his family finds his boyfriend spooning him in the bunk room, the teasing will actually kill him.

“Oh hush, only Bobby is still here. I saw Hen and Howie leave, and Eddie was already gone when I pulled up. I’m not giving them any more ammunition.” Another kiss is pressed to his neck, and Buck can’t help but relax back into the mattress. It really is too small for the two of them and the white sheets have been washed thin and bleached half-to-death. The pillow is so flat, it’s basically flush with the mattress. The whole setup is miles away from their comfortable bed at home. 

But Buck is still so tired. And Tommy is so warm.

Tommy jostles him. His eyes pop open again; he hadn’t meant to close them. He can feel Tommy smile against his skin. “Evan, sweetheart, don’t fall back asleep. At some point, Bobby will come in here. And he will probably take pictures.”

Buck groans. “Okay, okay. You’re right. Let me up.”

Cool air rushes in behind him when Tommy shifts away, making him shiver. The rain gets louder against the roof. There’s some quiet shuffling as Tommy gets to his feet, straightens his clothes and walks around the bunk to face Buck. 

Buck braces himself, and carefully swings his legs off the bed. His foot tingles as blood flows through the swollen limb. He knows if the alarm was ringing, he’d be sprinting into his turnouts. And hurting. More than five years post-bombing, his leg still has limits that he can’t ignore. It’s frustrating. If he hadn’t picked up a shift in the middle of his week, he wouldn’t need to be this careful with himself. But he doesn’t regret it. Having someone from B-shift owe him a favour is always worth it. He mostly just regrets that all of his family has medical training. They usually notice him favouring his leg before he does. 

Tommy is standing in front of him. He’s muted to monochrome by the dim lighting. His well-worn jeans look silver, his black t-shirt is a void. The blue of his eyes is washed out to grey. He holds out his hands, open palms facing up. 

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“I know. Can I help anyway?”  

Buck looks up at him. There’s nothing hiding in his open expression, no pity or judgement. He didn’t think there would be, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from checking. He puts his hands in Tommy’s. The bed frame squeaks as he’s pulled upright. A strong arm wraps around his middle while he finds his balance. When he's steady, Tommy leans in, peppering gentle kisses over his cheeks and lips. Buck sways forward, letting his boyfriend take his weight. The kisses taper off, until they're just standing there, forehead to forehead, wrapped around each other. Tommy pulls back a few inches and smiles at him. 

“Ready to go home?”

[steddieas-shegoes]

the taste of you

for @steddielovemonth inspired by the quote "there is never a time or place for true love. it happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single, flashing, throbbing moment." - the truth about forever by sarah dessen

rated m | 1717 words | cw: blood, canon adjacent events | tags: eddie lives, steve has a crush on eddie, first kiss, getting together, post-vecna

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

The sky is red. It’s dark, the air is damp, and Steve hates the Upside Down.

This place genuinely sucks.

It sucks even more when he can hear Dustin yelling, but can’t see him.

It sucks the most when he finally sees why Dustin is yelling.

Steve’s heart stops, but his legs don’t.

He runs.

He runs so fast, his legs nearly give out.

They do, when he sees how bad it is.

Eddie’s dying. He’s bleeding too much.

Dustin knows it, that’s why he sounds like he’s in pain. Dustin’s seen enough near-death and death alike. Steve’s not letting him see it now, not with this guy he looks up to.

Steve starts CPR, wipes blood off his lips before he starts compressions. It’s a taste he’ll never forget.

When he thought about tasting Eddie, it wasn’t like this.

He keeps going, and the time keeps ticking, and Eddie’s heart doesn’t quite beat right, but he is breathing. Steve has no idea how he’s going to keep him breathing while they get him out. He can’t think about that when he’s trying to maintain his own oxygen levels to keep Eddie alive.

He’s keeping Eddie alive.

“Somebody get us out!” Steve manages to yell before he starts giving Eddie the air from his lungs.

Nancy is yelling and Dustin is screaming about not leaving them, but then Robin’s hand is on his back.

“Let me take over for a minute,” she says, voice shaking with nerves. She knows CPR because Steve insisted she learn after the Russians. He insisted everyone learn, but he hasn’t been able to teach everyone yet. He leaves her space to take over.

Nancy is tugging Dustin back to the trailer. He knows she’s coming up with a plan.

He wipes blood from his lips.

Nancy is gone for long enough that Steve starts taking over again with CPR. Robin is keeping an eye on things, making sure she doesn’t need to tap in again, making sure no rogue bats are coming back for seconds. Or thirds by the look of Eddie’s mangled body.

A warm hand touches his back as he’s trying to keep the life inside Eddie’s chest.

He pulls away. He wipes blood from his lips.

“C’mon kid, I gotta get him out of here,” Hopper is nudging him away. He doesn’t know how or why Hop is here. He doesn’t ask. He just needs him to save Eddie.

Hopper takes Eddie into his arms, lifts him up, and starts walking to the trailer.

Robin is holding his hand while they follow behind.

Eddie’s eyes open as they walk and Steve sees it, feels it.

There’s a zap of electricity between them.

Steve tastes blood again.

He wipes his mouth, but there’s nothing there.

Eddie’s eyes close again, but Steve doesn’t look away.

****

Steve’s head is pounding, but he refuses to leave. Robin brought him water and a sandwich about an hour ago, tried to convince him to go home and shower, take some Ibuprofen. He refused.

He wipes his mouth. There’s nothing there.

He wants to taste Eddie without blood in the way.

He wants to know Eddie without the fear of the police arresting him or Vecna cursing him or bats eating him alive.

He wants to touch Eddie with soft hands, knowing that he’s breathing on his own.

He wants to know what it’s like to love Eddie.

But Eddie’s still in recovery from surgery, and no one is allowed to see him, not even his uncle. Wayne is soft spoken, kind, but won’t take any nonsense from anyone. He gives Steve a nod every time a nurse gives him an update, a silent confirmation that Eddie’s still alive.

It’s enough for him for now, but his chest pulls tight at the thought that the only time he’d have Eddie close is when he’s dying.

“Mr. Munson?” A doctor calls for Wayne.

Steve knows better than to walk over there, but his ears tune in as much as possible.

