#the things you see at a walgreens

[neverinchargeinactive]

"I swear this wasn't me."

[lynxgirlpaws]

I spent quite literally one [1] hour with my father and now feel like absolute shit. Unironically how does he do this [i am impressed]

[marcelloandtyler]

It hadn't gone well.

Marcello clutched his phone in his hand as he cut through a random backyard, keeping himself out of view of the streetlights. He doubted if Jake would come after him, but his heart raced and his body trembled as he kept to the shadows, hoping not to alert anyone to his trespassing. He jogged out into another neighborhood along the side of another house. An image of himself on a semi-grainy, night-vision video running through someone's yard appearing on the Neighborhood section of the Ring app flashed through his mind and he cringed at the thought.

He hurried down the street, seeing a busy road ahead. He figured he would find a store or fast food place and wait outside of it, where he felt safer, until he could figure out what to do.

Adrenaline kept him going until he got to a small shopping plaza with a Walgreens, a closed hairdresser, a small clothing boutique, a liquor store, and a McDonalds. He took a seat on a bench outside between two of the shops. As he sat down, reality started crashing in around him and he took a deep breath, keeping himself steady for long enough to open his phone. He quickly wrote a message to Levi. If he was asked later why he messaged Levi instead of one of his siblings or his parents or anyone else, he wouldn't be able to answer. It just felt right in the moment.

MARCELLO: Hey... Are you free?

He hadn't talked to Levi in nearly a week when he'd sent him an e-mail with a bunch of jobs he thought might be good for him. After that, he pointedly didn't open Levi's response, knowing he needed to stay away from him in case Levi decided to repair things with Max. He didn't want to get between them. Not again. But tonight, he couldn't help himself. It felt like he needed Levi.

[deantfwinchester]

Neighborhood Walgreens

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader like always

This one takes place before the other two timeline-wise, I guess - just a few months into knowing each other. No established relationship, and some ridiculous flirting.

Summary: A busy, sick Joel gets a little care from the people in his life - including the neighbor and friend he's been crushing on for the past few months.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff-fluffity-fluff. Bout to get a standing root canal appointment, tbh.

A/N: The bulleted fics are piling up in the notes app, but boy are the well-crafted girlies a bit of a trek. More to come, if the functioning part of my brain has anything to say about it.

Word Count: 5.9k. absolute unit.

——————————————————————————————

Joel wakes up feeling like shit. He’d felt a bit of a scratch in his throat the night before, but tried to write it off as allergies or something - until he woke himself up coughing before his alarm could even go off. He knows he has a cold the second he tries to breathe through his nose - no dice. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and it’s pounding before he can open his eyes. He shivers when he moves the blankets aside to get up, and each muscle in his body begs him to crawl back into bed.

Ever the trooper, he rises anyway, heading to the bathroom and checking the medicine cabinet to find what he’d feared - no cold medicine. Awesome. Resigning himself to trucking through the day, he blows his nose, pops a couple tylenol, and gets ready. His respiratory system isn’t too fond of the assault, however, and he’s coughing up a lung before he can finish. Today should be fun. He’ll need to stop by the drugstore on his way home. 

Once he’s dressed for the day (trying his best to look alive), Joel trudges down the stairs to see Sarah at the kitchen table, half-eaten bowl of cereal in one hand and a pencil in the other as she finishes the last of her homework. She hears him shuffle in and looks up just as he sniffles, locking eyes right before he can still his features into a facade of rested wellness. The  look on her face tells him he’s not getting away without worrying her, and he hates that. She doesn’t say a word as he makes his way to the coffee pot, she just watches him, only speaking up when he shivers at the mug’s warmth in his hands. The weather’s typical for an early autumn morning, but nowhere near chilly. Though the temperature should drop today with rain in the forecast, Sarah knows her dad and he’s never cold. 

“You know, I could just head next door. I guarantee she’d be happy to drive me,” she says smiling into her textbook, trying to be nonchalant with her concern. She was referring to you, their neighbor of a few months now, who’d given Sarah rides, helped her with homework, or checked in on her when Joel needed. You’d been around since the day you moved in, and neither of them could complain — certainly not Joel. Maybe she was hoping to fluster him a bit as well, suspecting his feelings for you were a bit more than the friendship he insists they are. 

He chokes on his coffee and coughs a little, shaking his head as she closes her book and begins leafing through her notes. Joel’s been worried enough lately that he’s taking advantage of your kindness too much — afraid he’s inconveniencing you and you’re too nice to say no, despite your insistence to help on more than one occasion. Besides, he already feels crappy, the last thing he wants today is for you to see him like this, hardly able to keep himself together. Or worse, to get you sick as well. Absolutely not. He opens his mouth to respond, but she speaks first. “It’s not like she hasn’t before. Maybe just one day? You need…,” she trails off, losing the battle with her expression as her eyebrows knit together and she notes the pallor and exhaustion on his own.

He takes a swig of his coffee hoping it will soothe the growing soreness in his throat before responding, “That’s alright kiddo, I-,” but the words catch in his throat before he can finish, and he cuts himself off coughing harshly into his elbow. Sarah grabs a glass and fills it with water while he coughs, longer than he has all morning, and hands it to him when he catches his breath. The look on her face is challenging now — she knows she won’t win this game, but she’ll still put up a fight. Predictably, Joel continues his previous thought as though unfazed by the fit, though his voice tells another story. “It’s just a cold, I’ll be fine. You don’t need to be worryin’ about me, babygirl,” he says hoarsely, waving her off with a sniffle. “You got a science test today, worry about that. You feelin’ ready?,” he asks, subverting talk of both his illness and mentions of you.

Sarah relents with a sigh, “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says, gesturing to the textbook and notes on the table. He’s more confident than she is, and he smiles brightly at her.

“You’ve got it down, not a doubt in my mind. Now finish getting your stuff together before we’re late. I’ll get the car runnin’,” he says, moving his coffee to a travel thermos before grabbing her lunch from the refrigerator and getting it packed up. She looks back at him hesitantly before leaving the room to gather the last of her school stuff. 

Joel’s got his coffee in hand and Sarah’s lunch in the seat next to him as he waits in the truck. It’s nice enough outside, but he’s still chilly, and wonders if he should run back in and grab a jacket. He forgoes this idea when he realizes Sarah’d put up more of a fight if he did, knowing he’s warm-blooded as all hell, and vocally hot until at least November. Not to mention Tommy’d see right through him the second he shows up to work. No, it’s just early in the morning. The day will warm as the sun climbs to its apex for sure. He’ll be alright. 

While he’s thinking too hard through the fog in his head, Sarah climbs into the car with her backpack on, pulling it off to throw into the seat next to her. But not before she’s placed two additions in the seat between them - a box of tissues and a water bottle. She doesn’t say anything to him, just gives him a knowing look before loading her lunch into her backpack. Joel stills a moment — he’s not surprised by her care, but softens at the gesture. As Sarah shuts the passenger door, Joel wonders how the hell she turned out so sweet, and kisses the top of her head in silent thanks before pushing the truck into drive.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Joel gets to work, his headache has bloomed into pain behind his eyes, leaving him squinting hard in the bright morning sun. He’s also used quite a few tissues since he dropped Sarah off at school. He’s definitely grateful she thought to grab them, but unfortunately, his congestion won’t budge. He’s not naive enough to think he can hide from Tommy, but hopeful that his brother might at least leave him be today. He can muscle through if he’s just working and not being nagged by his brother for hours. He’s sure of it.

—--------------------

Tommy’s not an idiot, but he lets him slide for the first few hours. It’s clear he knows something’s wrong. Joel’s a quiet enough guy, but never this silent, only speaking up when the work demands. He noticed when Joel got out of the truck this morning looking particularly drained - both in face and demeanor - and had checked in as casually as possible, hoping to avoid his brother’s evident and exceptional irritability. Joel, of course, had promptly brushed him off and clammed up for the remainder of the morning. Speaking only when spoken to hadn’t stopped Joel from making noise, though, much to his brother’s dismay. Tommy had seen him all morning, breaking into intermittent fits of coughing he’d attempt to mask beneath the racket of power tools. Tommy’s just about as good at hiding his concern, and Joel catches him looking in his direction in the thick of it on more than one occasion. After which Joel would rip his eyes from his brother’s fretful gaze, hoping to deter him from moving forward to give him a once-over. 

Despite his many efforts otherwise, Tommy knows Joel’s sick - too sick to be working like he is today. It’s when the guys break for lunch around noon and Joel just quietly nurses a bottle of water (which he only has because Sarah made sure of it, no less), that Tommy decides he’s got all the evidence he needs. Tommy sidles up next to his brother who’s leaning against his truck bed, and by the looks of it, allowing it to hold most of his weight, too weary to do so himself. Tommy sighs next to him, and Joel braces for what’s coming.

“You know, we’ve pretty much got it covered over here today, not a lot left to do before we pour anyhow. Probably a good thing, bottom looks like it’s gonna fall out before long,” he says, gesturing to the darkening sky above them. “We can manage for the day if you wanna head on home, maybe take a nap? Hate to tell ya, but you look like hell.” Tommy nudges his brother’s shoulder with his own playfully, attempting to lighten the mood. Joel rolls his eyes at Tommy, sniffing and clearing his throat to talk.

“Nah. ‘S just a cold. I’ll be alright,” Joel says, hoping to end the discussion with his curt response, but failing when his throat catches on the last word. Tommy’s face is etched in worry at the sound of the cough tearing up his brother’s throat. 

While Joel attempts to catch his breath, Tommy takes in the reddened flush on Joel’s otherwise pale face, and the distant glassiness in his eyes. Taking advantage of his distracted state, Tommy places the back of his hand against Joel’s forehead. He’s barely there long enough to get a read on his temp before Joel swats his hand away, but it’s enough. No wonder he’s caught Joel shivering more than once today. 

“Dammit Joel, you know better. We’ve sent guys home for less and you know it,” says Tommy, face twisting in frustration and concern. 

“Tommy it’s fine I-“ Joel attempts to reply, but Tommy cuts him off. 

“Did you even bother to check it before ya left? You know this is a fuckin’ hazard on the job. Damn accident waitin’ to happen,” his tone is grave, but his expression is worried and achingly sincere. Joel pushes the thought from his mind and shapes up - not his little brother’s job, he can take care of himself. 

“No. I’m fine to keep workin. That’s it. We got stuff to do,” Joel says with finality, turning on his heel and promptly returning to his tasks. Tommy’s not happy about it, but he could spend all day arguing with his bullheaded brother, tiring him out more without making any headway. No, he’ll just keep a closer eye on him while they work. That’ll have to do.

—--------------------

It’s when the rain starts coming down a little after two that Tommy hits his limit. Once he notices a couple drops beginning to fall, he looks to Joel, just in time to see his brother shivering when the drops make contact with his overheated skin. That’s enough of that. Tommy stalks over to his brother, whose reaction time is significantly slowed, and Joel turns to look at him a bit dazed. 

“Alright, that’s it. Rain’s coming down, you’re shaking like a fuckin’ leaf. Go home.” It’s Tommy’s turn to remain steadfast in his convictions. Joel looks over at him with tired eyes and Tommy can’t help but soften. 

Only when a few chilled drops hit Joel’s face and neck making him colder than he’s felt all day that he concedes. “Yeah, alright.” It’s clear he doesn’t have the energy to put up a fight, especially when Tommy pats his shoulder comfortingly and he slumps a bit. Joel’s shivering again as Tommy ushers him back toward his truck. 

“We’re heading out soon as we get cleaned up anyway. How ‘bout I pick up Sarah? Just go home and get some sleep?” Tommy asks, hopeful now that his brother’s folding. 

“Okay,” he breathes out, running a hand down his face before trying in vain to rub out the pain behind his eyes. Joel stops just outside the driver’s side door and looks to Tommy to thank him. 

“‘Course. Now head home. I’ll see you in a little bit,” Tommy responds, to which Joel nods, then climbs into the truck. Tommy takes another look back to find his brother sitting in the driver’s seat gathering himself, mildly satisfied with this result 

_____________________________________________________________

For once you actually make your way to the parking lot right after school on a Friday. You're notorious for staying too late, grading, planning, or straight up yapping, but today you’d made a rookie mistake. You’d showed up to work on Day 2 of your period without checking your advil stash. Fuck. 

After a day of cramping, crabbiness, and guilty apologies after being kind of a bitch to your students a couple of times, you head to your car as soon as the bell rings. You’ll stop in the Walgreens around the corner from your neighborhood for a quick supply run, then head home to be comfortably horizontal for the remainder of this fine Friday afternoon.

—--------------------

Truth be told, Joel is relieved to be done for the day by the time Tommy makes him leave. The last of his resolve had crumbled and fallen with the first raindrops and the chill they set in his bones. He turns the heat on in his truck and settles in, letting the air warm him up and willing the pounding in his head to subside just long enough to focus on the road. A few minutes and a bout of coughing later, he finally works up the strength to drive home, only to realize he’s still horrifically unmedicated. Shit. Guess he’s stopping at the drugstore on his way home if he wants even a little relief.

