#being 'fixed' or trying to 'go back to normal'

[revcleo]

while things aren't amazing here (listen to trashfuture to learn more) our worst case scenario is typically turning in the USA (no workers rights, no universal healthcare, no help from the government, massive homeless and drug problem) we just tend to complain about things which are accepted as normal in the USA.

Also the USA has unreliable news on the tv, and we have unreliable news in the papers, it's the reverse. If you want proper news about the UK you need to either watch channel 4 news inc. the local versions, or read the financial times.

Our current main problems are: Tory disinvesment in the NHS has increased waiting times across the board, with some people not getting ambulances for hours, and others having to wait up to 12 hours in A&E (standard times are supposed to be below 4 hours) and there's still a backlog on routine surgeries and checks since covid, meaning people are having to wait ages for certain non-emergency health problems to be investigated, which at very least can put their life on hold for months.

Insitutional transphobia in the Government trying to do what they can to fuck with trans kids, leading to (ignored by the wider media) protests by the group "Trans Kids Deserve Better" and fighting in the courts by The Good Law project. There's also massive waiting lists for NHS trans healthcare due to an intentional lack of investment. See writing and such at Trans Wrights, especially by Abigail Thorne. Note: on everyday life it's ok being trans tbh, most people don't want to be an asshole to you and GPs on the most tend to be understanding, with a few who are trying to refuse care but that's been fought also.

Our previously clean rivers are full of poo because the tories disinvested the environmental watchdog, meaning that the water companies have been dumping sewage in the rivers where previously they got fined, because there aren't enough people to officially notice and say "hey, don't do that."

Tories previously tried to cancel a big new fast trainline from the south of the country to the north of the country and make it stop only in the midlands, making it basically useless. People are now trying to find ways to bring it back and make the train capacity on the network better, so people can stop taking crowded and expensive trains.

Elon musk (can one of you guys please contain him or something) is trying to stir up some shit by insinuating he'll give a lot of money to either the new racist party who appeal to the working class (Reform), or the old racist party who appeal to the upper class (Tories), and yes it's still racist even if a Black woman is the head of the Tories now.

UK also suffering the long effects of Neo Liberalism and disinvesment in public services, but recently Labour have finally changed their accounting to mean they count buildings and stuff as having public monetary value, rather than it just being on in/out, so maybe we'll get some crumbling schools fixed up. There's also still too many people needing foodbanks rather than having adequate amount of benefits, and it's a long tedious process to get enough benefits if you're disabled, and they keep trying to tell disabled people that if they can ever walk 3 steps unaided they're able bodied and can get a job instead.

Floods due to extra climate change rain, nothing bad like Spain had, still bad though.

We have loads of important jobs which need filling like teachers, doctors and nurses, but healthcare workers are getting burnt out and are doing things like completing their training here and then going off to Australia or the USA where they get paid more and do less work.

And we've been creating an environment where it's hard for people to immigrate, as well as the above racist parties trying to say immigration is bad because a few people have come over to the UK on boats from France (the numbers seem like a lot, but most recent immigration has been Ukranian refugees, and the numbers of other refugees or migrants is negiligible in terms of overall housing and care, plus if we didn't want them to come here then the better thing to do is stop climate change than put guns on the cliffs of Dover).

We do have controls on our heating (the heating cap) though it has been going up, due to the fact that a lot of gas in Europe came from Russia, and unfortunately we still have a lot of gas powered properties and we never nationalised the North Sea gas around Scotland (fucking thatcher once again). We have a lot of wind farms, but we have stupid rules which tie the price of electricity to the price of gas, so it's still expensive.

Farmers angry about having to pay inheritance tax, when it only affects big farms such as the ones being bought to avoid paying inheritance tax.

Other than that uhh we have some car-brained people who think that Low Traffic Neighbourhoods where only residents can drive their cars through it are a precursor to trapping them inside places where you can only go 15 minutes in any direction, because they have no idea what a 15-minute city means (it means having all you need within walking distance) and they are sad their shortcut zooming past someone's front garden is no longer allowed. LTNs are great for cycling and walking, and they reduce the amount of pollution around.