“He’s in a room. I’d be shocked if he wakes up anytime in the next 24 hours. It was touch and go for a while, but we managed to find all of the internal bleeding and stop it. The external wounds are stitched up, but the scarring will be extensive. He had a skin graft done on his side, and that will be a painful healing process for the next few months. He currently has a fever, so we’re monitoring for infection. Whatever attacked him did enough damage that I am concerned he may have permanent muscular damage. It’s hard to know until he wakes up exactly how functional he will be, but be prepared for the worst,” the doctor explains. He’s straightforward, facts only, and Steve kind of appreciates it.

“The worst being?” Wayne asks.

“We don’t think he’ll be paralyzed, but enough damage has been done to his left side that he may be unable to walk. His neck had enough damage that speaking may be very painful or impossible for him. We aren’t going to know about his ability to hear or see until he wakes up, but his left ear was bleeding, which leads me to believe his eardrum is damaged enough for some hearing loss to be present. We just want you to be prepared.”

“Right. Anything else?”

Steve is standing much closer now, hadn’t even realized he moved until he was practically right behind Wayne.

“Not at this time. You may go back to sit with him, but I do ask that you don’t touch him. We don’t want to increase the risk of infection, and we don’t know what parts of his body are hurting at this time.”

Wayne nods. The doctor tells him the room number and general directions and walks away.

Steve wipes his mouth.

“Well? You comin’?” Wayne asks him.

Steve jumps. “Huh?”

“I expect you wanna see the boy after all you did to make sure he lived,” Wayne is smiling at him.

“But they said…”

“I heard him. I’d like to see ‘em stop us. They got a lot goin’ on right now anyway. Won’t even notice.”

So Steve follows Wayne to Eddie’s room, which is dimly lit and at the end of the hall, out of the way of a lot of the chaos happening around them. Wayne hasn’t asked questions, almost like he knows he shouldn’t. Steve won’t be able to answer.

Eddie’s asleep, and a lot of his body is covered in bandages. What isn’t still looks dirty, his skin caked with remnants of mud and dirt, with dried blood.

Steve wipes his mouth, grateful there’s no blood on his lips.

Wayne sits in the chair next to his bed. Steve stands by the door.

He feels like he’s guarding him, doing everything he can to protect him while he rests.

****

Eddie wakes up four days later.

He can move, but it’s extremely painful. He can hear, and see, and mostly talk, though his voice is raspy from disuse. Steve’s been in and out at Wayne’s insistence.

He sleeps at home for a few hours, showers, eats, then comes back.

No one comments on his presence, not even Eddie.

Not at first.

He stays in the background while the kids visit and find normalcy where they can. He stays out of the way when Wayne visits, happy just to see Eddie giving him a hard time from his bed. He keeps quiet when the doctors and nurses and Hop all sit down to talk to him about his progress.

Eddie doesn’t seem bothered by him hanging around. If anything, he seems to be trying to entertain him, maybe keep him here longer. Steve feels a fondness settle in his chest, and it stays there, makes a home in his lungs and his heart.

Eddie is reading, alone for the first time all day and enjoying the quiet. Well, he’s alone in the sense that Steve is sitting off to the side, not bothering him.

Steve wipes his mouth.

“You do that a lot,” Eddie says without looking up from his book.

“Do what?” Steve didn’t think he did anything. He’s just sitting, making sure Eddie’s alive.

“Wipe your mouth. I don’t remember you doing that before,” Eddie sets the book down on his lap. “You’ve done it six times in the last hour.”

“Oh,” Steve frowns. He doesn’t remember doing it that much. “Sorry.”

Eddie searches his face for something. He nods when he finds whatever it was.

“Come here,” Eddie sets his book on the table that’s still holding his dinner tray. They haven’t been by to pick it up yet.

Steve stands and walks closer to the bed.

“Closer.”

Steve leans in.

Eddie grabs the back of his head, firm but pulling him in gently. Steve could pull back if he wanted to.

He doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t know what’s happening, but he doesn’t want to stop it.

Eddie’s lips brush his. It’s enough pressure to be considered a kiss, but it’s over so quickly, Steve isn’t sure he registers it right away.

“There.”

“There?” Steve asks, resisting the urge to immediately lean in for more.

“It’s just my lips now. Nothing else. Nothing to wipe away.”

Steve blinks. Did someone tell Eddie about…?

“Robin told me about the CPR.” Eddie smirks. “Well, actually she said that she had to taste my blood and she would never forgive me for it, which led to me asking why Wayne told me you performed CPR. Then she explained and I noticed your little nervous habit.”

Eddie’s thumb brushes against his bottom lip. No one’s ever touched him like this, so soft, so gentle.

“I’m here. There’s no blood where it shouldn’t be. You saved me. You and Robin saved me.”

Steve’s lips part, his breath catches.

“Can I check?”

Eddie smiles. “Yeah, Stevie.”

Steve kisses him, feels his lips moving against his, and it’s different. All he tastes is Eddie’s spit, the garlic from the mashed potatoes he had for dinner, and the hint of something spicy, maybe the soda Wayne snuck him after the nurse left earlier.

No blood.

No dirt.

No sweat.

Just Eddie.

And that moment is all Steve needs to know he loves the taste of Eddie.

[funnyjb]

We Live In Time

…………………………………………………………………………….

“The treatment plan is this, you are to start chemotherapy followed by surgery to remove the rest of the tumor, then chemotherapy again for the final stage of treatment.��- doctors Adams

Joe and yourself sat in the two blue chairs in front of Doctor Adams. His voice sincere and mellow.

“So, chemotherapy then do the surgery and after surgery chemotherapy again?”- Joe

“Yes, correct.”- Doctor Adams

Joe looked at you.

You were still and quiet, picking at your fingers. Do you even want to go through all of this again? Should you? You knew you had to fight, but didn’t know how much strength you could give.

“How…how long would the treatment be?”- you

“Probably around 5 months.”- Doctor Adams

You nod.

“What times would she need to come in? Does she-”- Joe

“What happens if I don’t do the treatment?”- you

Joe looked at you confused.

“Then you will enjoy time with your family and friends. You still can while in treatment.”- Doctor Adams

“Right.”- you nod

——————————-

You guys were walking to the car hand in hand. The weight of the conversation weighed on both of you.

“Joe, I don’t know if I can do it.”-you

Joe stopped.