—--------------------

Joel’s standing in the cold and flu aisle of his neighborhood Walgreens, sniffling miserably and squinting heavy-lidded at different cold medicine boxes in each of his hands. He remembers one particular medicine helping at least a bit more than others last time he was sick, but for the life of him he can’t remember which one it was. Dammit, he really just wants to get out of here. He’d much rather keep this cold to himself than be hacking in public, but he needs something if he’s ever gonna stop coughing long enough to get the sleep he desperately needs. 

The tiny white letters on the back of these orange and green boxes are starting to run together, and the pain behind his eyes digs its heels into his frontal lobe. He squeezes his eyes shut and curses a little louder than he realizes, triggering a coughing fit in the middle of the store. Great. Now everyone in the store knows he’s carrying a respiratory plague. He’s sniffling and feeling like a walking germ when he hears his name called.

“Joel?” you call from the end of the aisle, having heard his voice from a few lanes over. Joel turns his head to see - oh no. Jesus. Boy did he wish you weren’t the one seeing him look so gross right now. As you come closer to find him squinting under the clinical brightness of the drugstore, you get a good look at him. He looks… rough. His hair’s a bit damp, and more disheveled than usual - not the fresh, styled damp you see when he leaves the house after a shower, but a clammier mix of sweat and rain. His posture is far from the typical confidence and swagger he typically wields with each step, and is more evidently haggard. You notice his eyes first though, with dark circles and brows creased in confused exhaustion. They’re half-closed too, like he’s fighting to keep them open. 

He tries to open them wider and stand up straighter as you approach, clearing his throat to speak, but he’s coughing again before he can get a word out. He’s shaking with the force of it and you notice his shirt is damp in places as well - must have gotten caught in the rain. Just minutes ago, he’d have been uncomfortable under your scrutiny, but he’s too wrapped up in catching his breath to be embarrassed at this point. You draw nearer with pure concern in your eyes as his coughing subsides, and his resolve melts a bit more.

“Whoa, hey, you okay over there? That sounded painful,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. He notices the fretful tone in your voice — it’s gentler than his brother’s but carries the same intention. 

“Yeah, can’t say it feels great,” Joel says hoarsely before attempting to clear his throat once again, hoping his lungs will cooperate this time. “Can’t seem to remember which of these damn pills will give me a hand though.”

“Didn’t I just see you on Wednesday? When did you start feeling bad?” you ask, leaning against his side to take a closer look at one of the boxes from his hands. Maybe with some details you can help figure something out to get him feeling better, or at least let him rest.

“Last night, I guess. Came on pretty quick. Was workin’ okay this morning, but once the rain started, Tommy sent me packin’.”

“You went to work like this, Joel?! Isn’t that like, dangerous? You could really hurt yourself,” you chastise, rubbing his upper arm comfortingly while staring up at him looking utterly devastated. Christ he may melt into a puddle right here. He’s seen this look before, and though he doesn’t want you close enough to catch this, he doesn’t have the heart to shove you away like he did Tommy. He bothers to look at least a little guilty, and you sigh before continuing: “Bad idea. And you know it. Now, let’s figure this out. You’ve got the cough down for sure - what are your other symptoms?”

Before Joel can respond, he looks down into the small basket hanging over your arm and notices its contents: a box of pads, tampons, a bag of peanut M&Ms, a resealable bag of bite-sized chocolates, sour gummy worms, two different pain medications, and a box of peppermint tea. Pain relief, pads, and candy salad. Caught. This is not a conversation you want to have with Joel — men get weird about periods for some childish reason, and you’re really not in the mood. You glance down and move the basket behind you a bit, ready to brush him off and keep the conversation on him, but when you meet his eyes they’re wider and his brows are furrowed above you, drinking you in.

“You sure you’re feeling alright?,” he asks, gesturing to the contents of your little black basket. His tone mirrors the worry you’ve been bleeding since you turned onto the aisle. You’re taken aback by the question at all, given the obvious nature of today’s dilemma — one most men you know wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. His voice doesn’t waver, and his expression doesn’t falter, or express an ounce of discomfort. It’s interesting, but you’d rather not dwell on it, and laugh him off anyway.

“Oh, yeah. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before of course,” you smile and wave your hand in the air to brush off his concern, but his eyebrows inch closer to one another, and his head tilts slightly to the side. You’re the one growing warm under his perusal now, so you turn the subject back to him. “Anyway, talk to me. What’s the matter?”

Joel stares a moment longer, but begins to rattle off a list of fairly standard cold symptoms. You’re glad it isn’t anything too serious, he’ll probably just feel crappy for a couple of days while his immune system does the heavy lifting. Now to figure out what can be done to make him more comfortable in the meantime. One thing you know for certain after hearing the growing congestion in his voice and the rasp in his throat — he’s gonna need the stronger stuff. You take the boxes from his hands and return them to the shelf. He looks at you perplexed, struggling to sniffle against the congestion that — according to the pained squinting he’s still doing beneath the fluorescent lights — is giving him a hell of a sinus headache, and keeping him from breathing through his nose. Fine as he may be in a few days, at the moment he looks devastatingly uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, this crap on the shelf isn’t gonna work. Let’s get ya some of the stronger stuff,” you say, patting his shoulder before tugging him along to the pharmacy. He doesn’t ask any questions, just quietly follows your lead. Along the way, you explain the useless nature of the phenylephrine in the easy stuff, and how the good stuff requires you to show your ID. You tell him why the drugs with the pseudoephedrine are more helpful, and he nods and snuffles in understanding. Sounds good to him, he’ll let you take the lead on that one. As smart as he knows you are, he more than trusts your judgment.

You approach the counter and begin perusing the options, talking with the pharmacist about what you need, when Joel starts coughing again. You can’t help but rub his back and whisper soft words in comfort when his face twists in pain from the fit wreaking havoc in his chest. As your hand moves in soothing circles across his back, you can feel the heat of his skin through his t-shirt. Shit, he didn’t say anything about a fever. You need to get him home as soon as possible. 

When he’s composed a bit, you wrap up with the pharmacist, and she asks for your ID. You pull yours from your bag and hand it to her, but pause. Should you show her your own? Does she need to see Joel’s too?

“Oh, for sure. Uhm, do you need to see his too, since he’s the patient?” you ask, wanting to get done with this as quickly and smoothly as possible so you can get him out of here. She’s looking at the card in her hand intently and entering your information into the computer, busy with the transaction.

“No ma’am. We don’t need your husband’s ID since you’re the one purchasing,” she responds, not lifting her eyes from the computer. You blush at this, but she doesn’t seem to notice until Joel’s eyes go wide and he chokes, forcing him into another bout of harsh coughing. Jesus, his throat must be torn up. You reach for him with one hand and place your own basket and a few other sick day supplies on the counter with the other before she finalizes the transaction. 

“Thanks for all your help!,” you say a bit frantically as you begin to usher him toward the exit. You walk out of the store in silence, neither one of you looking at the other, each of you trying to keep a nervous smirk at bay. Only when the automatic doors shut behind you do you turn to look at each other and laugh heartily, extremely entertained by the pharmacist’s assumption. The laughter only ceases when it sends Joel coughing again — you need a read on that fever he’s sporting. Once he’s mostly caught his breath, you move closer and place a gentle hand on his forehead, then move it down toward his cheek. Joel closes his eyes and without realizing, leans forward into your soft touch. When your hand leaves his face, his eyes open to find that look again, and he muses that you may make him sweat before the fever gets the chance. 

“You didn’t mention this earlier. Did you know you’re running a fever, Joel?” you ask him, and he looks guilty toward the asphalt. 

“Tommy mighta mentioned somethin’ about it earlier, but I’ll be alright,” he responds, but fails to suppress a shiver when the breeze kicks up. Your heart breaks a little seeing him shaking — how did you miss that earlier? You sigh deeply before telling him you’re hesitant to let him drive home. He insists it’ll be fine, and you understand it’d be more of a hassle to come get his truck later on. You concede since it’s such a short trip back, but you’ll follow him back to your adjacent homes. 

��--------------------

After parking your car in the driveway next to his own, you meet Joel at his truck. You bat his hand away when he attempts to grab the bags from yours, and tell him to go unlock the door. Ever the gentleman, he’s a little perturbed, but follows your instructions anyway. Once you’re both inside the house, you set the items on the table and sit him down next to it before heading for the cabinet and filling a glass with water. After passing him the glass and watching as he slowly sips, you unload the bags, and begin reading the back of the box from the pharmacy. 

“Have you eaten anything today? It’s probably not a great idea to take this on an empty stomach,” you say. He goes a little green at the thought of eating anything before swallowing and huffing a response.

“No, haven’t really felt like it. Don’t think it’d sit well right now, to be honest. I’ll be alright with just the medicine, I bet.” You sigh in response, a little anxious it’ll make him feel worse, but either option could do that at this point. At least the thought of the medicine isn’t nauseating for him at the moment. You’ll let it slide, for now. 

“Fine. But you’ll definitely need to eat something substantial later,” you tell him, giving him a once-over, taking advantage of the single instance he’s below you to get a good look at him. You’re already thinking through take-out options that might help tonight. Another day, you’d make some soup for him — get him full and warm him up. Hell, tomorrow you might. But today you’re exhausted, with the period fatigue and the cramps that won’t let up, you’re definitely ready to get into some more comfy Friday Afternoon Clothes. 

“Alright, you get changed and get comfy on the couch. I’m just gonna run home and get outta these work clothes, then I’ll be right back.” 

“You’ve done plenty already today, darlin’, really. Helped me out more than you know. And I’d hate for you to catch this too,” he explains, looking guiltier than you’d like. You’re plenty aware of the risk here but at the moment you couldn’t care less. You don’t really feel like sitting by yourself in your house right now anyway. No reason both of you should feel crappy alone. 

“Uh, Joel, did you forget that we’re ‘married’ now? I’ll be back in just a minute to check on you,” you insist, smiling at him. He looks at you admonishingly and smiles back, shaking his head. You have no idea how happy that makes him — his stomach flutters at the joke, and it isn’t from his illness. You hesitate on the way out the door, and turn to check with him once again. “If having me hovering is gonna keep you up though, I can totally leave you be. I don’t want to keep you from getting the rest you need.” Your voice and expression are apprehensive, afraid to be a bother. 

He probably doesn’t still his face well enough, and he’s certain you can see desperation in his eyes when he shakes his head. He can’t tell you quite yet, but he’s over the moon you want to stick around. All semblance of nobility is dropped - having you near him could never be unwelcome. “You don’t hover, sweetheart. Nothing about you is bothersome. I’d love the company, actually,” he tells you in earnest.

Your expression settles at the reassurance, and you smile back at him. “Good. I’ll just be a few minutes,” you begin, but your smile turns to a grimace with the last few words as you feel a sharp twisting in your stomach and lower back. Your hand instinctively grips your stomach, hoping to ease the pain. There’s definitely no escaping that one. Joel’s eyes widen, but you cut him off before he can ask if you’re okay. “Yep, I'm gonna get out of these pants and into something loose before my uterus tries to kill me,” you joke, reaching for the knob. 

Joel chuckles in response but he’s frowning a bit. The look from the drugstore is back, and you don’t know what to do with his sympathy. You can’t look long before heading out. 

He hates seeing the pain you’re in, but what upsets him most is the way you brush it off. Like your pain is smaller, or insignificant by comparison — one he wouldn’t draw anyway. It sticks with him more than it probably should, but he can’t seem to shake it. He needs to act, somehow. Once he’s changed, he grabs a few blankets from the closet and the heating pad they keep around for his back and for Sarah’s own cycles. He knows how much it can help her, so he figures it couldn’t hurt to offer, at least. 

He sets up a spot on the couch for you both — a little nest for staring at the tv and, (he hopes), cozying up just a bit for extra comfort. He’s still not hungry, but he microwaves a bag of popcorn and grabs some other assorted salty snacks to join the candy you’d picked up. He’s seen how snacky you can get after school sometimes, and wants to make sure you have an array of options, prepped for any craving. 

You return as he’s placing the last of these items down on the coffee table — he’s rather proud of his little presentation — and sees your hair up and a comfy set of sweats that are just a little too long in the arms and legs. Lord help him, you look fucking adorable. He can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face when you walk toward him. 

“Well don’t you look cozy,” he says with eyes shining at your improved expression. You give him an exaggerated little twirl to show off the baggy outfit you’ve adorned yourself in for this evening’s activities. 

“Damn right! I’m ready for anything now,” you say, stuffing your hands in the pocket of your hoodie. He’s laughing in response before it catches in his throat again and he starts coughing. 

“That makes one of us,” he jokes once he’s caught his breath. 

“Yep, I want you on the couch. Right now. Go ahead and get comfy and I’ll get the medicine. We gotta get you drugged up enough if you’re gonna get any sleep.” You’re ushering him to the couch when you stop in your tracks. When you catch sight of the coffee table snacks and the heating pad set up on one side of the couch, already plugged in and waiting, you nearly tear up. You’re speechless for a moment — no one’s ever done anything like this for you before. This little thoughtful gesture means the world, and you’re not sure what to say. 