But yeah we do have absolute batshit articles, just remember our newspapers are shit with occasional information and that'll help you see things properly. We even have one city (Liverpool) in which one newspaper (The Sun) is considered persona non grata after a few decades ago it blamed them for their own deaths when a bunch of people going to watch the football got involved in a crush due to bad design and panic (Hillsborough)

so yeah like, we do have problems, but typically we are made to understand the problems of the US far more than people in the US are made to understand the problems of the UK, so if you do see an article like "Lord Coddleswallop says that poor should eat their own kids if they're hungry to save on bills" or "Lottie Middlesborough-West-Ealing says cancer treatment should be sold to the most racist man in belgium to save 5p per person" like those articles are a make-work scheme for failed aristocrats who got a ticket to the spectator garden party.

Whenever I think shit is bad here in America I see some headline from the UK like "Want To Shave Some Money Off Your £43,025 Heating Bill This Winter? Piss On Your Hands If They Get Cold" by some guy named Lord Sir Arthur Albert Pomphrey who holds 5 government positions and lives in a house worth $37,000,000,000,000,000

[takes1]

PLEASE I NEED MATSUKAWA OR KUNUMI OR EVEN MADDOG PLEASE IM BEGGING 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🙏

thankz ::3 -🩻

clingy!kentarou x reader (taming maddog)

heyyyy :) finally getting to this hope it's aight

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / riding maddog / 69 / obsessive!maddog / clingy!needy!maddog / possessive!maddog / loneliness theme / 'i can fix him' trope / libero!reader / johsai girls' team reader / maddog being canonically mean / implied virginity / experienced!reader / emotionally intelligent reader / emotionally stunted maddog / 3.6k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3

"(Y/n), like, I know you've got a type and all..."

"Mhmm," You follow absentmindedly, tracking your latest obsession like a hawk.

Number 16 was different- not just attractive, but he had a threatening, intense, sharp presence about him. He was just about the only member of the guys' team who didn't subscribe to a cheerful, cooperative environment. His little outburst earlier caught your attention, and he was currently benched for pushing Oikawa.

He sure was aggressive. You bit your lip and watched him stretch from the bleachers.

"But I heard he's actually crazy."

The other girls on your team would never understand what possessed you to put yourself in danger, going after the most deviant of guys you could find. It was an endearing joke amongst the team, at this point, but they did worry for your safety.

"What's his name?" You looked to them for the first time, mind already made up.

Whispers of Kentarou, Kyoutani, Maddog, were shared as you settled back to watching him. Lots of horror stories of him getting in trouble, getting into fights, yelling at teachers, other students, getting suspended for a time all encouraged you. The nickname he earned made you significantly more fascinated.

You could fix him. It would at least be fun to try.

You couldn't help but ponder where his true fault lied, how it twisted into so much unwarranted aggression.

Was he not held as a baby? Did he have a bad home life? Had it manifested into some kind of sexual dysfunction? You wondered if he was this big of a presence in the bedroom. You smiled at the strong possibility that he wasn't.

Maybe that was a bit Freudian of you to assume, but your previous diagnoses hadn't steered you wrong yet. The guys you slept with were all weirdos- losers- psychos- and yet, they were all a step closer to normal after a little love.

They couldn't stop you from approaching, especially when nobody had the guts to go anywhere near him.

"Hi," You tapped his shoulder after a bout of hesitation.

He looked to the side, then behind, and realized you were referring to him.

His brow fell from its subtle version of surprise, making all his features look heavier, meaner-- you shuddered.

"Yo." Was all he said.

Though dismissive and already uncomfortable, it was enough to work with.

You smoothed out your uniform with a nervous sigh, "Um- I'm sorry if this is forward, but,"

"I think you're really cute. I'd like to go on a date, sometime."

Kentarou looked angry even when he was shocked. The dark around his eyes made it impossible to look soft, and it seemed he didn't have the capacity to smile yet.

The only way you could deduce that he was embarrassed was the way his hands balled into fists at his sides, how he looked around your face over, over, and over again for an ounce of insincerity.