“I don’t know if I have enough strength to give. I went through this before. I don’t want to go through it again.”- you

“Y/n, it’s your choice, but at least try. You are the strongest person I know. You can do whatever you set your mind and heart to”- joe

“I just…I will do it. I just don’t want to have my last moments on this world having to be inside a hospital room filled with ill people. I want to be able to watch you at games and cheer you on with Bella. Not be in some hospital room.”- you

“Y/n don’t talk like that. You’re not going to die. You can’t.”- Joe

“Joe! Wake up. This is real. I know it sucks and it’s sucks to think about but it needs to be said.”- you

“I know. Let’s talk about this later, but I hear you and I see you. Whatever you decide I will stand by you..”- Joe

Joe kisses your forehead.

“I love you.”- Joe

“I love you too, let’s go home.”- you

Joe opens the car door for you to get in.

————————————————-

7 years ago

The room was filled with sweaty kids and the lingering smell of cigarettes and weird alcohol beverages.

“Y/n! Come here!”- Lily called you over

You nod.

Wearing your black Jean skirt with white tank top and obviously paired with your black converse.

“Y/n, meet Joe and Sam.”- Lily smiles

Sam reached out his hand for you to shake.

“Hi, I’m Sam.”- Sam

“Y/n,Nice to meet you!”- you

Joe then reached his hand.

“Joe.”- Joe

“Nice to meet you, Joe.”- you

You noticed he was kind of quiet.

“They play football. They are pretty good. I was telling them we are going to next week’s game.”- Lily

“Oh! Cool. I’m excited for the game, heard it’s a big one.”- you

“Yeah, against Michigan. Hate those guys.”- Sam

You laugh

“Oh, Sam, let’s go play beer pong!”- Lily

Lily pulls Sam away.

Now it’s just you and Joe.

“So, you play football. What position?”- you smile

“QB2.”- joe

“Wow! Not bad, Joe.”- you

Joe laughs

“I’m a back up. Nobody cares about me.”- Joe

“Don’t say that! I haven’t seen you play, but I’m positive you are a great player.”- you

“Thanks.”- joe smiles

You nod

The music is loud and the sounds of plastic cups falling keep filling the room.

“Where are you from?”- joe

“California. Born and raised in Huntington Beach.”- you

“Wow! That’s nice. I was born and raised in Athens, Ohio.”- Joe

“Oh! Ohio native, that’s nice.”- you

God, why did I say that. “Ohio native”

“Yeah, very different from cali.”- Joe

“Yeah, very different.”- you nod

“Want to go somewhere more quiet? I honestly can’t deal with all of this right now.”- joe laughs

“Sure, it’s a bit Loud for me too.”- you

Joe leads you to his room. The only quiet place where there isn’t shouting and speakers in your ears.

“I like your room. Surprisingly clean.”- you chuckle

“Thanks, I try.”- joe laughs

You then sat on the edge of his bed. Red solo cup in hand and legs crossed.

“Do you have any siblings?”- joe

“A sister. Her name is Spencer.”- you

“Nice.”- joe plays with the pen on his desk

“What about you?”- you

“I have two half brothers. Both way older than me. Jamie and Daniel.”- joe

“Oh, that’s nice. Are you close?”- you

“Yeah, when I was born they were In college, but I try to talk to them everyday even when they give me shit.”- Joe

You laugh.

Joe kept talking. The more you listened to him the more you felt more intrigued by him. His confidence, his demeanor, his humor, and his features. The way the corners of his eyes when he smiles crinkles up. The way he is really passionate about something he will start to get a spark in his eyes and get more excited about the topic.

After that night you guys kept talking more and more. After a while both of you developed feelings. Strong feelings. You guys became each other’s best friends. You guys would always be dying laughing on the floor about something, holding each other’s hands in public, watching the office every night, and holding each other in your sleep and never wanting to let go.

———————————————

Fast forward to present

“Bella, daddy and I want to talk to you about something.”- you pull Bella onto your lap.

You guys were sitting on the couch. Joe next you.

Bella sat up eager to figure out what you wanted to tell her.

You felt tears pricking in your eyes, but you knew you had to stay strong and not scare Bella.

“Mommy is sick. It’s going to be hard for her these next couple months. She will be very tired, but I know we will take care of her and give her the biggest cuddles, right?”- joe

“Yes!”- Bella

You chuckle

“Do you have the flu, mommy?”- Bella

“Um, no sweetie. I have something on my ovaries which is making me sick. I have to get treatment to make it go away.”- You

“But you will be ok, right?”- Bella

You take a deep breath.

“Yeah…yeah I will be ok.”- you

You giver her a kiss on the head.

“Go play with your dolls, baby. Dinner will be ready soon”- Joe

Bella gets off your lap and runs to her room.

A tear drops down your face. You wipe it away hoping Joe doesn’t see.

But obviously he did.

“Y/n-”- Joe

You get up from the couch.

“I’m going to make dinner. pasta and ground turkey sound ok?”- You

Joe doesn’t respond. You’re already gone into the kitchen.

—————————————-

The next couple months was spent going to game and cheering on Joe. The atmosphere was electric. The fans. The lights. The feeling of hope. Of course there were some loses but you stood by Joe and helped him in ways that he couldn’t.

You did your chemo. Going in and out of the hospital.

One day you were sitting on the couch reading a book. A romance novel from one of your favorite authors when Joe sits next to you.

“We should get a dog.”- you

“What?”- Joe

“Or a cat. I heard it’s great for dealing with grief and life adjustments. Especially for kids.”- you

“Y/n, stop. You aren’t going to die. I can’t let you do that.”- Joe

“Joe! You stop. You have to think realistically. It could happen. And if it does I want you and Bella to be able to have an animal that will help you deal with all of it. Like a dog or cat.”- You

Joe stands up

“I CANT LOSE YOU, Y/N! I cant physically be away from you. I just can’t lose you. I wont let that happen. You need to fight.”- Joe

You didn’t know what to say.

“Joe…I’m sorry. Im sorry this is happening. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”- you stand up

“You and Bella are my world. I fight every day. On good and bad days to be able to be with both of you. To see you laugh about a SpongeBob joke, to see you hug after a long game, to see you read bedtime stories until Bella’s eyes are tired, I want to be with you and her.”- you

At this point you were full on crying.