“Joel! You didn’t need to do all this. You’re sick, I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you insist, nudging his arm with your own, leaning lightly into his side. 

“Wasn’t hardly anything, darlin’, just some stuff I know helps Sarah when she gets to feelin’ like you do. She likes her snacks salty, and always feels better with this little fire hazard next to ‘er,” he says, gesturing to the heating pad on the couch. His grin turns mischievous before he starts again: “Besides, you said it yourself, we’re ‘married’ now, huh? I oughta know what my wife needs just as well,” he finishes, voice too satisfied, and eyebrows raised in jest. 

You’re giggling when you grab his hand and squeeze it, thanking him. “This goofy little bit we’re doin’ ends the second Sarah and your brother walk through the door, by the way. Not looking to scare her, that’s the last thing I wanna do,” you instruct.

“‘Course, but fuckin’ with Tommy sure woulda been fun,” he says to you, and you laugh in agreement. Once you see he’s settled, you make tea for the both of you, hoping it’ll work magic with the medicine to get him resting comfortably and — with any luck — napping before long. He’ll probably protest, but with a little coaxing, you’ll get it into him. 

When you return with the tea, he takes it from you with both hands, before using one to pull you down on the couch next to him. He’s pulled you a little closer than you may have sat yourself, and he’s pleased when you don’t pull away or readjust. You just grab the heating pad, crank it up, and stick it behind your lower back while leaning forward to grab the medicine. You check his temperature again with the back of your hand while he’s preoccupied taking the medicine you’d doled out to him. He’s a little warmer than he was outside the drug store. 

“Maybe we should get a number on that. Where do you keep your thermometer?” you ask, worry written on your face all over again. You attempt to rise from the couch to go hunting, but he grips your hand again, keeping you in place.

“Nope, nope, it’s fine sweetheart, I promise. You need to get some rest too. Sit,” he directs, his tone leaving no room for discussion. You roll your eyes, but wriggle back against the couch again before pulling a blanket into your lap. Joel fiddles with the cord of the heating pad and readjusts it behind your back, making sure it isn’t folded or sitting uncomfortably against you. You sigh in relief and fall a bit toward him as you settle in, and he inches you way as well. You arbitrarily turn on a movie you’ve both seen, fully aware neither of you will be making it to the end, and snuggle closer. The fevered heat humming beneath his skin is pleasantly warm against you as he settles deeper, and he’s slipping in and out of conversation within minutes. 

_____________________________________________________________

Sarah walks through the door with Tommy in tow while end credits roll across the tv. They head into the den to check on Joel, but conversation falls silent and they stop in their tracks at the sight they discover. You’re sleeping peacefully, legs tucked up under you and head lolled against the back of the couch. Joel’s head has somehow found its way into your lap, and he’s resting warmly on your stomach, no doubt alleviating some of the pain with his warmth and weight. Your hand rests on his shoulder, holding him securely.

Tommy’s face goes slack, but Sarah’s smiling ear to ear, and turns to her uncle, trying to quiet her laughter. He looks at her wide-eyed, but says nothing, and she holds her hand out between them, fingers curling toward her palm.

“Pay up,” she says, way too satisfied for Tommy’s liking, and far too much like her father. He rolls his eyes, and digs his wallet out of his pocket. He really thought his brother would be too chicken to do anything about this — at least for a little while longer.

[ginax0916]

hii could u do sturniolo triplets x fem reader where they treat her like one of them and toss shit at her but then they accidentally hurt her and they all panic. (maybe one of them have a secret crush on her up to u?)

★‧𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭‧★

Sturniolo Triplets x fem!bsf

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Filming a car goes wrong when a small accident happens.

Warning: Blood mentioned.

*this is gonna be just platonic so they’re just besties*

I love this request by the way, tysm! 🫶🏻

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

I’ve been friends with the triplets for longer than I can remember. They practically call me their sister now. So it isn’t unusual for me to appear in their videos. I’m usually in the vlogs just because I think they’re funner to film than car videos.

We are all currently sitting on their couch watching random videos on YouTube eating ice pops.

“Guys I’m bored” Chris says.

“Ok then what do you wanna do?” I ask.

“I don’t know but something other than whatever this is” Chris lays back on the couch sighing.

“How about we start filming the car video for Friday?” Nick says.

“But it’s literally Sunday” Matt says looking at Nick.

“Yea but we already have our Wednesday video filmed, and if we film our Friday video today we can have the rest of the week free” Nick explains.

“That’s a good idea” I say.

“Would you be in it y/n?” Matt asks.

“I’ve got nothing better to do so yea” I chuckle.

“Ok then let’s go!” Chris jumps up from the couch with a sudden outburst of energy.

-

“Look over there it’s all empty” Nick points to an empty part of the Walgreens parking lot where we chose to film.

“Ok that’s good, Chris start getting the camera ready” Matt says, driving to the spot farthest away from people.

Either way it is 12 am so there weren’t much people out anyway.

“Do we even have a topic?” I ask.

“No but we can just start speaking and see where it gets us” Nick replies.

“Do you guys want anything from Walgreens before we start?” Matt questions as he looks at Nick and I from the rearview mirror.

“Yes I want candy and a drink” Nick says.

“Me too” I say looking at Matt.

“Alright I’ll go get it” He answers while unbuckling his seat belt.

“I’ll go with you” I quickly say.

“Yea same you never get me the right candy” Chris rolls his eyes.

“Ok well I guess I have to go too now” Nick sighs.

We all got our candy and drinks except for Nick who couldn’t decide what he wanted to drink. Per usual.

“For the love of god Nick fucking choose” Chris groans.

“But there’s so many options!! I can’t do this” Nick replies grabbing his hair in frustration.

“Nick if you don’t choose something in the next 20 seconds we’re leaving” Matt sternly says.

“Oh my god look” Nick gasps.

“What” I say confused.

“They have glass bottles of coke!” Nick exclaims grabbing one from the fridge.

“Why the fuck would you want a glass bottle of coke? Just get the can” Chris comments.

“No I’m getting this. What if it tastes better in a glass bottle than in a can?” Nick questions.

“Just give me the damn thing so I can pay and go film the video for fucks sake” Matt says annoyed at his brother, as he walks to the check out.

“Mamas mad” I joke causing Chris and Nick to laugh.

-

“What the fuck is up YouTube! Welcome back to this week’s Friday video that we happen to be filming on a Sunday” Chris screams as soon as the camera starts recording, causing us all to flinch.

“Chris stop being so loud” I say grabbing his arm.

“Well we have to have a memorable intro no?” He answers, turning his body to look at me in the backseat.

“Well yea but don’t yell” I chuckle.

“Guys is it just me or did this car shrink” Nick says moving around swinging the bottle of coke in his hands.

“Nick stop you’re gonna hit me” I say shielding my face in case he does hit me.

“I hope he hits you and you break your nose” Matt says with no emotion on his face.

“Damn alright Matthew very sweet of you” I sarcastically say.

“Did you guys know that every star you see in the night sky is bigger and brighter than our sun” Chris randomly says.

“That’s not fucking true” Matt argues.

“IT IS TRUE SEARCH IT UP” Chris yells.

“Chris how many times do I have to tell you to stop screaming!” I raise my voice at him.

“Well he’s doubting my facts!” He argues back.

“Well Matt did you search it up?” Chris smirks.

“Shut up” Matt smiles.

“I told you soooo” Chris laughs.

“I finished my coke” Nick burps.

“You’re gross” I scrunch my face.

“Yea dude stop fucking burping everywhere you’re turning into Chris” Matt replies going off what I said.

“What did you say to me? I am most definitely not turning into Chris. In fact I’m better” Nick starts to argue still swinging the bottle around as he moves his arms.

“Hey! What did I do!” Chris complains.

“Oh my god” I sigh knowing they’re all about to fight.

“Oh shut up Chris sit down” Matt says in Chris’s face.

“You sit down tough guy get out of my face” Chris argues back.

“Can ya’ll just shut up please” I say rubbing my temples.

“Sorry sorry” Nick says exhaling as he rests his head on the head rest of Matt seat.

“Here I’m done with my Pepsi” Chris throws his empty can at me.

“Do I look like a trash can to you” I say annoyed.

“I’m done with my sprite too” Matt says throwing his empty spite bottle in my face.

“Oh my god why am I being attacked” I laugh.

“Wait this was from yesterday I’m done with it too” Chris adds on, throwing an empty Fanta bottle at my face again while laughing.

“That’s so gross” I laugh at him.

“Oh take this one too” Matt laughs throwing another empty soda bottle in my face which I attempt to shield.

“How dirty is your fucking car” I giggle.

“Here take mine too” Nick says throwing his glass bottle at my face, forgetting it’s glass.

“Ow Nick what the fuck that’s glass!” I raise my voice grabbing my nose as I feel a burning sensation.

“Oh shit I forgot it’s glass oh my god” Nick gasps.

“Nick why the fuck would you do that! You ok y/n?” Chris yells at Nick then turns to me.

“No not really” I quietly say trying to hold back tears.

“Lift your head up y/n” Matt softly says grabbing my chin to lift my face.

Their eyes all widen as they see blood coming out of my nose.

“Oh fuck” Chris says getting out of the car and opening the door to my side.

“Y/n im so sorry oh my god” Nick freaks out.

“Nick apologize later right now to into Walgreens and buy tissues or paper towels and some Advil for the pain. A bottle of water too” Matt says to Nick then rushing to where Chris had pulled me out of the car so I wouldn’t get blood on the seats.

“C’mere sit down and tilt your head up” Chris softly says pulling me to the ground and gently grabbing my head and tilting it back.

“I’m gonna have a panic attack I hate blood” I say as my breathing picks up and tears slowly slide down my face.

“Hey hey shh. It’s ok me and Chris are right here with you and Nick is getting some stuff to help you ok? It’s okay” Matt comforts me and pinches the bridge of my nose to help stop the flow of the blood and rubs on of my shoulder with his other hand.

“Does it hurt?” Chris asks while he rubs my knee.

“Mhm” I mumble closing my eyes.

“Here I got the stuff. Fuck I’m so so sorry please don’t die” Nick freaks out.

“Nick she’s not gonna die don’t say shit like that calm down” Chris replies.

“It’s okay Nick it was an accident I forgive you” I quietly say trying not to move my head much.

“Alright here hold that there” Matt puts some paper towels under my nose to soak the blood which was starting to become less.

“Can you swallow a pill?” Nick questions.

“Mhm” I nod.

“Open” Chris taps the side of my cheek indicating me to open my mouth, and so I do.

“Here’s water” Chris softly says, handing me water to swallow the pill he put in my mouth.

“How’s your nose sweetheart?” Matt asks, moving hair out of my face.

“It’s better and the blood stopped” I answer moving the paper towel away to see that there was no more blooding come out.

“Y/n I’m so sorry please forgive me” Nick engulfs me in a hug.

“It’s ok Nick I promise. I’m not mad it was just an accident” I say forgiving him and hugging him back.

“Alright c’mon let’s just go back home and order food and watch a movie how does that sound?” Chris asks me as he helps me up so we can all get back into the car.

“Mhm sounds good” I mumble.

“I kinda jinxed this whole situation I said I hope he hits you” Matt laughs as he starts the car.

“You really did jinx it Matt” I say.

“Guys the camera was recording the whole time” Chris points out.

“Well then this a hell of a video” Nick laughs.

⭑ ⋆ ⭑ ⋆ ⭑

Tried my best 🤗😛

[keloshe-sims]

lol hi! took a 7 month break to come back and try to make some meshes from scratch so pls have mercy ;-;

THINGS ON THE COUNTER

10 clutter objects (see image or below for whats what) search [keloshe-sims] in buy to find

Simsfileshare (Individual Files) / Patreon (Merged File)

Always freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

List of contents

Sakura shampoo

Sakura conditioner

Hydrogen peroxide

Dove men+care 2 in 1

Dentures

Denture Adhesive Cream (denture glue)

Cushion grip (denture glue)

Anusol (hemorrhoid cream)

Doctor butlers (hemorrhoid cream)

Walgreens hemorrhoidal pain relief cream (hemorrhoid cream)

Narcan

again ty for checking this out ive been playing around with blender so more is to come and its only up from here bb, here's a surprise cc lamp i made for you, for looking under the cut :p

Boxy Lamp, comes in 19 swatches!

simfileshare / patreon

inspo was from my lamp next to me then i added some designs i thought were fun!

[cjlouwho]

Prompt:

Buck thinks he and Tommy should send out a Christmas card together. Tommy agrees...Clipboard Buck appears 😆

This was fun!! Thank you ❤️

“Evan?”

“Hm?”

“Um, when I- when we agreed to send out a Christmas card together this year, I can't say I was expecting all of this.”

Their front porch was decorated top to bottom in Christmas décor. Garland and bows around the door and front windows, small trees with white lights lining the steps, fake snow sprayed onto the glass framing of the front door. There were some boxes that were wrapped perfectly too, clustered together just past the top step.

