▸summary: you have an issue. eddie has a talent at acting. you have to get rid of a really sketchy guy. he has to get people to stop making up rumours about him and chrissy. a perfect problem.
▸characters: eddie munson, fem!reader, chrissy cunningham, male!oc
▸tw: creep guy, borderline sa, an adult word or two
▸a/n: this came to me in a dream. it was a great dream. i was sad it was over
MANY OF THE students at Hawkins would say that Percy Thorn was a pretty good choice of boyfriend. He was a very tall, slightly lanky yet strong art student with a charming personality, a dazzling smile, and a 1984 Harley Davidson FXRT. Yes, he was quite a choice.
He was also an incredible egomaniac.
For the past week and a half, Percy Thorn had not once left you alone if he could help it. Lunch times, he was there. Art class, he was there. Maths and English, he was there. He was like carbon dioxide: always there, yet never wanted.
Well, this past couple of days, he’d gone above and beyond in trying his best to ‘get you’. He’d tried the flirting, leaning against inanimate objects (and animate objects, such as poor Joseph with the glasses), pick up lines, asking his friends to ask you out for him. Nothing seemed to work. So, he tried the next option.
Touching.
First, it was an arm around your shoulders. Then pats on the head. Then a hand grab. But today, he’d been rather bold, going as far as to place a hand on your thigh. When he did that, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“I have a boyfriend.”
Oh, boy. You had just told Percy Thorn that you had a boyfriend. That did not exist. That was nowhere to be found. That currently had his residential address set in Narnia. You had to find a boyfriend, stat.
When lunch rolled around, you burst into the cafeteria wide-eyed, panicked, and panting. Your eyes then landed on one set person that could quite possibly guarantee your safety from Mr.-let-me-lick-my-lips-and-hope-I-look-sexy.
You beelined for the table he was currently sitting at, taking the empty seat next to him, smoothing out your skirt.
“I’m really sorry, but I need a boyfriend.”
The man blinked once, twice, gaping like a fish. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before blurting, “I beggest thou pardon?”
It was probably the stupidest thing Eddie Munson could have said. But he was discussing Hellfire, and he was speaking in old English, and then he remembered he had a Shakespeare assignment due tomorrow, and the dominoes just kept falling.
Eddie had never thought that someone such as yourself, a rather ethereal being that was currently spending her angelic time at a school such as this, could ever taint her reputation by breathing the same air as him, never mind sitting next to him. He was a little taken aback, evidently.
Gareth, who was sitting opposite him, merely dropped his head rather heavily on the table, banging it a couple of times before sighing. Jeff merely pat him a few times on the back, muttering “I know, dude, I know” to the poor boy. You and Eddie both watched this with rather similar facial expressions, allowing Eddie time to process what you’d just said.
“I’m so sorry,” he backtracked. “I meant to say... what?”
“Percy Thorn won’t leave me alone, and I told him I had a boyfriend, and he didn’t believe, me, and he won’t believe me until I show him, and I know that you’re a kind of freak, no offence, but if you pretended to date me, he’d probably get the message and leave me alone because he would never try to mess with you, what with you being the devil’s spawn or something, I don’t know, but I suppose the basic gist of this is, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend so he can stop touching me?”
How you managed to say that in one breath was rather impressive, Eddie had to admit. He also had to admit that he was, in fact, not listening until you mentioned touching. His eyes narrowed when he heard that and he pursed his lips.
See, he had his own little problem. Someone had seen Chrissy and him talking at one point in time, and now they had spread the rumour that the two were know a thing, meaning that Chrissy’s anxiety had skyrocketed when people whispered, and Eddie was getting into a lot more fights than he was before the rumours began. He’d only just had a black eye fade, and already had a threat for another one. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to go blind.
“Pissing off Percy Thorn, huh?” he murmured thoughtfully. “Hmmmm...”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, dude, take the deal,” Gareth hissed, not lifting his head from the table.
“Sure, why not?” the metalhead smirked, and you nearly fell backwards from relief.
“Okay,” you breathed, ready to cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”
“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart, relax.” He raised a hand to your waist, halting and asking permission with his eyes. At your soft smile and small nod, he wrapped an arm around your lower back, peeking two fingers underneath your ABBA themed baby tee. You shivered at the cool temperature of his silver rings, and were quite flustered at the heat of his skin. It was a rather beautiful contrast.