“I want to grow old with you. I want to see you win a superbowl and MVP. I want to see you laugh and cry. I want to see your smile the second I wake up and the second I go to bed. I love you even when we fight or argue. I love you when you come home from a loss and don’t even want to say anything. I love you so much it hurts. I’m sorry this is happening. It sucks. But it’s real and I need to realize that.”- you

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry this is happening. I love you with all my heart.”- Joe

Joe holds you.

You wish you were in a bad dream hoping to wake up.

—————————————

12 months later

“Mommy!”- Bella

“Hey.”- you smile

Bella climbs onto your hospital bed.

“Look what I made you!”- Bella

Bella holds up a card. It you and her with flowers covering the page. It’s also filled with wonky hearts and a “get well soon!”

“Aw, baby, I love it. Thank you so much.”- you pull her in for a hug and a kiss

“You’re welcome!”- Bella

Joe walks around to the other side of the bed.

“Hi.”- Joe smiles

“Hi.”- you smile back

He gives you a kiss

“How are you feeling?”- Joe

“Tired and everything aches.”- you

Joe nods.

“How about we watch something?”- Joe

“Yeah!”- Bella

Bella cuddles in next to you.

Joe moves over the big chair to be seated next to you.

“Alright! Let’s watch Moana? How does that sound?”- Joe

“Perfect.”- you

“Yes!”- Bella

Joe hits play.

As the movie goes on Joe turns to look at you.

Bella was cuddled into your side. She was sleeping and so were you.

He took a mental picture. He held on to that moment.

———————————-

The door opens to the house.

“Teddy!”- Bella

The dog comes running over to her.

“Hi!”- Bella

Bella laughs

“Alright, let’s put your book bag down and let’s make a snack.”- Joe

“Ok, daddy!”- Bella

Bella follows Joe into the kitchen.

“Want some apples and peanut butter?”- joe

“Yes, please!”- Bella

“Coming right up.”- joe picks out the apples from the fridge.

He closes it. He stands there for a second. Looking at the picture hung up from a magnet on the fridge. A picture of you. A picture of all of you.

He smiles.

It’s been a year since you’ve been gone. A year without his wife. A year without Bella having her mom around. A year since both of there life’s been changed forever.

Joe remembered a thing you said to him before you passed.

“I want you to stay strong. I want you to move on, when you are ready. I want you to know I will always be here. In your heart. I will always love you Joe burrow. I will love you forever. I’m sorry we didn’t get to grow old together. But I’m hoping you will grow old with someone else. Someone who loves you just as much as I do. Someone who will make you happy. Someone who makes Bella happy. You are such a wonderful dad. She loves you. She looks up to you. Don’t ever forget that. I love you. I know you will go on and do great things. Stay focused and be the kind loving boy that you are. I love you with all my heart.”

————————————————————

The end.

Authors note: hi!! Hope you enjoyed! I tried to make it as realistic as I could. I don’t know if anyone of you has watched the move “we live I time” but it’s a great one! Definitely recommend!🤍

[lovedontjudge535]

“Please please” KK was begging Paige to keep the stray puppy they just found. They were walking back after a Crumbl trip and found it stranded in a box near the woods.

“You know we can’t keep dogs in our places or I would” Paige had fallen in love with the dog at first sight but she needed to be responsible, Genos already on her ass about every single thing. KK had matched the dogs puppy dog eyes and was not making it easy. Of course she caved.

“Fine she can come with but no one can know AND she stays with me.”

“Ok fine but all nighter tonight so I can be with her too” KK knew she had no room to argue as she was just happy the puppy wasn’t going anywhere.

Timeski

Paige and KK snuck the puppy in with no problems. They doordashed the supplies they’d need and had her set up in Paige’s room so she could get settled as soon as possible.

“PAIGE ARE YOU HERE YOU HAVEN'T ANSWERED YOUR PHONE ALL DAY” Paige and KK looked at each other wide eyed. Azzi. How could they have not thought about the girl who spent almost every night in her bed. KK went and locked the bedroom door quickly knowing she’d be walking into the room any second.

“How is that a solution?” Paige sharply whispered to her. “Quick call her and say you need her in your room so she’ll leave” KK blindly reaches for her phone and dials Azzi contact. Once Azzi answers KK freezes and can’t get a word out. Paige tries to mouth words to her to help but it does no good.

“Azzi. Room. Help.”

“What kamorea what’s wrong are you ok, I can call your roommates to help till I get there”

“NO” Paige and KK yelled at the same time. Covering there mouths with there hands in shock. They heard Azzis footsteps getting closer to the door. She tries the doorknob and realizes it’s locked.

“What the fuck is going on” she exclaims “open the door and don’t think I didn’t hear you in there Paige”

KK went and opened the door enough for one eye to look at Azzi. “Heyyyyy girl what’s up” stick to basketball. Azzi shoves open the door pushing KK back. She catches sight of the dog supplies first.

“Explain. Now.” She was now looking at Paige’s back which was facing her. The dog was between her and the wall and Paige was silently praying she’d not bark. Nope.

“Paige Madison I know I didn’t just hear a dog. You have two seconds to turn around.” Growing impatient she grabs Paige’s shoulder to turn her. What she sees warms and breaks her heart. Paige was clutching the puppy like her life depended on it and immediately went in protective mode.

“You can’t take her from me-“ “Paige” “No Azzi she needs me, needs us. Someone left her in a box. Who fucking does that.” “Paige” “ You can’t take her from me I won’t let you. KK attack” KK immediately jumps onto Azzis back. Paige took that time to run out the room with the dog. She then realized that her car keys are in the room, which has now turned into a WWE ring of Azzi trying to get KK off.

Luckily her car was unlocked still and she sat in the car with the dog on her lap. “It’s ok I’m gonna figure this out little lady” the dog excitedly licks Paige’s cheek “you like that name little lady huh, don’t worry that beautiful girl who came is your other mommy. She’s amazing ya know. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I know I disappointed her with keeping you so hopefully she will come around. I have had a bad habit of doing that recently.”

“Shut up.” Is what Paige heard scaring the shit out of her. “Let me in. Now Paige.” Paige immediately unlocks the car and let her climb in. Azzi immediately faced her.