It looked absolutely beautiful.

It also looked absolutely insane.

Especially since it was September.

The idea of sending out Christmas cards came to Buck a month earlier, as he moved into Tommy's place. He was putting away some things and found Maddie, Chimney, and Jee's card from the year before. The thought of him and Tommy sending out a card of their own for everyone to see was too enticing to pass up. Plus, it was a perfect way to let distant relatives know that he was in a committed relationship with another man without having to do the whole awkward, and downright ridiculous, coming out routine.

Tommy had agreed pretty quickly. He had learned by now to always be prepared for whatever Buck threw at him next, and he found it pretty exciting to say yes to all his little ideas and suggestions that he himself would never have thought about otherwise.

What Tommy didn't account for is that a suggestion like this would not be taken lightly. Not with Buck involved.

“What do you mean?” Buck asked, eyes shooting up from the clipboard he'd been staring down at.

“I just... I thought we'd pick a selfie, from our phones,” his voice wavered when he saw the look of utter disgust come over Buck's face, “and choose a template from Walgreens...”

Buck stood there, mouth hanging open. Like he couldn't believe such a crazy idea even came out of Tommy's mouth.

“Thomas.”

Tommy sighed. The full name was never a good sign.

“Christmas cards are quite possibly the most important piece of stationary you can send out into the world.”

“So, when we send out our wedding invitations they'll be, what, number two?”

“A Christmas card tells the people within your world,” Buck continued, ignoring Tommy's question, “that the person or people you are with in that card is who matters the most to you.”

Tommy crossed his arms over his chest, nodding. “Right, but Evan, Babe,” he smiled, moving closer, hoping to cut the tension he had created, “I'm pretty sure most people toss their Christmas cards like, as soon as they get them, or the day after Christmas.”

Buck shook his head. He lifted some papers from his clipboard and pulled out a sheet that he handed to Tommy. “Not this one. Ours is going to be made from botanical paper,” he said, pointing down at one of the options on the paper. “They'll plant it somewhere around their house or in a pot or something and from our love, plants will grow!” He smiled brightly as he finished his explanation, eyes wide and filled with excitement.

Tommy couldn't help himself. Buck was so cute when he got this way. There wasn't a piece of Tommy that ever wanted to dull Evan's happiness from even the smallest things in life. He leaned forward and gave Buck a gentle peck on the lips. “That's adorable,” he said, handing the paper back to Buck, “and very sweet.”

“I, uh, I think so too.” A blush rose on Buck's cheeks. Even after all these months together, he still got butterflies in his stomach when Tommy kissed him or was on board with one of his plans.

The thing was, Buck knew that he could be a lot to deal with sometimes. He knew people got frustrated when he had a clipboard in his hands. He knew he could get obsessive and overdo it. And, while Tommy may sometimes suggest simpler options (which were obviously wrong and insane), he never made fun of Buck or belittled him. Buck never had to worry about being too much with Tommy, and that was such a freeing feeling.

“Now!” Buck rocked up on his tippy toes, getting back to his list. “We've got our first photographer coming in half an hour. Our next one comes at one. Then we've got to wait until four for the last one, so you'll have to change out of your outfit or put on a robe or something so you don't spill.”

“We... We've got three photographers coming?”

Buck nodded, double checking his list. “Yes. Uh, three today, two tomorrow.”

“So five then? Five photographers coming?”

“Correct.”

“Evan, honey,” Tommy placed his hands on Buck's biceps, pulling his attention from the clipboard yet again. “Why exactly do we have five photographers coming?”

“To make sure we get the best photos?” Buck replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right... Right, okay. Alright, well, you just tell me what to do and when to do it and I will be there.”

Buck leaned in this time, a hand placed at the nape of Tommy's neck, and kissed him. “First,” he said once he pulled away, “I've gotta go get the house ready for the dog. He'll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay,” Tommy agreed. Buck was already back in the house when his words sunk in. “Wait! Dog?!” Tommy called out, “Evan, we don't have a dog!”

“We do today!”

[strip4kaneshiro]

Gabriel Reyes is such a good concept as a character and a love interest, so have more headcanons because I’ve had such a good day today 😛

Reaper who sneaks around Talon HQ in order to find you everyday. No matter if it makes him late to team meetings or not

If you aren’t dating by this point, he excuses it by saying “ Moira/Widow/Doomfist was looking for you earlier. Don’t get your ego boosted..”

Ik lots of other people already say this but it’s such a good concept, he definitely moved you out of harms way

Being put on a dangerous mission? Suddenly your name comes straight off the list and he goes instead. A certain lackey is talking about how you need to be “taught a lesson for sucking up to him” ? They get taught a lesson instead ❤️

Oh boy! A secret admirer!! I sure hope it isn’t your emotionally constipated supersoldier coworker who spends a lot of the company card at Walgreens !!

On a more serious note, getting into a relationship him makes his silly simp behavior that much funnier

He won’t tell you, but if you ever see him sitting down and doing some office work, he secretly yearns for you to sit in his lap (he wraps one of those big ass super soldier arms around you)

Gabriel, who after somewhat unwinding his vigilante persona, becomes the most protective, caring version of himself.

When the mask comes off, his need to touch you activates. Cannot keep his hands to himself

Obviously he isn’t as relaxed as he used to be, so expect some average Reaperesque grumbling if your too clingy (ironic, it’s okay if he’s clingy, but for you it’s a problem 😒)

Sitting at home on the couch with him includes his oddly hilarious commentary to your favorite reality shows

“ Pinche tú madre… she knows he’s no good for her. Why do you watch this stupid shit”

Later that evening, after a shower, you see that the rest of the season is finished on Netflix

Never forgets the small things you say. You liked a certain food at a resturaunt? He makes sure that resturaunt stays open (it becomes the “graveyard” where he sends people that are picking on you in the name of “spying on the enemy”)

You like iced coffee or bubble tea? He memorized your orders, even going as far as to keeping either a digital log or physical log, even both. (Sombra found the digital copy, it’s six pages in Microsoft word that goes into extensive detail of your preferences)

Speaking of food, he takes food allergies very serious.

He knows how it feels to be medically predisposed to issues, he never wants anyone to have their body malfunction if he can help it.

Beside his better judgement, he meets with Moira to see what can be done to get rid of food allergies. Then promptly leaves as she lists side effects.

If you aren’t interested in getting rid of them, he talks with the kitchen staff and tries limiting the amount depending on your allergy. Allergic to fish? No more grilled salmon. Allergic to shellfish? Shrimp Tacos immediately get discontinued. Lactose intolerant/Dairy Allergic? All of the dairy is to be replaced with alternatives immediately

I’ve been yapping too long, someone pls give me a fix idea

[genderkoolaid]

On April 27, 2023, an armed security guard shot and killed a Black trans man named Banko Brown outside of a San Francisco Walgreens. Brown’s killing sparked outrage. But San Francisco District Attorney Brooke Jenkins decided not to charge the security guard who shot him, saying that he acted in self-defense. And just last Friday, Attorney General Rob Bonta’s office announced that it supported that decision.  This announcement has crushed Banko Brown’s loved ones, including those who say that his killing was an example of the conditions that unhoused transgender people face in San Francisco. KQED reporter Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez sits down with Brown’s chosen family, to discuss life as a homeless queer person in San Francisco, and Banko’s life before his death. [...]

Kazani Kalani Finao: [...] We just had amazing, great conversations. Just always sparring with each other, bouncing back with, like, fun ideas. He uses a bright, outgoing apartment. Conversation was always immaculate, always amazing. Of he was a visionary. The struggle not only brought us together, but like I was able to, like, really build a relation with him based on, like, his gifts. He was very creative, his swag, his drip, like he was a trendsetter to me. He’s definitely inspirational to me to like, you know, him, me younger to me, like I always share with him. Like, bro, you give me so much confidence, you give me so much courage for me to be me. He didn’t even know it. But again, he was just natural at that. Whatever I remember of him is his drips, sauce, smile, hugs, goofiness. [...]

Xavier Davenport: Banko never had a space of his own. Banko had been in and out of shelter, in and out of people’s homes, sometimes even some people’s own [SROs]. So let’s really break down what that really looks like when you are living in a one room space with another individual. You do not have privacy. Nine times out of ten, being a transmasculine identif[ied] person, especially being black, you have to render some type of services to stay there, whether it be sexual, whether it be drugs. So when we talk about black men and being fetishized, Banko dealt with a lot of that. And so those people would be the people to take him in. [...]

Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: And can we talk a little bit about Banko in terms of the safety? You know, obviously Banko went through the least safe thing you could imagine with the most terrible outcome you can imagine. What was Banko experiencing in terms of safety during this whole process? Xavier Davenport: Banko was actually experiencing a lot of issues with violence happening in some of the places that he was trying to stay at. Nobody’s perfect, you know, especially when we’re talking about community, right? People have all kinds of issues and trauma that they are that they’re trying to live through as well. I definitely know that there were a few times where, you know, he was upset from violent experiences that had taken place. And what we all do, right, we get upset, we want to do something about it. So, you know, really trying to calm him down to, like, see a different side of it, for him to just move through the trauma that he was experiencing. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: Yeah. And I don’t know how much you all followed kind of the public discussion of what happened to Banko afterwards. A lot of what I heard was a kind of a questioning of like, what did [Banko]’s trans identity or black trans identity have to do with the shooting, especially when the security guard themselves was was black. I wonder if you could talk a bit about for people who don’t understand what does [Banko]’s black trans identity have to do with what brought him there that day and what happened? [...] Xavier Davenport: [...] What what that all has to do with is when you are a young, black, transmasculine identified person, people see that he walks in, he’s dark skinned, he has a hat on a t shirt, he has a little bit of a, like a goatee or, you know, something growing in. And as another black man or being another man, there is a fight for power for who is the man. [F]or Banko, you know, the thought process is, you look like a little boy or you’re trying to pretend to be a little boy. Because let’s be clear, Banko had not had, you know, top surgery. He had not been going through that part of of medical transitioning. So you have a masculine person with visible breast coming at you. You are going to now struggle for your manhood. I’m going to show you who’s boss is something that for people that are even lesbians who are more masculine looking, [t]here is a struggle between men and any form of masculinity that they can see to them isn’t necessarily real. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: So it’s a it’s like a challenge. Xavier Davenport: It is a challenge. It very much is a challenge. I know this first experience. I have dealt with this my entire life. JuJu Pikes-Prince: And if I can just highlight that it’s true. And these are cases that’s not getting covered [...] of Black Trans Men getting killed. [...]

Xavier Davenport: [...] I would say what needs to change is the systems in how they construct homelessness. There needs to be shelters specific for transmasculine folks. There needs to be shelters for trans people, period. But trans men need their own space. There needs to be more black, trans masculine leaders. There’s nobody else that can speak about black transness except for black trans people. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: And how about the joy? What is your joy look like right now? Xavier Davenport: My joy looks like, you know, the rest of the work that I do. The Bay Area Transmasculine calendar is doing a second premiere of a calendar that we started last year with a group of Transmasculine folks to continue to ensure that Transmasculine folks are seen and can receive joy in seeing and having representation of themselves in all bodies, in all forms of trans masculine bodies, and in all forms of trans masculine and different cultures and ethnicities. Joe Fitzgerald Rodriguez: That’s beautiful. JuJu Pikes-Prince: [F]iguring out the funding, figuring out where money can go to. I definitely believe that there should be more programs for black trans men, even from our community. My [femme queens, my dolls]. We need to serve our [kings], our [trans kings.] [Sorry], I’m getting emotional. And it’s because I’m thinking about the joy part. [L]iving and finding purpose. Picking up someone else’s purpose when they couldn’t find their purpose. And knowing that I’m here and I can also at least set some type of story for someone [...] and hopefully help another next person, next generation to continue to do this advocacy work.

[habaritess]

Is Claire Bear one of the villains of The Bear? Part 2

Here is Part 1.

We get another sign of Claire detachment when she and Carmy are talking after the mail drop. She talks about hanging out as kids, doing things together, and shoplifting. Carmy is completely caught off guard by this as Claire nonchalantly talks about stealing from walgreens many times. The potential harm in her actions once again goes unnoticed by Claire, and even Carmy openly expresses how that isn’t right. But Claire just doubles down on it and calls it thrilling, expressing no remorse for her actions. What's interesting is that we later meet an eccentric guy from their past name Kyle, who also shares a similar sentiment to stealing as Claire. Might be a stretch, but I believe this scene was place there for us as the viewers to juxtapose Claire and Kyle because despite them being two very different people in appearance and behavior, they share the same neurotic viewpoint and are thus, people meant to be avoided.

The car scene continues with Claire confirming to Carmy how she “observed” him drawing at his desk since she sat behind him, something even he didn’t recall. One of the interesting things to note about this conversation was Claire admitting how they never really talked, and that she wished she knew why he was drawing. Carmy than tells Claire he wished she talked to him more. Carmy had no friends and was a loner who drew at his desk to help pass the time. Claire saw that and chose not to socially engage with him. This fact she is trying to deny. Claire tries to turn that around and say that she tried but he was too shy. From this conversation, I got the feeling that Claire was trying to create an untrue picture of their childhood together to make her appear better to Carmy. Claire was the pretty popular girl with tons of friends who didn’t give Carmy the time of day when they were younger. She could have talked to him but didn’t, and Carmy put the onus on her for not doing so, after Claire pointed out at the beginning of the conversation that they’ve never really talked.