You were a rather physically affectionate person, and were rarely uncomfortable with touch unless someone else was. But this was an Eddie-initiated thing, so you leaned into his side, placing your head just below his collarbone. His hair smelt nice, and it was gorgeously soft. He had great curls.
“Wow, your hair is like, ridiculously nice,” you muttered. He chuckled.
“Thanks, doll. It’s my three-in-one shampoo,” he joked. You cracked a small smile at that, it dropping as soon as you heard footsteps and turned to see the douchebag himself strutting over.
“Well, well, well.” Percy Thorn also had a very silky voice. He could’ve been a voice actor. “We find ourselves in a predicament at the moment.”
Gareth lifted his head from the table, his eyes slits as he glared through his own brunette curls at the leather-clad artist. “And what would that be, o mighty one?”
Percy turned up his lips, looking Gareth up and down, turning back to Eddie. “The devil’s spawn has his hands on my girl.”
Eddie raised his lips in a sarcastic grin, cocking his head. “Last I checked, she was my girl.” Eddie tightened his arm to sell the point, and you raised your hand to his, lacing your fingers. You really wanted to vomit when Percy said ‘his girl’.
Percy scoffed. “Oh, please. No one would be caught dead sharing your seat on the bus, let alone allowing themselves to be called your girl.”
“Yeah, well, the reason she is my girl is because we shared a seat on the bus, so I guess luck was on my side.”
Damn, Eddie was good at lying. You smirked a little at the little made up story. You nuzzled into his neck a little, grabbing his attention.
“I have to go. Mrs. Craig won’t handle tardiness from anyone, not for the sake of algebra.” You swung your legs over the seat, hand still interlaced. He did the same, only with one leg. He pressed his lips to your knuckles, delighting in Percy’s absolute look of fury.
“I shall see you soon, my heavenly rose,” he bade farewell, sounding like one of the characters from the play he was meant to be analysing, Twelfth Night. You giggled a little. Even though you were only pretending, Eddie was rather funny.
“I await the chance, fair knight,” you returned, curtseying rather clumsily. He smiled back at you. You were quite pretty when you smiled.
You began to walk away, avoiding Percy’s look of rage when you passed. You couldn’t walk very far however, when you gasped, stopping in your tracks. Tears appeared in your eyes.
Percy smirked, the spot where he’d slapped your butt still tingling. You’d never wear this skirt in public again. Your hand flew to the spot, trying to stop something, anything, everything from happening all at once. You spun around, hunched over a little as you kept your legs together, as though you were a cowering puppy.
Eddie’s smile faded, replaced with a rather scathing look. The look of fear, no, distress that was on your face had him reeling. He grabbed the nearest thing, which was his lunch tray, shot up, flung his arms back, and brought the tray right on Percy’s ear.
The art student crumbled like a sack of potatoes, yelling as he clutched his ear. Eddie stood in front of you protectively, lunch tray still clutched rather tightly in his hand.
“You bastard.”
“Mr. Munson!” The whole cafeteria swung from looking at Eddie to looking at the teacher that had just shouted. “Principal’s office! Now!”
The brunette sighed, dropping the tray. Gareth sputtered.
“Wha- but Percy literally just assaulted her!”
“You too!” She didn’t even know his last name.
“That’s not fair.” You were trying to help, but it was hard when you were trying not to burst into tears.
“You know what? Life’s not fair. All three of you, go!” She pointed in the direction of the principal’s office Percy’s friends rushed to help their fallen mate.
Eddie stuck close to you the whole walk to the principal’s office. “Welp, that was an eventful relationship.” He tried joking, but it didn’t crack a smile this time.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I got you both in trouble.”
“Nah,” Gareth waved his hand, dismissing you. “It was worth it. Seeing Thorn fold like that was funny. Plus,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “Eddie’s got a girlfriend.”
“Pretend girlfriend.” Eddie cleared his throat turning a little red. Gareth shrugged and walked a bit in front of them. The metalhead turned to you, sheepishly running his hand on the back of his neck. “Sorry about him, and that whole tray smack thing.”