It was adorable. You giggled at his long silence.

Laughing shut him down. His mouth curled in a sneer, positive you were laughing at him.

The gaggle of girls, filling the entrance to the gym, all clad in your uniform, wasn't great for optics. It looked like you were playing a prank on him.

"Are you kiddin' me?" He rolled his eyes before you could even try to explain, "Go fuck yourself."

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Though you loved your team, visible swarms of women never put the guys you went after at ease.

That rejection was still tame for what you had seen before from him.

He put his back to you and crossed his arms, watching the game, instead. Getting benched and made fun of couldn't have been a great feeling.

Determined now, you shook out your nerves and tapped his shoulder again.

"Tch-! I said fuck off!" He scowled down at you, but you knew it was misguided. So it didn't hurt as bad.

You purposefully didn't mirror his body language- you didn't want him to cut him off even more. You stood facing him at an angle, trying to catch his eye and take his attention again.

Voice quiet, sweeter, genuine, "I'm serious."

Even if this was a joke, you were the most persistent he had ever seen. Nobody usually got this far. If he told somebody to leave, they did. Especially after the second time, and a girl, at that.

"I mean- I get it if you're not into short girls, that's totally fine," You fixed your hair, glancing away from his overwhelmed, slow expression, "But, please, just... think about it. Here's my number."

For a moment, you were unsure if he would take the paper in your hand. He gave you zero indication that he believed your story, but after just enough time to make you doubt, he took it.

Kentarou held it tight, confused, as you joined your team to leave the gym. He watched them look over and preen you like birds to make sure you weren't hurt.

It could've been a real confession. The gravity of it didn't truly land until he was back home, looking up the girls' team Instagram to find your personal handle. You were following the page and even had a few features in their posts.

Doubts began to grow that it was your real number. He decided he didn't want to use it.

Instead, he lay on his bed, palming himself to the poses of your greatest receives- you were such a pretty girl, with a nice body, cute face--reminded of those things now, it only made him more skeptical at your choice to speak to him.

Luck was on his side once again, because your own profile was public. You even had a few beach posts. Lots of likes, lots of followers. You wouldn't notice if he liked a few of them, unless you were being honest about your interest.

You were all over his signals in a flash.

A follow, a bit of page-stalking that got you nowhere (because he had 0 online presence, other than a couple blank accounts), and a long string of messages that went deep into the night, all earned you a date.

Now that the game had officially begun, you needed to curate each move carefully. If you waited too long to take advantage of any clear signs of interest, he wouldn't find you worth the trouble. You needed some dick.

Kentarou was lonely, too.

It was as you suspected, monitoring him during that practice match. People who had a good support system didn't act that way he did.

He wasn't wistful, or desperate, and didn't invite friendship. Shit, he barely let you court him, and the only way you could convince him to meet you for coffee was if you sent a few pictures 'to prove it was just you.' And yet, after the one misunderstanding, he didn't deny you any opportunity to get close.

His experiences shaped him to be incredibly firm, mistrusting, and overly cautious, yes; It all fell short though, when it came to the very simple, universal longing for companionship.

The cafe wasn't too quiet, thankfully.

You were most worried about the possibility of him causing some sort of commotion and being asked to leave, but other patrons were lively enough to drown him out, if he did raise his voice.

To your surprise, that also wasn't much of an issue.

He ordered for the two of you, even -begrudgingly- accepting that you wanted a more intricate drink, too. He didn't let you do much for yourself. When he told you to go find a seat while he waited at the counter, you stayed with him so you could be close. He still didn't argue.

Though he wasn't polite, he wasn't a monster. He was just brimming with attitude, and that rubbed people the wrong way. When unprovoked, he was mean-looking, sure, but docile.

A predatory gaze watched the skirt of your casual dress flutter up- just a little, not quite enough- as you sat down next to him with your elaborate drink in hand. He set his cup down and you felt his leg flex as you closed the distance to snuggle up to him.

"You're taking this joke pretty far."