Claire did not expect Carmy to do this. She wanted to create a fictional viewpoint for Carmy that showed her in a better light than what she really was, that she was always interested in getting to know him, but he was too shy. Carmy eventually puts some blame on himself by admitting she did have a lot of friends( and thus intimidated), so these manipulations in the memories are working. I believe this is what helped shape Carmy's view of Claire in future episodes, especially the ones in season 3 where he has this romanticized view of her. Claire then mentions a party that she wants to go to, and Carmy becomes visibly uncomfortable about the idea. Seeing the discomfort, Claire then guilt trips him to going by telling him that he owes her now for taking him for this ride.

Now, some could argue that Carmy did wrong first that day by changing their plans to hang out and taking a trip to the post office, a place Claire obviously didn’t want to go, so Carmy should deal with going to a party. But people should not forget that Claire has been pulling the strings since she got his number and Carmy never wanted to go out with Claire in the first place. Carmy was using their hang out time to do something useful, but he was also trying to get to know Claire, which their hang out time would have been mainly about anyways. Carmy also did not guilt trip Claire into this, as Claire always does to Carmy. If she didn’t want to go, he would not have told her “ you owe me for helping you move”. He would have just accepted it.

The manipulation doesn’t end there. They are both at the party. Claire promises 15 minutes tops, and they end up staying there all the way until the party ends. There is a scene where Carmy checks in on Claire and on first watch, I thought he was staring at her to admire her, but we all know how Carmy looks when he is in awe of of a person( how he stares at Sydney when they first met, when she returns, when they are physically close to each other) and that wasn’t the expression on his face. Dude was getting impatient and wanting to leave, but felt that he couldn’t say anything since Claire was still comforting her friend.

Claire sees Carmy staring and she continues to “comforting her friend” trying to make it obvious that she isn’t ready to leave. Carmy is then distracted by men who mistook him for someone else, and here Claire is happy to see a more extroverted Carmy. When they get settled down, Claire once again throws the fake number in Carmy face. I strongly believe that Claire knew that Carmy didn’t enjoy himself at the party. He was just making conversation. She wanted to make sure their night didn't stop at this party, so she once again guilt trips him about the fake number.

Claire asks him this out of the blue, suddenly becoming serious, and stares at him with puppy dog eyes. She askes him this as if she is asking "why would you do this to me?" Carmy falls for it every time, and he goes for appeasement to avoid answering the question, instead telling her how much he “likes” her. Claire than goes for the seduction route, and openly makes her move on him.  Carmy knows what she is implying when she reaches out to touch him, and you can see the uncertainty on his face when she confronts him with it.

I feel strongly that Carmy would have ended the day sooner with Claire, rather than spend the rest of the day with her, had she not made her intentions of spending the night with him so obvious. When they get to Claire's vehicle, Carmy makes the choice to take Claire to his restaurant, but really observe his face during this. After Claire tells Carmy that her friend found another boyfriend and they are standing on either side of her car, Claire looks at Carmy expectantly. She doesn’t want the night to end and Carmy easily reads that on her face. He then reluctantly suggests going to the restaurant. Note how Carmy moves with Claire always involves the restaurant. It is always a matter of convenience for him.  Now really look at this scene tho. Carmy is guaranteed a booty call staying with Claire tonight and yet, his face as he suggests the restaurant and she agrees, is nothing but dissatisfaction. There is no excitement in those eyes, he is still trying to appease her.

Even with her promise of sexual activities, he wasn’t enthusiastic about it. He is mechanically doing what is expected of a guy that “likes” a girl, something he's been telling her to get him off his back on the fake number, but now he has to prove it. When she agrees to go, his face is one of disappointment.

Carmy takes Claire to the restaurant to have their first kiss. At this point, he accepts what is about to happen and chooses to do so in a place I strongly believed he imagined his first kiss with Sydney would be in. It’s one of the ways Carmy mentally deals with being with Claire is just trying to put Claire in Sydney’s place. Even with the kiss, it’s Claire who moves forward first as Carmy follows her lead. He even speaks his true feelings out loud when he repeats what Claire just said to him “very fast”, that they are moving way too fast.

If it wasn’t for Fak interrupting them, the kiss would have been terrible on Carmy’s part, because you can tell he just wasn’t into it. But Fak’s interruptions actually gave him confidence, because Fak tells him how Claire is just THE best, which he agrees, then Fak informs Carmy that he is great too. It’s just the boost the guy needed, and he was able to proceed with a very passionate kiss afterwards.

In episode 8, we get to the next day after they had sex for the first time, and you would think being able to score would have a guy feeling great… but Carmy is not feeling great at all. First sign is how he left Claire alone in bed early morning. She doesn’t get the satisfaction of waking up next to him. She wakes up alone in bed and has to find him brooding on a kitchen counter. Before Claire is up, we see Carmy fiddling with his hands. I believe his mind is on Sydney, since the episode opens up with what she was doing at this moment.

Try as Carmy might, Carmy could not wake up happy with Claire by his side. Whatever happened last night, did not leave the man feeling good( and when you think about it, of course it wouldn’t since he never wanted this in the first place). When Claire gets to him, Carmy is staring off into space and even she knows something is wrong with him. We later learned that Carmy had a panic attack last night about his mother driving her car into the house. What made sleeping with Claire bring up all these bad memories? I will get to that soon.

So at this point, Carmy is still doing what Claire wants. He knows she wants to be romantically involved with him, and he engages with her. But Carmy does not view what occurs as something HE wants. Claire is the “friend” who wants a physical relationship and he feels obligated to do so because he “wronged” her. This is all for her and not him. So when Sydney calls Claire his girlfriend, he bulks at that. “Girlfriend? You think?” He later on vehemently denies it again when Sydney brings it up because whats going on between them just isn’t that. He knows it’s not that. What he has with Claire doesn’t feel “good” and girlfriends are supposed to be a good thing. Then Sydney, unaware of how their relationship started, implies that him not clarifying what they are looks bad on him, and the poor dude is horrified and confused. He doesn’t want to be viewed as “shitty”, especially not to Sydney, but we the viewers know that Carmy isn’t using Claire for her body, even though he could have. It was obvious to Carmy what Claire intentions were from the beginning and he purposely chose not to pursue even though she would have been an easy lay. But Sydney calling his actions potentially shitty made him question his own actions up to this point and WHY he was with Claire in the first place. He is so confused he looks for another perspective of this and asks Faks if Claire is his girlfriend. This showcases Carmy innocence and lack of experience and why he is so easy to groom in this case. When speaking with Faks on this, he asks if he needs to ask Claire if she is his girlfriend and Faks doesn’t like the way he worded it. Carmy original framing of this question is the exact kind of dynamic they have because his input is not needed, he is still doing what she wants so what she says goes.

Unfortunately, in his confusion and trying to avoid being a shit person, he confirms with Claire that they are boyfriend and girlfriend.

Or at least, he tries to tell himself that. Dude is trying to be happy with Claire and tries to treat Claire how he would have treated Sydney, the person he was actually trying to be with. He makes Claire fresh pasta, something he was probably going to treat Sydney to after their conversation in episode 2. Claire responds with a kiss and they make love once again.

I used to believe that the rapid heart rate and the panic attacks Carmy had with Claire was due to her connection with his past, but now I strongly believe it is mostly due to Claire’s actions. Carmy doesn’t want to be with Claire, but he forces himself to because of Claire purposeful manipulations of a traumatized man. He feels like he owes her and he gives her what she wants every time, but doing so is traumatic for him. He can’t help it. His mind is trying to convince himself that he want this, but his body reacts to the truth. Being with Claire is like living with his mother. He had to do what Donna wants to manage her and her chaotic nature. There is no getting through to his mom when she in that state, so the only way to avoid escalation is to do whatever she wants when she wants it.

When you are use to living in this state of constant appeasement, like how Carmy had to do with his mother, it is very easy to fall back to those toxic habits when dealing with other people. It's hard for them to realize that what they want matters. He fell back into it with Chef David, taking his abuse. He fell back into it with Claire. He is just a ball of stress and anxiety as he tries to make Claire happy while ignoring what he truly wants. He wants Syd so he tries to put Sydney into Claire as a coping mechanism. He makes her the food he would have made Syd. He was rewarded for his efforts by Claire sleeping with him, but instead of it being a great thing, he gets an even bigger panic attack the next day as his feelings toward Claire becomes more and more intertwined with how he always felt living with his mother. It’s toxic and Carmey slowly starts to realize that after his panic attack in episode 9, and the only way to calm him down was thoughts of Sydney, who he truly wanted to be with.

You can see him starting to accept it. The dude was planning on breaking up with her. He begins ignoring her calls. He tells Sydney that she will have his full focus. Unfortunately, after Claire runs off after overhearing his grievances of wasting his time with “pleasure” rather than focusing on the restaurant and being their for Sydney, Carmy listens to the voice message that Claire sent to him. The sweet message, plus her confession of love, tears him apart, and he is once again racked with guilt over Claire.

We see in season 3, Carmy closes himself emotionally in order to build up the perfect restaurant, and he refuses to make up with Claire as a result. His avoidance of her and his refusal to address what happened between them, does the opposite effect, and now he can’t stop thinking of her. Memories of Claire are seen through a rosy retrospection. She becomes something to him that she never was… “peace.” Even through his Claire obsession, we get a flashback in episode 4 where Carmy is making out with Claire and Claire notices that Carmy's heart is beating fast.

When Carmy is with Claire, he is not at peace. He is in constant fight or flight mode. Even when something good is happening with Claire, he can never truly settle down with her. He can’t because their relationship started on a manipulative basis. Any romance he had with Claire is tainted by that reality. This is why we never see Carmy at peace when dealing with Claire. This is why sleeping with her results in panic attacks. This is why he isn’t happy waking up next to Claire in bed. Being with Claire to Carmy is like being with his mother… but the show avoids making obvious parallels between them. Claire is toxic, but not in the same way as his mother. She isn’t angry, yelling, throwing things, or cursing. Claire is the kind of toxic that is unassuming, hidden securely behind a reassuring smile while making a person feel like they are the worst kind of person. She does so with an air of innocence that fools everyone around her.

If I’m correct in Claire being one of the villains of the Bear, I believe that when Carmy finally decides to talk with Claire again, Carmy will confront why being with Claire always felt so bad. I find it hard to believe that they would have Carmy so panicky around her for no reason if Claire wasn’t intended to be another negative person in his life.

[lovelaurs]

...any chance you could do mystreet travis x reader where they get overwhelmed and he helps them?? Just some fluff for the fluffy guy :3 ty

Remember. Your. Water.

TAKING YOUR TIME

pairing : mystreet travis x gn reader synopsis : it was long day filled with stress, and you come home absolutely riddled with anxiety. luckily, your boyfriend travis is there to comfort you through it as you're overwhelmed by life. tags : comfort, fluff, reassurance, slight romance, but more focused on support than anything word count : 0.9k a/n : i was so excited to write this one since mystreet travis (the one i have rotated so many times in my brain) was my favorite back in middle school! i took inspiration from how my life was in college and how my anxiety slowly got worse, so hopefully that works for realism! i love using my own pain in writing!! also, i made sure to make him really endearing, so i hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

It had been a long day.

As you closed the car door behind you, you could feel your arms ache, causing you to stretch them as you walked towards the front door.

You’d think after such a hard day that you’d come home to complete relaxation, letting your mind take a break as you slump on the couch.

But unfortunately, it seemed that wouldn’t be the case.

As you opened the door, you were greeted with the reminder that you still had several chores to do.

Since you lived alone, you set up your own reminder system to help you remember to do chores.

And unfortunately, this was one of those days.

It had been about a week since you vacuumed, and practically two weeks since you dusted, and that doesn’t even begin with your laundry as well!

You got this.

You groaned as you took off your shoes by the door, hanging your coat up on the rack next to you before moving to the kitchen to grab a snack before you started cleaning up.

That was when you noticed the sink.

Your dishwasher had broken about a week ago, letting countless dishes and utensils pile up within the basin. 

Hiring a repairman? Washing the dishes? Just two more things to add to your already dreadful day. You didn’t have time for a snack just yet.

You could feel your head already begin to bubble up with thoughts, starting to overthink everything you had to do as you approached the storage closet.

Just breathe. You can do this.

You took a deep breath in, your shoulders rising and falling along with you.

As you grabbed the handle of your vacuum, ready to begin cleaning, your bad luck seemed to double.

The handle broke off. As soon as you grabbed it, the cheap piece of plastic simply popped off without hesitation.

That was it.

You couldn’t help what happened next.

Within seconds, you fell to the floor, curling up into a ball with your face in your hands, bawling.

Irene oh why did life have to test you so.