“What are you doing, A DOG?!” “Please don’t yell it freaks Little Lady out. KK and I found her earlier today. I’ve gotten everything for her and she actually has a vet appointment tomorrow. I’ve been so stressed out with the season, she’s actually been a good distraction.” As she says that Little Lady starts licking away the tears Paige didn’t even notice had fallen.

“Well seems like you’ve been handling the whole thing correctly. But paige you know the rule.” Azzi wanted to be upset but seeing them together took any emotions away except for her love for the girl. Paige went to talk but Azzi cut her off “You’ve not disappointed me nor will you ever. KK told me everything and I won’t lie I would’ve done the same thing. Except better” she jokes causing the tension in Paige’s shoulders to deflate.

“So I can keep her”

“We will see what we can do and baby?” Paige nodded for her to continue.

“Don’t ever doubt yourself especially when it comes to us. You have never once been a disappointment and you will never not make me proud. The grace and patience you’ve given me, you need to give yourself some. The only reason I know what love is and what it feels like is because of you. You are the one person that made me risk everything for a future worth having. It's like my life isn't even real to me unless you're there and you're in it and I'm sharing it with you. We are a team and now” laughing a little at the end she added “we are a family”

[fairyhaos]

❖ moonstruck // kim mingyu

mingyu x f!reader, 2.2k+ words

tags: sculptor!mingyu, muse!yn, pining, ambiguous relationship, fluff, angst, mingyu is Down Bad

notes: title + vibes taken from moonstruck by enhypen cz it fits the feel that i was going for :P forgive me bc i know nothing ab sculpting/muses but i just had to write a fic where yn is devastatingly gorgeous and this js fit so well <3 happy valentines day!

summary: mingyu is a sculptor, and you are his muse.

When Mingyu arrives at his studio that morning, he finds you already there, lounging around like you own the place.

"Oh, sweetheart, you're late again. What's it gonna take for me to make you finally come on time? A kiss, maybe? A promise of a date?" You smile at him mischievously, eyes glittering in the morning light.

You're watching him amusedly, arms tucked behind your head, resting comfortably on the sofa on the other end of the studio. This is not necessarily a surprising sight: despite the fact that you do not, actually, own the place, it’s still common for you to be there before he arrives, playing with the various clay creations lining the walls or dangling your feet over the edge of the sofa, waiting for him to clock in for the day.

Mingyu scrunches his nose, and does not respond to the latter half of what you said.

“I’m really not late,” he says, setting down his bag and hanging his coat up by the door. “You’re just early.”

You hum contemplatively, kicking your feet out and crossing your ankles over the armrest on the other end of the sofa. The cracking, coppery leather grumbles discontentedly at your movement, but you hardly notice, stretching leisurely like a cat.

“Maybe. Or maybe time is a construct, and neither of us are early or late.”

Mingyu blinks at you, tilting his head. “It’s not even 10. Let’s not talk philosophy until at least 3 in the afternoon, please.”

You laugh at that, silvery and light, watching from your place on the sofa as Mingyu begins setting up his sculpting supplies for the day. 

“Whatever pleases you, my dear Mingyu,” you say, words lilting melodically with teasing. “As your muse, it’s my duty to be as pleasing to you as possible, after all.”

Mingyu just rolls his eyes, used to your teasing. “Of course,” he says dryly. “Though I’m afraid it’s debatable just how good you are at that, though.” He laughs when you huff in indignation, before pulling out his sketchbook. “You saw the sketches I sent you last night, right? Is there anything you want to comment on, or should we start right away?”

───────────── 🏛

You are Mingyu’s muse.

It sounds horribly cheesy, and definitely makes you sound like the romantic interest in some sort of historical-royal-heart wrenching-romance-novel, but he literally means you’re his artistic muse.

This wasn’t always the case. You weren’t always solely his—a few years back, you’d simply been one of the hired models for a class he’d taken back at university. But he’d been utterly mesmerised by you, and so in awe of your beauty that it must have shown on his face, because you’d always catch his eye as he worked, an elusive little smile in your eyes, like you knew exactly how he felt. 

And then one thing led to another, and suddenly he was meeting you outside of classes, and then he was seeing you even when that particular project had finished, and then he was still sculpting you after he’d graduated, and then, and then, and then…

And then here he is, now. 

It’s still something he can’t wrap his head around, even so many years later. How these one-on-one sessions started. How you became his official muse.

“This better turn out amazing, because my arm’s cramping up really badly right now,” you say, voice strained from having your head tilted back for so long, and Mingyu laughs.

“You’re the one who suggested this position,” he says, pencil lightly tracing your form onto paper. “I don’t think you get the right to complain.”

“I have plenty of right to complain,” you argue, opening one eye to glare at him. Mingyu just grins toothily back. “Ugh, whatever. Just hurry up, okay?”

“Hey, you can’t rush art,” Mingyu teases, but he finds his fingers complying anyway, taking longer, sweeping arcs of graphite against the page. He’s almost finished, anyway, with this pose being a lot easier than some others that he’s put you in before. Yet in some ways, it’s going to be even harder for him to complete.

He has you wrapped in swathes of silk, sat on the floor with your legs out in front of you, the cream fabric slipping off your shoulder slightly. You’re leaning back on one arm, the side of your head resting on your shoulder, face tilted upwards as if soaking in the sunlight, eyes shut and eyelashes fluttering gently against your cheeks.

The long, horizontal line of your body makes this a relatively easier art piece than ones he’s attempted before, and while the folds of silk are going to be tricky, that’s not what he’s worried about.

You look so… delicate. 

“Okay, let’s take a break,” Mingyu says, when he sees your arm beginning to shake. It’s not a hard pose, but he knows that keeping one position for too long puts strain on the best of people.

You groan with relief, relaxing your arm and flopping to the floor. “Thank God. Any longer and I would’ve definitely collapsed. Turned into a heap on this floor.”

Mingyu hums, adding further details to his sketch. “I think you already did. Don’t worry, sweetheart, you look pretty even as a heap on the floor.”

He can almost hear your eye roll, and he laughs, looking up from the paper to take in your disgruntled expression, only for the laughter to catch in his throat.