“It’s okay, for both things.” You said quietly. “But, uh, you wouldn’t mind being my pretend boyfriend for a little longer, would you? I’m a little paranoid now.”
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Eddie grinned like the cheshire cat. “How about I drop you home to solidify the story?”
You smiled at that. “I’d really love that.”
Besides, he could use your help on that assignment.
thank you so much this is such high praise 🥹🥹🫶🫶
▸summary: steve just wants cuddles. and he'll play the song on repeat until he gets them.
▸characters: steve harrington x gn!reader
▸tw: tooth. rotting. FLUFF
▸a/n: i did not die. have some happy words.
HE MUST'VE HAD the song downloaded four-hundred times on his cassette tape, because you were just about ready to bash your head in when the beginning notes played from Steve's bedroom.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, it's not warm when she's away.
You were in the living room, finishing up some writings that you had due for your classes when you gazed unamused at the ceiling. He'd been playing the song on repeat, singing along badly in order to coax you into giving him some love and affection as you always did on a Tuesday afternoon. Unfortunately, this deadline was currently taking priority, and Steve was being a drama queen about it.
You still had about four pages to write, as well as some questions to answer before anything else took over your mind, so you had to suffer.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and she's always gone too long, anytime she goes away.
You'd practically memorised the words and melody to this song, mouthing them with good ol' Bill Withers as he provided sustenance to feed Steve's dramatics. You could hear Steve's faux grieving voice as he sang along, making the song a whole heap more dramatic than the original recording.
Wonder this time where she's gone, wonder if she's gonna stay.
Trying to persevere through the loud stereo blasting muffled music above your head is a lot more difficult than you might imagine. Ever since you had gone to his place in a tizzy that you had things to do before a deadline and couldn't afford any distractions, you had banished him to his room, and for about an hour, had some quiet.
That changed when the second hour became the third, and the music started when the sun began to go down, reeling on loop as though it was a broken record.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and this house just ain't no home, any time she goes away.
You smiled slightly, though. For all of Steve's dramatics and ridiculous behaviours, he loved you, and you loved him. All of his quirks made him special to you, and you loved to be with him no matter what was happening around the world, especially when the whole Upside Down thing began catching up to him, mentally and physically. Now, he was a cuddly baby that loved hugging you. He always said that he felt safer to sleep in your arms.
And I know, I know, I know, I know...
He must've given up on singing, because Steve's voice could no longer be heard. Probably ran out of oxygen. Good. He needed to rest after the whole Russian situation. You only had one page left to write and a few more questions to do before you could give your Steve what he needed so desperately.
A hug. And a fat nap.
You sighed as the tape continued playing the bridge, scrawling your pencil over the paper. You had started with gorgeous cursive, and had evolved into writing chicken scratch to speed up the time. Two questions down, half a page to go...
Hey, I ought to leave the young thing alone, but ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
Three lines, two sentences, aaaaand...
Done.
Throwing the pencil down and thudding the book shut, you pushed yourself to a standing position, practically bounding up the stairs, dragging yourself up by the handrails.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday.
You came to the first floor landing, stepping onto the carpeted floor with your socked feet and beelined for Steve's room. The door was shut, but Bill's soothing voice carried through the wood, almost getting impossibly loud as you inched closer.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and this house just ain't no home, any time she goes away.
Stepping into the room as you swing open the door, the final outro of the song is echoing through, fading away. You smile to find Steve on his back, staring at the ceiling as he waits for the next loop to begin.
You are silent as you halt the tape, crawling onto the bed and giving him a big ol' smooch. He looks at you with innocent and wide eyes, a big fat smile settling on his face.
"All done?" he asks.
You nod, confirming. "All done."
You yelp as he flings himself at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tumbling over the other side of the bed. He's quick to bring the covers over you both, leaving the bed side light on. A new habit, but it didn't bother you.
You tussled for a little, finding a comfortable position that agreed with all parties and bones. You settled on bear hugging him as he tangled your legs together and kept his nose near your hair.
You giggled, running your nails down his back. "You big baby."
He grumbled. "Ain't no sunshine when you're not here."