Your cries were muffled by your legs as you folded up, pulling at your hair. You couldn’t deal with all of this right now. First you were running around outside getting groceries and your medication from Walgreens, the next you came home to everything being out of order?

Everything was against you.

At some point, you couldn’t even tell just how long you were sitting on the ground until the doorbell rang.

Apparently, life decided to make things even worse by having someone wait at your door.

Great.

Just great.

Your legs shaked as you slowly stood up, wiping the tears from your cheeks, hoping whoever was there wouldn’t notice.

After making your way to the door, your shaking hands slowly opened it, revealing a smiley Travis with a plastic bag in his hands.

His grin was almost as blinding as the rays of sun behind him.

“Hey! I thought I’d stop by to see how my Lovely was doing-” He stopped mid-sentence as he processed your disheveled appearance, a frown quickly growing on his face. “What’s wrong?” You tried to keep yourself in check, holding back your tears, but the worried look on his face? Nothing could hold you back anymore.

You sniffled once before rushing in to hug him, tightly squeezing, surprising the man.

As you stuffed your face into his chest, hiding your face from him, he slowly led you inside your house, closing the door behind him before the two of you sat on your couch.

You groaned into his chest, just letting your tears fall freely as he held you close. He played with your hair, carefully moving it out of your face and tucking it behind your ear, before patting your head while softly shushing you.

The two of you just sat there for a while, allowing you to release all your anger and anxiety through your tears as he hugged you.

Your boyfriend always was the best at comforting you when you needed it most.

As it seemed your tears were stopping, and you were left hiccuping, you moved back to look up at Travis, apologizing rapidly.

“Hey, hey, there’s no need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He slowly rubbed your back as he softly spoke. “Do you think you can tell me what’s bothering you?” You slowly nodded as you began to tell him all about what happened today, and how your anxiety was through the roof with it all. You felt like you were losing your mind.

He hummed as you recounted the events prior to your crying.

“I can help you out with it all if you’d like, we can face it all together!” He smiled as pumped his fist into the air, before kissing you on the forehead. “You know you can always just reach out if you need help, alright? I’ll always be here.”

You nodded with a smile. He was right, you had someone in your life who cared about you, someone to rely on. You can’t forget that. 

But you couldn’t help but slowly turn to the plastic bag sitting next to Travis' curiosity. What was in it?

He picked it up, opening it to show you the abundance of snacks he had brought along with him.

“A little bunch of presents I decided to get you during the day.” He chuckled, cupping your face in his palm, letting his thumb trace the tear stains on your cheeks.

“But before we get started on those chores, how about a snack, okay?”

@lovelaurs, 2024. do not repost this work in any way!

[hellinistical]

Minors dni. Reblogs highly appreciated.

Tw: cannibalism, fingering, oral (fem receiving), non-con, sub-reader, afab reader, stalking, kidnapping, blood, descriptive body horror, unprotected sex,

gojo, sukuna, childe, rafayel, xavier, knives.

Wc: 2.8k

He didn't mean to stalk you.

He didn't intend for it to go this far.

But he definitely didn't want to stop.

Behind the bushes in front of your window, he watched.

Watched you clean. Watched you eat. Watched you sleep.

What a pretty thing.

His fingers curled around the Japanese knife in his hand, but he took a deep breath, goosebumps rising on his skin as he imagined it all: First, the knife in his hands would glide through the skin on your cheeks, right by your lips. He'd give you a kiss and a permanent smile, digging his thumbs into the raw dermis. He'd take the two pieces and taste them. Would it be warm and savory? Maybe a bit tangy? The blood would surely be. Maybe he'd take a strip from your thighs next. The fatty areas would surely be delicious. But no, he wanted this to last longer, see where it went.

⁛⁛⁛

He saw you again- at the Walgreens this time.

He knew when you went to pick up your prescription- the one for the migraines. The anxiety. So he grabbed a job. Just as a cashier, nothing big, nothing special. Just enough to make small talk.

Though you'd usually only come for your medication, sometimes you'd grab yourself a treat. Press ons, the ones with the French tips. Maybe just for a day, for a party. Chocolate, the one with the hazelnuts. Never minded which brand it was, so long as it satiated that sweet tooth.

He remembered the thought he had that first day, when he imagined you. Bare, splayed out in the table, his hands in your blood, a toothpick in his mouth.

He wondered if you'd be as sweet as the chocolate you bought.

⁛⁛⁛

When you spoke to him the first time, it was with a sympathizing tone. Did he make up a sob story for the masses? Was it highly unlikely? Yeah, but he was just a stranger, so who cared? You gave him the benefit of doubt, and he bathed his mind in it.

You leaned in closer, only to read his name tag really, but he made his move anyways, pulling you into a little dip, as if he were wanting a dance. And he did. But the way his name rolled off your tongue, he needed it.

That was what he got this job for.

So he quit the very next day.

⁛⁛⁛

You asked him out. A small date, just to the movies. He found out you liked horror.

He remembered it.

⁛⁛⁛

You've been feeling…off lately. Like you were being watched, even in the bathroom. Your anxiety rose, and so did your stress.

So did your migraines.

⁛⁛⁛

You were running. Just a morning jog, something to clear your mind. But your adrenaline was pumping. You couldn't think straight.

The feeling- that stupid feeling that you were being watched! It crawled up your legs, your chest, gripling your heart before it got to your brain.

Then it was dark.

⁛⁛⁛

How did you get here, with your fingertips begging for clearance on the edges of the protruding, crumbling brick wall? With stale air, heavy with a metallic scent?

His breath was hot on your skin, trailing up your neck to your jaw to your ear. His right hand rested under your breast, the left on your hip, holding your backside against his pelvis.

"Pretty thing, what do you want?"

His voice was teasing, the hand on your hip now playing with your waistband, his cold fingers threatening to dip past the fabric, to graze your probably more-than-warm skin.

Your grip falters, but before your chin can scrape against the brick, his hand is on your throat. He catches you lightly, the pads of his thumb, index, and middle squeezing your skin gently.

A dry chuckle leaves his lips, the hand under your breast moving to your ass.

"Little love,"

You know to stay quiet, that if you were to even swallow hard his grip would tighten.

Goosebumps litter your skin, and you feel an odd thrill from it all; the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you still your body, your vision hazy but the knife on the table is still very much within his reach.

His hair is soft as it brushes against your shoulder when he leans over. Lips pressed to your skin, they whisper silent promises, not threats. A hand pulls on the waistband of your underwear, and it’s promptly pulled down, a harsh smack landing on your ass. You bite back a yelp, humiliation stinging as tears prick at your eyes. He chuckles, groping the fatty flesh for a moment before resting his hand on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin.

“And to think you tried to run- although I suppose praise is in order…you managed to surprise me.”

You feel something. Something cool and wet and gliding down your backside; spit. It goes down the curve of your butt, but he takes his hand, smearing it down to your folds, his thumb pushing past for a mere second before pulling away. He licked his thumb, and an airy laugh left his lips. His thumbs move down to your hips, pressing into the dips as he leans onto you, pushing your stomach into the bricks even more. It hurts, your chin is probably scratched, and you're cold, but damn it, you don't feel shame as you feel your knees shake in anticipation.

“You know, I didn’t expect you to actually believe that I was the pizza guy. Then again, I suppose having the prop did help. But still, you didn’t even question why the box wasn’t warm. Say…”

His voice trailed off as he pulled you away from the wall. Turning you over onto your back, he grabbed your chin softly, a faux kind smile on his face.

“You seem pretty flushed out, Y/n. You got goosebumps all over you.”

Taking your wrists with one hand, he guided you to the table, sliding the knife carelessly off of it as he laid you down on it.

"I wonder- and you can speak this time baby, I won't do anything, promise… I wonder if you're actually enjoying my touch. Maybe not the situation- I'd hope not the situation cause then you'd be a little fucked up- but maybe the touches." He giggles again, and you feel your stomach churn.

"I'm not fucked up."

"Oh? So you like my touches then?"

"I didn't say that."

It's like he can't stop laughing, and it seems mocking as he gets onto the table halfway, hovering over you.

He leans close to your face, close enough that you can see all the small blemishes on his cheeks.

"You didn't need to. I can feel it."

As if to prove a point, his hand goes to your thighs, sliding to your labia. Your legs instantly close around his wrist, thighs clamping down. He disregards it though, instead just pressing a kiss to your lips swiftly as he pushes two fingers into you to the knuckle. He swallows your gasp, the hand that was supporting his weight sneaking behind your neck, pushing you deeper into the kiss, the two fingers in you making a scissor motion widely, slowly.

Your eyes couldn't get any wider, truly. It was comical, how he managed to do just what he imagined: get you splayed out, bare and ready.

Though his appetite was gone, another one was readily introduced, and he gladly welcomed it.

He leans to kiss you again and you turn your head away, but he chases your lips anyways taking one, two, three kisses from you. He pulls his fingers out of you, disregarding the involuntary whine that left you as he licked his hand clean again.

You try to clamp your legs shut for good this time, but he forces them open, cupping your heat, pushing his palm where your clit was.

You all but hiss, back arching off the table before he pressed his free hand into your stomach, pushing you back down into the wood.

Your skin was ridiculously soft, and he thought about just how truly thin the layers of the skin were…. Why if he could just-

No, he couldn't. He needed to save this.

Instead, he nips at your neck, exhaling slowly.

"You know, I've been watching you- you probably knew that, right? You're a smart girl. I know; I've seen you study. You work hard, it's admirable. A shame there won't be any more of that."

His pinky and thumb separate your lips, and he pressed his index and middle finger in, not waiting for a response.

You didn't notice it till now: his skin was oddly cool, a stark contrast from your hot skin.

Mouth falling open, you inhale sharply, refusing to cry, to give him a sense of what you think would give him satisfaction.

His fingers go at a leisurely pace again, curling occasionally, searching, searching…ah, there it was. That spot.

He grins into the crook of your neck as he feels you tense up.

"That easy, huh?"

He doesn't allow you to talk, too busy abusing your cunt. Feeling the drool slide down the corner of your mouth to his cheek, he giggles again- that damned giggle.

You reach for any purchase, anything but him. Wincing as splinters dig into the skin of your hands, you don't ignore the pain, wanting the distraction from the man above you. Your heart beats faster, and he hears it, taking it as an opportunity to have the hand on your cunt move to rub up and down your slit.

Your lips part, your eyebrows try to meet. It was too many sensations; the fear of what was happening, the pain from the wood digging into your skin, the pleasure from the unwanted persistence of him. And that smile he wore.

There was something unnatural about it.

But whether you were more scared of him or the fact that you were enjoying this…that was what terrified you. Maybe you were fucked up.

But something surprising happened.

He stopped. You stopped.

"If you want me to stop, all ya gotta do is say so."

His hand almost retreats before you protest.

⁛⁛⁛

It's the first good look he has at your cunt. It's glistening, and pretty, and that feeling of hunger rises again. He salivated.

Swallowing thickly, he pushes himself off the table, opting to wrap his arms around your thighs, pulling you to the edge, bringing your legs to his shoulders. He bites your thigh, pressing his nose into it. The smell is dizzying. Sweat, arousal, and something else he can't quite name. But he loves it all the same.

His attention goes back to your pussy, and he levels with it, hot breath fanning over your folds.

Again you pull back, and again you're pulled back.

A low moan vibrates through him, almost muffled as he presses his tongue flat, licking a long stripe between your folds to your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves. You try your best to be quiet, small whimpers and pleas escaping every now and then. It spurs him on, his tongue curious, messy as spit and juices mix, the sounds coming from the combination disgustingly hot. Your walls clamped down onto his tongue, and his eyes rolled back.

He knew to save you.

His mouth wraps around your more than puffy clit, and as if he were making out with it, he sucks it hard before releasing it with a delightful pop, only to grab it with his teeth, biting gently. And again he brings his fingers, burying them again into you. A chuckle escapes him as you spew obscenities. He pulls back for a breath.

"I watched, you know. Your fingers… they weren't cutting it. You need this. You need me…you do. You really do…"

The pads of his fingers are rough, you can feel the callouses against your walls, but you can't seem to care.

A knot was forming in your stomach, and when he pressed his hand down right below your naval you choked on your breath, releasing.

With a content sigh, he drank you, a sheen of what was left resting on his chin when he rose up.

Tired, nearly overstimulated, you push yourself up, wary.

"Enough, you, I won't tell, I swe-"

"Shh, shh, shhh." He pressed a finger to your lips. You can taste yourself.

Rising back to his feet, he stands, unbuttoned his pants. Your eyes widened and you backed up, only for him to grab your ankle hard. It would bruise, his grip stronger than you expected.

"I'm not done. Stay still."

His tone briefly reminds you of the knife on the floor.

Your mind is still reeling, your legs still twitching from the abrupt orgasm. But he ignores it all, slipping himself out of his briefs. It's too fast, all of this. Too much, when his grip on your ankle hurts. Too much, when he twists it hard, no doubt spraining it as he holds it high to his shoulder, your other leg around his hip. Too much, when he swallows your scream with a kiss, pressing the head of his cock into you.