There’s no sign of annoyance on your face, and now he’s looking at you, he doubts you rolled your eyes either. Instead, your expression is strangely unreadable, eyes half-lidded, strands of hair falling across your face like curls of ribbons, lips softly pursed. Lying on the floor like that, hair and silk pooling around you as you blink slowly at him, you look like some sort of nature deity, watching him and observing countless things that Mingyu can hardly even begin to understand.

You’re gorgeous. 

Mingyu knows this—it’s why you’re his muse—but the realisation always makes his heart stick in his throat when he remembers. 

You’re still looking at Mingyu, gaze as dark as molasses, smoky and sweet and pulling him in, making his hands shake and his pulse sound loudly in his ears.

And then you smile, cheeky and playful once more.

“Oh, thank you so much, I’m glad you think so, honeybun,” you say, full of mock-relief, and Mingyu has to blink to remember what you’re thanking him for. “I knew I could always count on you to find me beautiful.”

You dramatically fling your arm over your eyes as you say this, the perfect image of a romantic, distressed maiden having their feelings reassured by the hero, before peeking out from under the back of your hand to flutter your lashes and smile at him.

And Mingyu knows this is an act, that this is just you teasing, but it’s a lot more difficult to tell that to his heart.

“What’s for lunch, by the way?” you ask, taking your arm away from your face. “I’m hungry.”

Mingyu swallows thickly, avoiding your gaze, not wanting you to see every thought written across his face. “It isn’t even lunch time yet. Why are you already hungry?”

“Hey, don’t deny me my right to eat,” you complain, subconsciously smoothing down the silk that’s wrapped around your body. Mingyu sighs internally, already anticipating the hassle he’s going to have to go through to get the folds to sit how they were before. “Modelling for you is hard work, you know.”

Mingyu just hums dryly. “Whatever you say. Unfortunately, break time’s up now, so you’re gonna have to eat later.”

You whine in annoyance, but make no move to resist when Mingyu stands up, walks over and begins rearranging the silk around you again. “Fine. For the sake of art, I guess I’ll go hungry. I’ll be the true tortured artist, or something.”

“Quit the dramatics. We’ll eat when it’s actually lunch time.”

“How about in ten minutes’ time?”

“No.”

“Twenty?”

“No.”

“Fine. You drive a hard bargain, Kim Mingyu.”

───────────── 🏛

So what exactly is it about you that made you his muse?

It’s a question that Mingyu gets asked a lot. By his parents, by his customers, by his friends: none of whom can ever truly understand what a muse is when it comes to art.

You’re not just a really pretty person. To Mingyu, you are—everything. You are beauty, passion, vivacity, intricacy, warmth, cold, colour, light, dark, fear, danger, happiness, love. Looking at you makes his heart twist in his chest, makes his head feel faint and dizzy, makes his eyes burn like he’s been staring right at the sun.

He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know how. But being with you, looking at you, makes him feel so heart-wrenchingly alive, skin buzzing with the need to carve your visage onto paper, into clay, into stone, to keep you with him forevermore.

It shouldn’t be possible for one simple human to make him feel like this. And yet…

Mingyu has to pause from where he’s bent over your face, the proximity and his thoughts making his hands begin to shake. It’s not actually your face that’s in front of him right now—rather, it’s your face that he’s currently chiselling out of marble—but even just thinking of you and being inches away from something that he’s making to look just like you causes him to act like this. 

But there’s just something so terrifyingly intimate about his craft, about bringing your features out from cold stone, breathing life into the lifeless. 

“Why do you do what you do?” you’d asked him once, back when he was still at uni, back before you were his official muse, and he was struggling through charcoal sketches for an assignment he’d been putting off for days. That was, until you’d offered to model for him, and suddenly, the ideas flowed smoothly onto the page. 

(You’ve always been his muse, since day one.)

He’d looked up from his smudged fingers, watching you sit in front of him, backlit by the soft sunlight streaming in from the window. It made you look like you were glowing, gentle light emanating from your skin in a delicately beautiful way. Not as blinding as the sun, but something softer.

Moon-like.

You take his breath away, and Mingyu had ended up stuttering out some ridiculous answer that he can’t even remember anymore, but thankfully, you seemed to accept it, going back to posing in the pensive position you’d been in before.

If he were to answer the question now, without you here to steal all his words, the answer would be rather simple.

Because he loves it.

Carefully, Mingyu brushes a dusty finger over the jagged profile he’s carved into the marble. The edges are too sharp, the slope of your cheek too unrefined, but Mingyu’s heart only swells in anticipation and adoration for what he knows the finished product will resemble. 

It’s electrifying, seeing what he can bring to life. Like a mad scientist, an obsessed genius, he wonders how far he can go. What things he can make with his bare hands.

Whether he can truly make something that is so very you.

You’d been here earlier to model some more, but you’re gone now, busy meeting up with friends. You don’t normally come in to pose once he has a project fully underway, but he always asks you to come when he starts doing the face properly. Just in case he gets anything wrong.

(It’s all an excuse to spend more time with you, however. He knows your face so well from how often it’s appeared in his dreams, and from how it's carved in his brain.)

“Please try to make it a little bit like me, this time,” you’d teased, eyes shining like twin stars. 

Mingyu had simply laughed, waving you off. “Come on, my sculptures always look plenty like you.”

“Nonsense. None of them ever come close to the absolute perfection that I am.”

It had been a joke, but Mingyu had found himself looking up as you gave him a wave and then walked out without a second glance. He’d watched you go, watching the trail of moonlight you left behind in your wake, soft-scented and silver-lined.

There’s some truth to your words, however. Nothing he’s made has ever come close to perfectly replicating the warmth of your skin, the sweetness of your smile, the light that you exude just by simply being.

You’re so magnetic, a bewitching push-and-pull he can't back out of, endlessly drawing Mingyu in towards you like he’s hopelessly locked in your orbit and cannot even think of breaking away. 

That kind of thing is near-impossible to replicate. But, if it’s for you…

“This time, I’ll get it,” he promises to the empty studio. His words ring about the room like a bell, reverent and full of conviction.

Mingyu looks down at your half-finished face, still rough around the edges, but the curve of your lips looking oh-so smooth. With a shaking hand, he traces over the shape of your mouth, imagining how soft your real lips would be, how the tip of his thumb would press into the plushness of it.

Would you let him press his lips to yours in this way? Would you accept such an act of devotion?