#fancy a bit of brain surgery he says #like ??? #😭😭
dodgerfox in every episode ♡ 1.03 “dead men's secrets”
stop my tummy’s fluttering
Eddie x Gareths sisterrrrr????? Like Romeo and Juliet type stuff where Gareth is like my sister is NOT dating you
thanks so much for your request, anon!! i had so much fun writing it!! there isn't much conflict with gareth, but i hope you like it anyway! jealous!eddie x girly!reader (1.6k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
Gareth picks you up from the mall at six o’clock sharp.
You say goodbye to your friends, all of them wearing the same tank top and pleated skirt duo you’re in, before getting into the passenger seat of his pick-up truck. You’re dressed too nicely to be sat in such a beaten-up thing. Too pretty for it, too.
“Wanna get something to eat?” the boy asks as he pulls out of the parking lot, talking over the Dio song blaring on the radio.
He’s wearing his usual flannel vest over a tattered Metallica tee. The former is riddled with various vintage pins fitting for a metalhead. Down to his skull necklace, ripped jeans, and dirty sneakers — the two of you couldn’t be more different.
You flip down the visor and use the mirror to put on a swipe of glittery lipgloss. You feel almost naked without it. “Slurpees?” you offer before smacking your mouth to spread the sparkly glaze.
“That’s so not dinner,” Gareth laughs as he shakes his sandy curls.
You arch a manicured brow in his direction. “Got a better idea?”
“Nope,” he concedes, popping the ‘p.’
He’s got too much of a soft spot for you to deny you of anything. Perks of being the youngest sibling, you suppose.
You feel butterflies fluttering like crazy in your stomach, their wings brushing the edges of your ribcage as he pulls into the gas station — and it’s not because of the $1 Slurpees. Your stepbrother’s best friend, Eddie Munson, usually deals drugs in the back parking lot on weekends. Like the absolute dreamboat he is.
It’s been days since you last saw him. Six of them, to be exact, but it’s not like you’re counting or anything.
While Gareth waits in line to pay for your drink and his food, you decide to quell your yearning. It’s much more like a hunger, though. Whatever innocent crush you used to have is far more salient now. You miss Eddie like a dinner you didn’t get to eat — noticeably empty, weakened without his smile to bring you back to life.
You round the corner to the back lot and find him flipping through a wad of cash. He leans against the brick wall with one dirty sneaker kicked up against it. Despite the middle of summer head, he hasn’t yet forgone his leather jacket and dark denim jeans duo. He looks killer, as usual — so you could only imagine how he’d look out of them.
When he hears the sound of footsteps scuffing against pavement, he looks at you from the corner of his eye. His gaze is halfway hidden beneath his fluffy bangs before he turns to face you wholly.
He grins at the sight of you, and you fill whole again.
“Hi, Teddy,” you greet with a smile, stained blue from your raspberry Slurpee.
He rises on both feet and tucks the money into the back pocket of his baggy jeans. His head tilts to his shoulder as he looks at you, too cute for his own good. “Whatcha doin’ out here, princess?”
Your stomach flutters at the nickname you’ve heard too many times to count.
“Came to see you,” you shrug innocently, curling your smile around the straw of your drink.
Eddie beams, brows raising in amusement and cheeks reddening at your answer. He hopes you’re too far away to see his cheeks glowing as pink as they are now. He’d just blame it on the summer heat, anyway.
“Really?” he lilts, voice light and airy with mirth.
You shrug as you swallow down the fruity slushy. “Gareth brought me for Slurpees.”
“How sweet.”
“Right?” you hum with a blue-tinted smirk, slowing when you finally reach the boy. His weed-tinged, woody musk envelopes you completely — he might as well be embracing you. “Best brother ever.”
Gareth isn’t really your brother, despite how often you call him that. You’re related by marriage, not by blood. You’ve known him your entire life, though, so you figure you might as well be.
Eddie knows this, so he smiles and takes a rather dramatic step back from you. “And that is exactly why I have to stay approximately three feet away from you at all times, princess.”
“Why’s that?” you squint at him.
When you take another step closer, he takes two more back.
“‘Cause he’s been threatening to beat my ass about dating you since we were thirteen.”
A smile quirks the right side of your lips. “Well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” you lilt.