He shudders, the first sensation of your walls around him euphoric. He felt a high, and he had half a mind to just taste more of you right there.

The knife was on the floor though, and he was too engrossed to be bothered to grab it. Instead, he bit into your calf, his cuspids breaking the skin. Oh, how he loved that look on your face. The bleach eyes, the tears, the snot cause you can't stop crying…it was beautiful to him. All of it.

Warmth flooded his mouth the same as it engulfed his cock, but he wanted more. So again he bit, tearing the bite in your calf a little wider, the piece he managed to rip off resting on his tongue. It was like veal, or pork. Sweet, savory, firm. He moaned at the taste, swallowing slowly, savoring the remnants of the flavor that rested on his tongue. You mewled, terrified, excited, tired as his hips began to move.

It was awful, yet amazing. Contradictions and hypocritical all at the same time. It didn't matter to either of you, not when he pushed into you further, his shaft dipping in and out as you spread for him. Your clenched tightly, almost too much so before he tells you to relax, as if he hadn't just taken a bite from you. But you try. You really try. But it's not until he gets to the hilt that you release the tension. He grins, teeth faintly red from your blood. You can see a part of your skin in his mouth, but you don't have time to think, not when he thrusts in, and out, in, and out again and again.

He looks at your face, your slack expression making him giddy, more so than he's been the entire night. Something tugs at the back of his mind, telling him to take what he wants.

So he does.

He takes, and takes, and takes till your convulsing, eyes nearly rolled to the back of your sockets, bloody and drained, ready to meet your maker. But he's not satisfied yet.

Close, but not yet.

You look at him, pleading for him to let go, but it's impossible to, not when you look so pretty like this.

Hands on your hips with a bruising grip, your ankle is swollen, medical attention disregarded as it rests on the edge of the table, your leg off his shoulder. Your fine leg is still on his hip, your heel digging into the end of his back, right above his ass. You arch your back, becoming desperate to finish this already, but you know that's not your purpose right now.

"Can't…" He starts between skipped breaths, the adrenaline finally catching up to him, "can't believe no one's had the thought… they're all blind. All of them- you... you're perfect. Pretty, delicious. Sustainable. The rest... They're animals."

You didn't get it, too busy chasing a high you might not get.

He moans, leaning down into you, his arms on either side of you, his face pressed into your stomach. He'd surely go crazy from you. He was close, you both knew it. The way his movements became uncoordinated and sloppy, it was all telltale signs.

"When I'm done- I'm coming back, and don't you forget it. 'Kay?"

You nod yes. Of course you do.

And even if you didn't, he'd take it as one.

His balls tightened, and he felt it, the familiar sensation of release. Except instead of being on pictures of you, it was in you. He bit into your stomach, his arms slipping underneath you, pulling you closer as he came deep into you. You gasped, your palms digging into his shoulders, attempting to push him away, but he would not let up.

He laughs, loud, rambunctious, victorious.

And bile builds up in your throat. You swallow it back, demanding yourself not to throw up.

Salty tears stream down your face, but he ignores it. Soft, he pulls out. Happy.

And before you can get up, the knife is in his hands.

[daddyyy88]

Take care of yourself | Eddie Munson x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 1.0k

warnings: reader has low iron, reader passes out, ?

if I got any information about having low iron incorrect, please let me know and I will correct it

summary: Eddie just wants you take care of yourself



You should’ve known better. You’d run out of your iron supplements weeks ago and kept forgetting to buy them again. You felt fine for a while, and then all your symptoms came back. You kept meaning to buy it, truly, but things would come up or you’d be so exhausted you forgot everything and just focused on getting home.

Today, you felt the worst you’ve ever felt in your life. Your entire body felt heavy, and you were so dizzy you almost felt like you were swaying all day (you definitely were), and your manager sent you home because you looked sick.

“Baby?” Eddie said as you walked in the door. You sighed, rubbing your eyes as you set your keys down and hung your bag up. He walked over and kissed your head, a little surprised when your sort of leaned all your weight on him.

“You tired?” He asked and you nodded. He rubbed your back and said “let me make you something to eat first, go get comfy” “no it’s okay” you mumbled, slowly walking to the bedroom. Eddie noticed how weak you seemed and quickly grabbed your hips to steady you.

“My love, what’s going on?” He asked and you shook your head. You shivered a little, feeling really cold before you said “it’s nothing, I’m just really tired” “alright,” he said cautiously. He kissed your head and you made your way to the bedroom.

You sighed, slipping off your shirt and pants and turning on the shower. You shivered slightly, brushing through your hair. You felt so weak, you couldn’t wait to sleep.

You lost your balance trying to step into the shower, at least that’s what you tried to convince Eddie has happened. What really happened was you completely passed out and barely missed the handle of the shower as you fell.

“Baby!” Eddie yelled, running into the bathroom. He turned off the shower, and scooped you up into his arms, kissing your head a few times. He rubbed your arm and said “baby, baby wake up for me, yea? Come on, y/n, stop scaring me”

You groaned and squirmed in his arms, making him sigh a breath of relief. “Sweetheart, please, please calm down it’s just me” “I’m fi- I’m fine, Eddie. I just slipped” you said and tried to get out of his arms. He held you tight and you weren’t nearly strong enough to fight back.

“Babe, when was the last time you took your iron pills?” He asked and you groaned. He tapped your cheek, thinking you were losing consciousness again. You sighed and said “um…I don’t know, a few weeks ago? Please don’t- d-don’t take me the hospital. We can’t afford it”

“Weeks? God, baby you’re killing me. And yourself, fuck’s sake!” He said and scooped you up. You sniffled and said “I’m so tired, Eddie” “I know, I know my love” he said and set you on the bed, smoothing your hair back.

He went to the kitchen to find your list of “iron good foods” that you wrote a long time ago so when you needed to keep your iron levels up when your meds ran out you could at least try to by eating these things. Eddie got you a whole platter of everything you had in the kitchen that was on your list and made his way to the room.

“Eddie…it’s cold” you said, shaking slightly. You were panting softly, curled up under the blanket. He caressed your cheek and said “baby, eat some of this stuff. I’m gonna run to Walgreens and get your prescription. I’m gonna have Max come watch you while I’m gone”

He had to get out of there fast, you looked so tired and weak it was breaking his heart. You reached out and grabbed his hand, beginning to scare yourself now. “Wait, wait don’t leave” you said and sighed.

He couldn’t help it as the tears streamed down his cheeks. He remembered the first time this happened and you being in the hospital and discovering your ridiculously low iron levels, it all brought back so much fear and anxiety.

“What’s wrong baby? Do I need to get you to the hospital?” He asked, voice shaky and strained. You whimpered and said “no, no…I just- I-I can’t breathe” “it’s okay, it’s okay just take some deep breaths for me” he said as he caressed your cheek.

When you were feeling a little less like you were gonna pass out 29 times in one minute he got up and called Max to have her get your prescription and some hydration packets as well.

You ended up taking a nap and when you woke up you were feeling better. You knew it would take a couple weeks to actually feel more human and less zombie but you could at least take that shower you wanted and walk around the house.

“You can’t do that again. You know how poorly your body stores iron, you can’t forget to take it. Who knows how much longer you would’ve gone had this not happened, you know eventually it becomes toxic. You have to take care of yourself, babe” he said as he cupped your cheeks, kissing your head.

You nodded and said “I know, I’ve just been so busy and it’s honestly just really stupid that I’ll depend on this stupid pill forever. I hate it, and I wish I wouldn’t pass out because of some stupid thing in my body keeping me from getting one stupid freaking vitamin” “I know gorgeous, I know it’s stupid” he said and you buried your head in his chest.

You took a deep breath and said “I’m sorry I scared you” “it’s okay, I’m just glad I was here. I think I would’ve passed out too if I came home to find you like that” he said and chuckled. You giggled and looked up at him.

“You must really love me if you’re this worked up” you said and he rolled his eyes. You giggled even more and he said “this is what it takes for you to realize?” He shook his head and kissed you softly, grinning at how cute you look.

Taglist: @readsalot73 @hellfire1986baby @my-munson-styles

@tlclick73 @munsonmecrazy

@prestinalove @nevermoreraven1

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

Chris Sturniolo

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[copperbadge]

Hi Sam! Recently diagnosed midlife ADHDer here. First, thanks for talking about your ADHD & sharing what you’re figuring out. It’s super helpful to someone on a similar trajectory.

I just saw a reference to your photo books for the first time & it seems like a great way to help with memory issues that come with ADHD (like I know I did [x thing] but when?). Could you talk a little about the process of collecting photos & such all year & then how you create one?

Thank you!

Ey, happy to have helped! Congrats and sympathies on your diagnosis. And honestly it's good for me too, talking all this out, it helps me get my thoughts in order. I often namedrop you guys to Therapist, you are "my readers" :D

The process of putting the photobooks together is...well, it's a lot, so this is going to be a super high-level overview, but basically yeah I wanted to have records of where I'd been and what I'd been doing that were more concrete than just digital photos on a hard drive or a cloud. But I didn't really want to just print the digital photos and put them in a box, either, so I started making photobooks. Usually I go through Walgreens or Shutterfly for printing, whichever has the good coupons when I'm working on it.

So, here's the weird, kind of obsessive part: a huge help in making a yearly photobook, for me, is the fact that I take my photos off my phone at the end of every month. I have some that live on the phone -- my growing collection of photos of my niece, a selection of photos from my Europe trip, some memes -- but those live in their own folders. The main camera roll gets downloaded every month, and I put them all in a file labeled with the month and year (2023-01, 2023-02, etc). It's a recurring task in my to-do list, that I offload the photos on the last Saturday of each month. You don't necessarily have to do it this way, though -- it's just what works best for me, and I encourage people to find a way to do things that will actually be functional for them.

Across the course of the year, although really moreso in October and November, I go through the photos and remove any I absolutely know I don't want to keep. Once I've done that, I save a copy of the whole year's worth of photos to my digital archive, and I take another copy and label it "FOR PHOTOBOOK" which allows me to do more culling of them than I otherwise would, because I know anything I delete is still in my archive. And this all has the advantage of me knowing that the photos in my archive are at least SOMEWHAT organized.

So I go through all the year's photos in the For Photobook file, month by month, sort them into folders by event (so there's, like, 01-Polar Vortex, or 04-Europe, or 09-Birthday) and clear out all but the photos I know I want most. My photobooks are generally longer than the default length they give you at most sites, so I usually do have to add a few pages (they're like $1/page or something) but not too many. Often these days I have some stuff that's events, like the Europe trip, and then some stuff that's just like....a folder of funny shit I saw in Chicago, or a folder of all the food I photographed that I want to save. The cats generally get their own four-page spread at the back. :D

In 2020, I will say, there were only two themes: CATS and COVID. I alternated pages.

Anyway, once I've got the photos sorted, and deleted any I don't want to include, I get on Shutterfly or Walgreens Photo and start up a new photobook project. I upload the first folder of photos, place them on the page with suitable captions, then upload the second folder of photos, etc etc, until all the photos are uploaded and placed in the book. I don't caption extensively -- often it'll just be a page that'll say like "TEXAS IN JULY!" and all the photos from that trip. But it definitely does help me keep track of what I was up to. And it's kind of soothing to review the year and see all the stuff I accomplished.

So that's the bare bones -- by all means feel free to ask questions, although if you guys wouldn't mind asking in comments or reblogs if possible, that should keep the discussion contained as necessary. :)

[ladyeyrewrites]

Bun in the Oven

Rated M

Chapter 2/4

2496 words

Chapter Two of the trans!Tommy mpreg episode 8X07 rewrite

Chapter mentions dysphoria and centres themes of bodily autonomy and choice though abortion is not explicitly discussed.

Read Chapter One

Read Chapter Two on Ao3 or below the cut

To Buck’s relief, Tommy was still there when he got back from the drug store with three different brands of test. He’d read that it was good to use a variety to cut down on any chance of a false result either way.

Tommy took the Walgreens bag from Buck without a word and went into the downstairs bathroom.

Buck waited.

He paced.

He tried not to hover.

He checked his watch. Minutes ticked by. More than enough minutes for Tommy to have taken the tests and for them to have shown a result.

Buck approached the door, straining his ears for any hint of what was going on inside. Silence. “Need any help?” Buck asked.

“I know how to pee on a stick, Evan,” said Tommy, tone cutting, out-of-control, highlighting just how afraid Tommy was, how uncertain.

It wasn’t a side of Tommy that Buck had been allowed to see much of: only glimpses of anxiety under Tommy’s confident façade. It almost made Buck giddy to know that Tommy was capable of slipping. It made Tommy more real, more loveable – Buck couldn’t help himself.

“I mean do you want any moral support?” Buck asked.

The bathroom door swung open, and Tommy walked out. “I can’t look,” he said, gesturing towards where the three tests lay face down on the bathroom counter.

“Do you want me to check?” Buck asked, gut clenching. He hated how hunched over and small Tommy was making himself. It was like Buck could see Tommy building up his walls, retreating inside thick fortifications as he prepared for the world to lay siege. Buck only hoped he had time to cross the draw bridge and slip through the gate before Tommy slammed it shut and started boiling the oil to fend-off perceived attackers.