Or would you slip away from his grasp, elusive as moonlight, ghosting over his senses before disappearing without a trace?

He doesn’t know. He really doesn’t know.

Swallowing down his heart, Mingyu takes his hand away from your face, avoids your eyes, and carries on with his work.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit @dokyeomkyeom @hopeless-foolery

[frogsinflannel]

WIP Wednesday

-nobody tagged me, but I saw several "consider yourself tagged" so I'm co-opting one of those. don't judge me.

untitled re-established bucktommy snippet feat. eddie

“I just want something to… to show him I’m serious, you know?  Like that this time we’re going to do things right.”

Eddie grunts, out of frame, and then pops up and wipes his forehead, a ring of tape around his wrist like a bracelet.  “Buck, isn’t he the one who broke up with you before?  You had to take him back.  And I know I’ve been teasing you about it, but.”  He shrugs his stupid bare shoulders, wearing one of his stupid muscle tanks.  Buck thinks, not for the first time, that it’s a shame Eddie’s so goddamn terrible with relationships; he could probably pull if he tried.  “I’m kind of glad that he groveled.”

Buck looks down, tries to hide his smile with a hand over his mouth.  “He didn’t… he didn’t grovel.”

“A little bit.”  Eddie’s nose wrinkles and he holds up his thumb and forefinger, almost no space between them.  “He groveled a little bit, and honestly, man?  You deserved it.”

“Well.”  Buck blows a quick stream of air.  “A-anyway, Eddie.  I just.  I want to do this right.”  He makes an emphatic motion with his hands, cutting through the air in front of him.  “I want to be intentional.”

“You could try talking to him,” Eddie suggests.  He has one eyebrow lifted, a challenge, like he thinks Buck’s not going to talk to his own boyfriend.

“We talk,” Buck says.  He’s not being defensive, either, he’s cutting Eddie off at the pass on that one.  “We talk a lot.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “when you’re not busy doing other things.”

Buck thinks for a moment about trying to argue the point, but Eddie’s right.  He shrugs, instead, and lets his face split into a cocky grin.

Eddie laughs. “Okay, calm down there, big guy. Keep it in your pants. And if just telling him doesn’t work—“ Buck scoffs but Eddie ignores him. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”  He takes a deep breath and looks off to the side.  He’s in the living room of his rental and it’s a mess, with his belongings scattered around and boxes everywhere.  Buck’s been talking to him while he’s been packing.  Soon, he and Chris are coming back to LA and Buck can’t wait.  Eddie grabs a baseball cap from the floor, inspects it, then tosses it into the nearest box.  “You know,” he says, groaning as he stretches out to reach something Buck can’t see, “maybe you could do something kind of special for an anniversary.  Take him out, get him to take you out, just.  Do something to mark the occasion.”

“I don’t know,” Buck says.  He watches Eddie pick up a stack of magazines and then throw them in a box, too.  “You don’t think it would send the wrong message?”

“I think it would say ‘hey, I’m happy to be with you, I think that’s worth celebrating, I want to mark this date to celebrate in the future’--which kind of seems like the right message to me.”

It’s not a bad idea, and Buck mulls it over.  Eddie packs up another box as they talk, and then finally tapes it up and gets off the call so he can go to his parents’ house for dinner with them and Chris.  An anniversary could be good.  Maybe.  Though their last anniversary dinner was kind of a disaster and Buck doesn’t want any kind of repeat of that.  Maybe eating at one of their places instead of going out.

About twenty minutes after they hang up, his phone pings with a text from Eddie.

>>>still think the anniversary idea is a good one but instead of going out i thought of something better. Tell tommy this is what you want:

There’s a few seconds delay and then Eddie sends a link.  Buck taps it and an Etsy page opens with a listing for a bandana and a silver tag that both say “It’s my gotcha day!  YOUR DATE HERE.”

>>VERY FUNNY EDDIE

>>HA HA

>>LAUGHING SO HARD RN 😠😠😠

Bubbles show up while Eddie’s typing, and then:

>>>stop barking or i’ll tell him to get a leash

♡♡♡

Tagging anyone who wants to be share a wip, so if you made it to the end of this goofy ass snippet consider yourself tagged!

[shewrites02]

Pathetic | Toji Fushiguro x Reader |

A/N: This is a stand alone fic but in my mind it coincides with my previous fic Deserve. It is the same reader, though in my timeline this fic occurred first. I don't knowww if I'm quite feeling making a whole series but open to suggestions.

Join my Taglist <3

Word count: 780

Leave a comment if you enjoy :) feel free to reblog!

If there was any doubt, you are positively sure now. You hate yourself. That is the only explanation for why you would possibly be cuddled underneath Toji at 3am. The only explanation-

You’re an idiot. And you hate yourself. You’re an idiot who hates yourself. Who must enjoy the pain this man inevitably inflicts on you.

You watch as he sleeps peacefully, ignorant to the woes that plague your heart. This isn’t the closure you were looking for when you came here. One last time. That was all it was supposed to be. A goodbye. Not a wake for the future the two of you could’ve had.

As if sensing your unease in his sleep, Toji tightens the hold he has on you, bending down to lazily place a kiss on your forehead before falling back asleep. The gesture is a loaded gun, shooting the final bullet of reason in you.

This man would never really love you.

Trying to stifle your tears makes your chest burn as if you're choking. You couldn’t stay here. Can’t wake up the next morning and pretend he isn’t the same man from a month ago.

The man who made you beg for his attention. The man who couldn’t be bothered with your presence before the sun came up. He is still the same man using you for access to your body.

You slink from the slip of the hunters grasp,with the reassurance you were going to the restroom. In one swoop you snatch your clothes and hurry off. The embarrassed scurry you do to get your clothes on is motivation enough to get out the door as quickly as possible.

You don’t bother to wake Toji, in fear he may question your decision to leave in the middle of the night. The last thing you needed was an interrogation. At least that’s what you hoped- Fushiguro is already three steps behind you struggling to put a t- shirt on as he follows you out to the complex’s garage.

“Y/n.” He calls out, but you do not stop. He calls your name again, this time clamping his hand around your wrist impeding your escape. “Why are you leaving? You know you don’t have to leave.”

“Yeah, I should Toji. I'm just going to go.” It is easy to feign certainess when your back is to the man. When he can’t see the tears threatening to stream down your cheeks or the disappointment in your eyes.