Eddie’s brows raise at the mischievous inflection in your words. This time when you step towards him, he stays in place. “You’d really do that to him? To the ‘best brother ever?’”
You take another daring step towards him. Your chin tilts up to look at him in your ever-shortening proximity. “I’ve done far worse things than think his best friend is hot, Teddy.”
“Yeah?” the boy coos, chocolate eyes dancing with amusement as his chin dips to his chest to peer down at you. He makes the mistake of looking lower — at your breasts in your pretty little tank top and the silver of your stomach showing beneath the hem. He wants so desperately to hold you, despite everything that tells him he shouldn’t. His best friend, namely.
“And what’s that, princess?” the boy croons to you.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” you blink innocently up at him, then shrug. “Sorry.”
Eddie knows he shouldn’t be jealous, but he is.
You’re not his, but god, you were so good at making him feel like you were. You were around so often, always so sweet in your way — sometimes, it felt like you really did belong to him. The thought of his girl with someone else makes him feel like puking.
Jealousy radiates from him like steam, palpable enough for you to feel.
You grin.
“Don’t worry, Teddy,” you singsong, taking another goddamn step closer. Eddie knows he should be taking a thousand more backward, but your chest brushes his torso and he forgets how to walk. “I only have eyes for you.”
The boy swallows through a tightening throat. He nods for a moment, trying to work up the courage to use his voice. He’s scared that it’ll break, and he’ll lose all cool points with you. And he’s the rockstar, the older brother’s best friend — he can’t possibly have that.
“Good to know,” Eddie finally nods.
“Don’t keep me waiting too long, though. Might have to find some other metalhead to give me attention.”
Your smile widens when his jaw clenches, honeyed glaze hardening at the thought of you finding someone else. Your heart flutters when you realize that he sees you as his. He’s already been yours for a long, long time.
Gareth calls your name from a distance, muffled and far away. It’s nearly inaudible, but it knocks Eddie from his stupor all the same. “You should go, princess.”
“My parents usually go to bed around nine. Gareth’s usually sucking in the ceiling by eleven,” you maunder suddenly, wide eyes sparkling with roguishness. “If you park your van a few houses down around midnight, no one will be the wiser…”
“You want me to sneak into your bedroom?” Eddie laughs softly to himself. He hasn’t done that since he was sixteen. He thought he was over chasing girls like that. Turns out, he wasn’t really. Not when it came to you, at least.
“Uh-huh,” you hum with a firm nod, lips wrapping around the red straw of your slushy right after.
“And what’s in it for me, huh?”
Truth be told, Eddie couldn’t give a shit. He already knows he’ll be at your house at 12 o’clock sharp, climbing up your trellis like some kind of offbeat Spiderman. He just wants to hear you tell him something, anything — a wish for him to go on for the next several hours while he’s stuck dealing in the heat, thinking about you.
You don’t answer him with words.
You rise on the tips of your toes, holding onto your Slurpee with one hand and using your free one to cup his cheek. You usher the boy softly towards you as you press your mouth to his. And it’s not the most heated kiss in the world or anything — just a languid, honeyed thing that makes your lips lock like they were made to do it.
Eddie’s idling hands rise to your waist. His ringed fingers squeeze the bare skin of your sides as he sighs against your mouth. You taste cold and sweet — like blue raspberry and ice and lipgloss — his savior in this heat. The tip of his nose smushes against the side of yours, desperate to melt with you entirely. He thinks it might be close to possible, having you so close in the sweltering summer evening.
He’s breathless when you pull away from him.
“More of that,” you answer through labored breaths. “And maybe a little extra, if you’re good.”
Eddie doesn’t bother denying his want for you anymore. Fuck it, he’ll just fight his best friend. He can take a punch if he has to, but he’s not sure Gareth could even throw one — especially not at the boy he’s known for practically half his life.
“Your bedroom’s the last window on the light, right?” Eddie asks through rosy, kiss-bitten lips.
“Yeah,” you grin, backing slowly away from him. “I’ll leave my light on.”
He nods until the words catch up with him. “Okay.”
“See you then, Teddy.”
When you turn the corner for the main parking lot, Eddie can finally breathe again.
The air is noticeably less sweet without you around.