Tommy hesitated before nodding.

Buck walked past Tommy into the bathroom and turned over each test one at a time. Joy and fear warred within him as he took in the result. He wasn’t sure which he was allowed to feel right now, not until Tommy had made a choice. “I was right,” Buck said. “You’re pregnant.”

Tommy’s knees buckled and hit the floor. All six-foot-two and two hundred pounds of him collided with the hard wood with a reverberating thud.

Before Buck knew what he was doing, he was sitting on the floor at Tommy’s back, arms wrapped around him while Tommy sobbed into Buck’s forearm, soaking the sleeve of another flannel shirt Buck had stolen from Tommy with tears and snot.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Buck whispered. “I’m here. Whatever you want to do, I’m here.”

They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other until Tommy’s tears stopped. Buck didn’t want to let Tommy go, but it wasn’t about what he wanted right now. “You don’t need to make a decision yet,” said Buck.

Tommy nodded. He took a shaky breath. “It never thought this would happen,” he said. “I mean I haven’t had a period in over a decade. I’m on birth control. We were always so careful except the one time we weren’t and that just happened to line up with when I changed doctors. So many little things had to go wrong all at once.”

“The perfect storm,” said Buck. Tommy’s sandalwood cologne tingled his senses, and he had to fight to hold himself back from leaning in and pressing his face to the back of Tommy’s neck and drinking in his scent, chasing the hint of Tommy’s natural musk that hid under the cologne and aftershave and shampoo scents. Definitely not the appropriate time to be doing that, especially since they weren’t even a couple anymore.

Tommy gave a mirthless chuckle. “We should get up before your leg starts to cramp.”

Buck appreciated the thought. “Kinda too late for that,” he said with a groan, tuning into the throb in his calf now that Tommy had mentioned it.

Tommy extracted himself from Buck’s arms, stood and then turned to offer Buck a hand up. Once Buck was standing, Tommy helped him over to the sofa. He pulled Buck’s leg up into his lap and started massaging the calf muscle. “You don’t have to do that,” said Buck.

“I want to,” said Tommy. “As a friend.”

That last part stung, but at least it was better than Tommy trying to run away and shut Buck out, so Buck let himself relax into the massage. He studied Tommy’s face and having a hard time discerning much beyond the fact that Tommy was clearly terrified. “What are you thinking?” Buck asked.

“I don’t know,” said Tommy. “That I’m scared that if I get rid of it, I’ll regret it, but I’m also scared that if I keep it, it’ll trigger all sorts of dysphoria while I’m pregnant. And I’m confused about feeling so conflicted. And angry. Sad.” He sighed. “But there’s joy? Which is even more confusing because this isn’t something I ever thought I wanted. I still don’t know if I do want it.”

“That’s a lot,” said Buck. Though he had some of the same feelings swirling around inside him as well. Scared that regardless of the choice Tommy made, he wouldn’t want Buck to be involved. Regret over not reaching out to Tommy sooner, before they’d found out, because pregnancy would skew everything Buck had wanted to say to Tommy about his thoughts on the future. Confusion about the way they’d broken up and why it had even happened in the first place when everything was going so well. Anger at Tommy – more of that than Buck cared to admit. And he was sad too. Sad that Tommy was sad.

“Yeah,” said Tommy. “And then there’s that voice that’s telling me to wait a second because what if all the tests are wrong and I’m not really pregnant after all?”

“You wanna schedule a doctor’s appointment,” said Buck. After Tommy nodded, he added. “Do you want me there?” And he so desperately wanted Tommy to say yes.

Tommy hesitated. He frowned, eyes narrowing in thought before he finally nodded again. “Yeah.” It came out as the faintest of whispers. “It’d be good to have a friend there and I am not going to tell anyone else about this unless I absolutely have to.”

And didn’t that just make Buck feel all sorts of complicated ways?

He was glad that Tommy wanted him there, but also sad because it sounded more and more like Tommy didn’t want to keep the baby and the more Buck let himself think about it, the more he found himself wishing that Tommy would decide to keep it. Not that that was Buck’s choice to make, but still; the thought was there, and he couldn’t unthink it.

“Okay,” said Buck.

“You can’t tell anyone,” said Tommy.

“I know,” said Buck.

“I mean it, Evan,” said Tommy.

And that just pissed Buck off. “Contrary to popular belief, I can keep a secret,” he said. Not that he could think of an example off the top of his head right now, but he was sure he’d kept a secret successfully at some point in his life. “Besides, if I start acting weirder than normal everyone’s just gonna think it’s because of the break up.”

Tommy winced. “Okay,” he said. “How’s the leg?”

Buck flexed. “Uh, better. Thanks.” He swung his leg out of Tommy’s lap. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, I should go.” But Tommy didn’t move to get off the couch. He just sat there, staring at his hands.

“You don’t have to,” said Buck.

“That’s a bad idea, Buck,” said Tommy. There he went throwing up his defences again.

“Oh, so we’re back to Buck now,” Buck shook his head. “You don’t need to put distance between us just because I’m trying to take care of you.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” said Tommy.

“Yeah, cuz you’re definitely in an emotional state where it’s safe for you to drive.” Buck couldn’t sit still any longer, so he pushed up off the sofa and started pacing around the coffee table.

“I’ll call an Uber,” said Tommy.

“Your phone’s dead,” said Buck.

Tommy sighed. “You’re not gonna let me leave, are you?”

Buck shook his head. “Not this time,” he said. “Not until we’ve booked you that appointment and you’ve gotten some rest, and I don’t know maybe had an actual conversation about why you thought it was a good idea to break both our hearts before I – according to you – inevitably and unintentionally broke your heart.” Buck gave into some of his anger, not all of it but enough to let Tommy know he was serious.

Tommy looked like he wanted to run away again. If the door had been in his line of sight, he’d probably have been eying it.

“We’re not going to talk about it just yet,” said Buck. “You’re going to book an appointment with your doctor.” He fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and handed it to Tommy. “Then you’re going to take a shower and go to bed and in the morning, I’m going to make you breakfast and we’re going to talk.”

“You’re not going to let me get out of this conversation, are you?” Tommy asked.

“Nope,” said Buck.

Tommy sighed. “Fine.” He snatched Buck’s phone and booked an appointment for the following afternoon. Luckily both of them were off. It would also give them time to talk.

Then Buck ushered Tommy into the bathroom with a change of clothes and the spare toothbrush Buck hadn’t gotten around to throwing out yet. While Tommy was in the shower, Buck made up the sofa and fished out a charger for Tommy’s phone.

And then, since his kitchen was still a mess, and he had nervous energy to work out, so he started tidying up after his bake-a-thon. The brie had gone cold but was still probably edible, Buck hoped. He wrapped it up and found room for it around all the other baked goods – did baked brie count as a baked good? He stared into his fridge. There really wasn’t much else in there besides the baked goods. Nothing really suitable for breakfast, unless cake and cheese counted but Tommy had been pretty adamantly against the cheese and cake seemed like a poor breakfast choice even given the strange situation, they found themselves in.

So, Buck put in a grocery order to be delivered in the morning.

“I guess you’re not doing the whole keto thing anymore,” Tommy said, startling Buck.

Buck turned to see Tommy topless with his arms cross over his chest, his top surgery scars just visible in the shadows of his forearms.

Ordinarily, this would be where Buck would make some sort of suggestive joke and then Tommy would respond in kind and then what little clothes Tommy was wearing would somehow find there way onto the floor —

And, okay, Buck really needed to derail that train of thought stat before he got hard thinking about having sex with his ex in front of that self-same ex. “Yeah, well, kind of hard to recover from heart break without carbs.”

“Oh, come on, Buck!” Tommy actually yelled. It was the first time Buck had ever seen that, and it was kind of hot and not exactly helping the situation in his sweats right now. “We both know that you’ll be over your infatuation soon enough and then you’ll find someone better than me and I’ll just be a memory.”

“Fuck you, Tommy!” Buck shouted. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about you. Infatuation? Is that what you thought you were to me?” Buck shook his head and lowered his voice, trying to get control of himself. “I thought you were it for me. My fucking last. And you thought you were what? A stepping stone? A place holder for my true love? Just another spin around the hamster wheel? That’s bullshit.” Buck didn’t mean to start shouting again, but he was sick of pretending like Tommy hadn’t devastated him. “I wanted to make something with you, and you got scared and rather than talk to me about your fears, you pushed the blame onto some hypothetical version of me that was just using you as an experiment. And that’s not what you were to me, Tommy.”

Buck stared at Tommy, panting, and more words spilled out. “And you just left. Said what you wanted and left. Didn’t give me a chance to say anything. And that wasn’t fair.”

“I have a house, Buck,” said Tommy, still on his “Buck” bullshit. “You asked me to move in with you when I have a house. How was I supposed to take that seriously when clearly you were acting on impulse?”

“Then you tell me to slow down,” said Buck. “You don’t crash the car. Yeah, I got ahead of myself, I own that. I got excited about the idea of building a life together. And I’ll admit, I jumped the gun. Didn’t even tell you I loved you, because I’m an idiot. But I do Tommy. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. I love you so much that my fridge is full of baked goods that I made because I can’t stop thinking about calling you.”

Tommy’s breath hitched and Buck realised that he’d gotten ahead of himself.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was going to wait until morning, I swear. And this isn’t me trying to ask to get back together, because clearly there are other things going on, but it is me asking you to stop making unilateral decisions about things that affect both of us.”

“I really fucked up, huh,” said Tommy quietly, arms still crossed, shoulders hunched, head low.

“Yeah, you did,” said Buck. “I’m gonna go to sleep.” Fuck what they said about not going to bed angry. He trudged over to the sofa. Moments later, he heard Tommy climb the stairs and climb into Buck’s bed.

“Why are my shirts under your pillow?” Tommy called down.

Buck winced at his embarrassing break-up behaviour having been revealed. Maybe he could pretend to be asleep. Only Tommy was well aware that Buck took forever to fall asleep especially when he was worked up about something. So, Buck called back. “Finders keepers.”

Tommy chuckled and even though Buck was still angry, that chuckle maybe burned some of that anger away. Enough that he fell into a restless sleep where he dreamt that Tommy had run away again, taking their kid with him and Buck spent the rest of the dream driving across the country searching for them.

He woke with a start to a text alert telling him the grocery delivery was almost there.

Buck scrubbed a hand over his face and forced himself off the sofa, body complaining with every movement. It was going to be a long-ass day.

@silversky9 @unhingedangstaddict @ironspiderdad12 @beanarie @sporadicmakerwerewolf @azaharinflames @aisatsana441 @bugboybuck

[thebibliosphere]

Hello! A long while back (it's had to have been at least a year at this point), you and Mothman came into where I worked with the lovely miss Holly Mop (she had fur stuck in her eye and was squinting it; we rinsed it out and sent her home). I recognized her from your blog, but didn't know how to say I knew you and read (and loved!) your work without it being awkward, since things like legal names automatically come up in our system, and I didn't want you to be worried about it? But I've (1/3)

also felt bad since then about not telling you because idk, I feel like you deserve to know if someone Recognizes You from the blue hellsite. So I guess I just wanted to say: you and Mothman were very lovely, and Holly is genuinely the cutest shih tzu I have ever seen irl and that is saying smth bc I have seen a lot. I also made a point to make myself forget everything else from that appointment, so I also have no idea who you are beyond your pen name. (⅔)

Sorry if this worries you at all - it was absolutely not my intention, I just feel you deserve to know. And I’m sorry for not telling you at the time that I recognized you. I do not expect a response from you at all, I just wanted to let you know, especially if it makes you uncomfortable and would want to block me for it ;v; I hope you have a fantastic evening, and thank you guys for being so kind to your veterinary staff. (3/3)

----------

You're going to laugh when I tell you this, but if you're who I am thinking of, when you took Holly Mop away, I turned to Mothman and said, "I think that person knows me. Or maybe they've just got Tumblr vibes. I think it's the hair."

So if you are who I think you are, you have great hair, and thank you so much for taking such good care of Ms. Holly.

She normally comes out of veterinary rooms traumatized, and our visit to see you at [redacted] was the first time that didn't happen.

It was one of the reasons we signed ourselves up for the waiting list to move her primary care there, which we just have! Holly is now an official primary patient where you work (provided you are still there), so if you see us in the future, please feel free to say hi! (if you want to, no pressure) It makes us feel better to know she's in safe hands with people who care about her and who don't set her anxiety off.

And also, please don't feel bad about not saying anything the first time around. It can be hard to walk up to someone -- especially at your job -- and be like, "I like your shoelaces" (though it has happened to me a couple of times at Target, Walgreens, my hair stylist, lol) and don't worry about knowing our identities. There's a handful of people on here who know my legal name vs my preferred name -- all we ask is that it not get posted anywhere.

Thank you for letting me know though, and thank you again for taking such good care of Holly Mop. We really appreciated it, and you made her feel so much better. 💖