“C’mon doll, its cold out here-” He tugs on your arms, urging you to follow. “let's talk in the morning.”

When you don’t move his brows furrow in a scrunch and he's on your side in minutes, peering over your shoulder to get a glimpse of your face.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He demands.

You can’t help the cackle that leaves your mouth. “What's wrong?” There isn’t a single thing “right” about the relationship- or lack thereof- the two of you have.

He ignores you for weeks at a time, busy on these supposed work trips while you wait around like a lost puppy until he comes back to stick his dick in you.

Pocket pussy.

That was all you were to him. All you are ever going to be.

Stupid. Stupid. Dumb. stupid. Bitch. You shuffle your feet to finally walk away, embarrassment beginning to settle its way on your cheeks. You make a half-hearted attempt to tug your arm free in hopes Toji will be so willing. He is not.

“This was a bad idea.” You reiterate

Tears are falling the moment the words leave your mouth.You fight hard not to let your voice tremble, to show all the pain bubbling in your chest. This absolute burning, suffocating, aching pain. Fueled by the scorched memories stifling your thoughts.

“Y/n please-.” He utters your name as though it’s his mantra. Like he actually cares for you. Like this isn’t more performative bullshit to have you second guessing yourself in bed tonight.

No. He wouldn’t get you this time.

This time you won’t be so naive. Won’t trust the distress in the twitch of his brow, or how desperate his eyes look. Ignore how broken his voice sounds.

None of it mattered. You are done playing the fool.

“You treat me bad Toji! You make me beg for your attention, for a version of you, hell- I don’t even think exists anymore but still-” Your voice catches in your throat. As though creating an interruption to allow your brain opportunity to catch up to your tongue. But It is too late-

“Still I’m standing here.. Not feeling good enough for you. How pathetic am I?”

If you enjoy my content or if you have $5 to spare , please consider donating it to Besan . she is a mother trying so desperately to get her family out of Gaza. She is still so far away from her go fund me goal!

Operation Olive Branch Spreadsheet

I know everyone may not have the means to donate, but if by some chance you have an extra $5 to spare please consider donating it to the families trying to rebuild their lives in the Gaza strip.

[vividiana]

wip whenever 📝

thank you so much to @xxnashiraxx @deadly-diminuendo @hellethil and @khywren for tagging me over the past week or so 💕 I've been feeling very uninspired lately so I didn't have anything to share

but! yesterday in a flash of fever-induced genius I had an idea for a modern au involving Eve and Astarion that I'm very excited about. I don't want to spoil things but the very basic premise is that Eve is in a witness protection program and she had to uproot her life and assume a new identity (for... reasons... don't worry about that yet.) and Astarion is, well... running from his past, let's say.

here's a draft of the not-so-cute meet-cute:

The white-haired man doesn’t look up when she stands before him, seemingly lost in thought as he scribbles something fervently in a journal in sweeping, messy handwriting. Through the scent of stale beer and fried food, she singles out a hint of his cologne—citrusy, fresh, and far more pleasant than anything the men around here usually wear, if they even bother. “Hello, my name is Eve–” He startles at the sound of her voice. There is a trace of panic in his eyes as he looks up, one that he instantly tries to cover up by straightening in his seat and donning a forced smile. The moment their eyes meet, Eve gets the strangest feeling of déjà vu she’s ever experienced. There is something familiar in that shade of blue, in the way his hair curls behind his ears. It catches her off-guard, the rehearsed introduction dying in her throat mid-sentence.  “I’m sorry, do I know you from somewhere?” she asks instead.  The man instantly tenses up with a loud scoff.  “Of course you would know me from somewhere. What else did I expect?” He gestures animatedly as he speaks, Eve blinking in confusion as she listens to his rant. “You move halfway across the country to finally get a break for once and– Are you one of those true crime freaks? Do you want to ask me how I did it? Do you want to know all the gory details? Fucking hell…” He drops his fountain pen on the counter with a loud thud and slips his glasses off to massage his temples, eyes shut tight in frustration. A couple patrons turn their heads to look in their direction, Eve’s cheeks growing hotter at the sudden attention. And perhaps, after this hell of a shift, that was simply the last straw. “Do not raise your voice at me,” the words slip past her lips before Eve can think better of it. The man seems genuinely taken aback and he opens his eyes, brows furrowed when he asks: “Excuse me?” “You seem to think you’re someone important. Sorry to burst your bubble, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. And no matter who you are, you shouldn’t speak to people that way, but especially not to those who handle your food and drinks.” She didn’t mean it to sound like a threat, but she has no emotional energy left to dull the edge of her words.  Maybe getting fired wouldn’t be so bad. Then I’ll never have to come back here. For a moment he just looks at her wide-eyed, opening and closing his mouth a couple times. Eventually he clears his throat and puts his glasses back on, sounding genuinely embarrassed when he admits: “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just– It’s been a long day. But still, that’s no reason to– I’m sorry.” The anger pent-up in her body starts to dissipate at his tone. He sounds… tired. In a way she recognizes all too well. “It’s been a long day for me, too,” she says. “Maybe we can try again.”  She turns away and takes a couple steps along the bar, then returns with a polite smile on her face to say: “Hello, my name is Eve, I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get you started with something to drink?” He chuckles softly and now that his face is more relaxed, Eve can’t help but think that he is quite handsome, in a manner that feels utterly out of place here. “That depends,” he says. “Are you going to spit in it or poison it?” “You’ve apologized, so neither. But you’re on thin ice.”

tagging: @verbenaa @funniestbitchinfaerun @obsessedwhyyes (word on the street is you have some Bloodweave cooking 👀) @roguishcat @olivedrop if you have anything you'd like to share ✨

[foofygoldfish]

hi this is idk me being vulnerable or whatever

but uh if anyone ever wants to chat or like… discord or whatever? I’d like that?

[lesbiansanemi]

Currently trying not to vomit over the fact that I essentially just lost almost a thousand dollars brb

[the-casbah-way]

i found loads of pictures of my uncle i am going 2 cry

[kavehayati]

I wish I could inject pasilyo into my brain so I can have permanent happiness

[raeathnos]

.

[exopelagic]

i can’t believe i managed to get fucking mono and didn’t even get it by doing anything fun