▸summary: he's absolutely sure he loves you. he's absolutely sure you love him. flowers aren't given to just anybody.
▸characters: remus lupin x f! reader, lil snippets of james and sirius and peter
▸tw: hay fever, small sadness moment
▸a/n: consider this my apology for the previous angst post. also, look at the guy. he's a smol bean
REMUS LUPIN WAS a sucker for a good bouquet. He'd always want to give them to you, yet he could never find the moment. There'd always be something that would stop him.
Today was one of the days where his plans were smudged.
It was a Hogsmeade day, so naturally, he with his posse decided to head into the town to scope out bouquets. There was one he'd seen little bit ago that he was fidgeting to buy. It was a beautiful set of red and white roses with baby's breath surrounding them. They were your favourite flowers.
Sirius Black had never felt so depressed than when he had watched his friends realise that the 'sold out' sign was for the bouquet he wanted to get for you. He felt so out of place when Remus looked like he had just been deprived of his natural resource of chocolate.
"Why not just get her different flowers?" the Black boy asked, awkwardness coating his very body in a tense feeling.
Remus sighed. "But those were for her. They were like, specifically crafted just so that she could have them. And now they're gone. And I still haven't gotten her flowers!"
James sympathised more with Remus that Sirius could. James often got flower for Lily from this very shop. Albeit, she always threw them out when she got them, but it was the thought that counted. Peter didn't say anything. He was too busy drawing stars in the snow.
The bespectacled boy put his hand on Remus' shoulder, noticing his friend's eyes welling with tears. "It's alright, mate. There's always tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day."
"But I wanted to get her those today."
There was something so frustrating about not getting something done on the day you planned. You'd feel so incomplete in your tasks, and he'd never get to sleep tonight. Well, he might drift off if he cried long enough.
The walk back to the dorms was long and awkward and tense and depressing. There were so many emotions. Remus has just been thwarted yet again in his attempts to woo you. Peter was plucking the snow off of his mittens one by one.
"Damn, mate, you are so in deep," Sirius teased, trying to lighten the mood. "I mean, I've heard of puppy love, but this just takes the cake."
"Is that supposed to be a pun?" Remus muttered. It was kinda funny.
"I suppose so."
They had only gotten to the dorm when they heard the girls. They were laughing. No, hang on. They were shrieking. And... sneezing?
The four boys entered the common room to find Lily and Marlene holding onto furniture for dear life, their faces as red as their ties. Marlene tried to heave in a breath and little was wiping her face.
And then you sneezed. They erupted into laughter again.
"What on earth is going on?" James asked, confusion filling his bloodstream. The girls couldn't find the words, too busy giggling, so you decided to speak.
"I bought flowers for Remus," you started, your nose stuffed, "and I have just found out that I am, in fact, deathly allergic to flowers."
You sneezed again. The girls didn't completely fall apart, but they still chuckled.
Remus looked at you with those big eyes of his. "You got me flowers?"
"Yeah," you said sheepishly. "I though it'd be a nice surprise, but now I'm covered in snot, my nose and throat hurts, my head kinda aches, and my eyes are red."
You sneezed, and Remus started laughing. He rested his head on your shoulder, despite your protests.
"How did you never realise you had a tendency to get hay fever?" Sirius asked, trying to stifle his own chuckles.
"I don't know. It doesn't get this bad at home. The flowers there are small, and here, I don't go out much in the spring. It's too warm. Plus, it's not like I get up close and personal with flowers now, do I?"
"Yeah, but still. It's hay fever, it's a pretty common thing."
"Like I said," you sneezed again, away from Remus' face, "there just wasn't enough for me to notice." You paused for a second. "I always wondered why I got the sniffles in the springtime. I thought it was just spring colds."
James grinned. "Well, now you know."
You sneezed twice more, Remus brushing the hair out of your sweaty face.
"I think we need to rescue you from your natural foe." He guided you by the hand outside of the common room, and he stole a glance back at the flowers you had bought for him, his heart swelling.
Red and white roses surrounded with baby's breath.
cobra kai masterlist.
𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦
𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥
⤑ characters
miguel diaz |
𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭
𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱, 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳
⤑ miguel diaz
nothing like this
you believed you were ready for anything. anything did not mean this. nothing like this.
ain’tcha just the cutest?
you have a phrase that you love to say to your boyfriend. miguel loves when you say it. win-win.
𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩
𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥
Please take a few minutes to watch the video and read this post.
I am writing these words after losing hope in everyone… except for you, my friends. Tumblr has a very large number of users, estimated in the millions . That’s an enormous number! But imagine, with all those of people, how would you feel if people saw you and ignored you? You’d feel deeply disappointed, right? Or maybe you’d even wish for death.
Have you ever wished for death? For me, I feel like I’d rather die than be ignored by everyone. If I wasn’t in desperate need of help, I wouldn’t ask anyone for it. I really need help.
Imagine for a moment that you have a small child you love dearly, and you’re forced to watch her suffer in front of your eyes. This isn’t just an imagination for me; it’s my reality. My family and I live this pain every day.
Please, be our hope. Be our voice. Be the ones who save us from despair. Don’t ignore us. Donate, even if it’s just $5 .
There are so many people reading this post right now. I beg anyone who sees these words to donate if they can, and if not, to share this post. Please, don’t leave us behind.
Be our family, or think of us as members of your own family, and save us from this suffering. No matter how small the amount, your help means the world to us. And if you can’t donate, share this post and add a few kind words to inspire others to help.
Thank you so much, everyone. I wish you all the best.
✅vetted by The ButterflyEffect Projects #764 on verified campaigns list) previously shared by 90-ghost ✅
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𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘣 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴?
𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸?
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🏚️ From Rubble to Renewal — Help Mohamed Rebuild a Home Full of Hope 🌿
In the blink of an eye, the life we knew disappeared.
My name is Mohamed, and I’m writing this with a heart full of sorrow—but also a quiet flame of hope. Our family home, a place that held generations of memories, was reduced to rubble in an instant. The rooms that once echoed with laughter, the walls that witnessed our stories, and the garden where we dreamed of better days—all of it is gone.
And yet, we are still here.
Still standing. Still believing. Still dreaming.
Before the war, our home wasn’t just a structure—it was everything. It was the heartbeat of our family. We shared countless dinners around a modest table, whispered goodnight to one another across quiet rooms, and celebrated the small joys that made life meaningful. It was a place of love, of safety, of tradition.
Losing it has left a deep wound in our lives. But what we haven’t lost is our will to rebuild.
We are determined not to let destruction be the end of our story. We want to rebuild our home not just with bricks and wood, but with faith, with dignity, and with your support.
I know there are countless stories in the world that deserve to be heard, and I humbly ask that you take a moment to hear ours. We are turning to this community, to the kindness of strangers, because we believe in the power of people coming together to lift one another out of despair.
Your support—whether it’s a donation, a share, or even just a moment of your time—can help lay the first stone of our new beginning.
💛 Every dollar brings us one step closer to safety. 🧱 Every share gives our story a voice. 🌱 Every gesture, no matter how small, is a reminder that compassion can grow even in the harshest soil.
We are not asking for charity. We are asking for a chance. A chance to rebuild our lives, to give our children a roof under which they can dream again, and to find peace after so much pain.
Please, if you feel moved by our story, consider helping us build something new from what’s been lost. Your kindness will be felt not just in concrete and wood—but in every smile, every warm night, and every future moment of joy that your support helps make possible.
From the deepest part of my heart—thank you. For your time, your love, and your belief in us. We will never forget it.
With all my gratitude, – Mohamed
D O N A T E H E R E F O R G A Z A C H I L D R E N
Hawk wanted Demetri to tag him in, but Demetri refused because A. he was still angry at Hawk, and B. he was fighting Spanish Hawk, and so, C. he stubbornly needed to beat Spanish Hawk, by himself.
Appropriately, US Hawk ends up fighting Spanish Demetri:
See? US Demetri really did have all this in his head during the fight when he refused to tag in US Hawk:
(also. his name... means "eagle," amazing. Amazing.)
And I do believe that was Spanish Demetri because in the final brawl, this is Spanish Hawk, helping US Hawk:
So I think this is Spanish Demetri, helping US Demetri:
I sincerely hope that Spanish Hawk and Spanish Demetri have a happy future together.