Insecurity filled the quiet between his words, and it took a sensitive ear to detect under all the venom. Was he testing you? Probably. Was he still trying to protect himself? Absolutely.

"Mm," You considered how to respond while sipping on your coffee, staring forward, not really minding his intensity, "I don't have the kind of time to go on fake dates, you know."

It was an argument less emotional in nature, but due to its legitimacy, it left him stumped enough to drop the subject.

In its wake remained discomfort. Mostly at your thigh, busy rubbing against him as you pretended to be more invested in the ambience of the cafe, or the flavor of the drink in your hands.

"What're you doing it for?" He pressed, different, but still carried with a grumbly, shitty attitude he always spoke in.

That took some getting used to, but once you understood he just talked that way, you were able to take his words at face value and waste less time miscommunicating.

A warm hand, palming the squish of your bare thigh encouraged your desire to be honest.

You waited for him to stop scanning the cafe, for the right moment to tell him.

His eyes dipped first to your pretty thighs, all soft and warm and new in his hand. Then he was taken by the all the sweetness in the way you looked at him.

"I wanna sleep with you."

You expected him to not believe you, like the first time, but his surprise was now pretty conventional.

His mouth hung open, just a little, and you noticed a tongue piercing. How did you miss it before? Did he not wear it at school? Your thighs tightened and he met it with a firm squeeze as he took a sobering drink of his coffee.

It was obvious he wanted to know why. But he was looking for something better to say, instead.

"The fuck are we doing here?"

That was a good question. Such a good question, in fact, that after a bit of conversation about where to go to fuck, you landed on going back to your place.

He made himself comfortable on your bed as you shut the door and locked it, just in case. Your room didn't have a whole lot of conversation starters, so he took a while to really examine it.

He wasn't witty, or spontaneous, or chatty.

There was no value in sitting around, acting like you wanted to delve into a discussion about each other's families, or grades, or volleyball.

His brow softened as you dropped the straps of your dress down.

There was a small attempt to look you in the eye, which you appreciated in a very limited context, but once you kept going, he might as well have been wearing a collar.

A half-sigh, half-laugh pushed out of his open mouth, brow furrowed again, as he tried to speak a few times while you posed for him, drunk on such a cute, endearing reaction.

There were a lot of things for him to think about. You could almost smell the smoke of grinding gears when you stood in front him and rubbed your hands against his shoulders.

He kept getting his fill, eyes unable to stay in one place too long, practically trying to back up so he could keep looking at all of you.

You giggled, "Kentarou?"

His breath stopped. You couldn't feel it, tingling across your skin, anymore.

You took some fingers to his curly hair, playing with it, "Aren't you gonna touch me?"

"I-," He didn't know what to do with himself for a moment, "Where?"

Your charmed, bitten back smile made his ears bright, bright red. Instead of telling him, you settled onto his lap and felt for his hands, gently guiding them towards your hips.

It was slow, natural, and gentle how you decided to kiss him.

You could feel how heated he was, with one hand on the back of his neck, the other cooling off the side of his face. One second to part for some breath, which he needed, badly- you waited for him to say something.

But he was forcing his mouth back onto yours quicker than you thought he would- his fingers dug into your flesh, and he brought you down onto his hard-on with a sudden loss of reservation.

It didn't take long to start catching that little tongue piercing against your lip- you groaned against his mouth, "Fuck, I really like that."

He was a fast, eager, and very rough learner. Kentarou was also laughably easy to please, because it was obvious he had no preferences built up yet. Everything you did left him stunned and hungry.

You reveled in your private victory and helped him undress. He wasn't shy about his own body, but you made it clear that he had a nice figure by taking the time to kiss along his muscular arm, then shoulder, and up to his neck.

His quickness to mirror you, kissing the same places on your body, was cute. He never once smiled, but he showed his investment in other ways.

When you offered to 69, he immediately fell onto his back from his upright position, rubbing his warm face.

A weak, "Yes," from under his palms was all you got, but it was so sweet from a guy like him. He sounded broken in, in a way.

You pressed a deserving kiss to his jaw and turned around.

His cock looked just as angry as he was, normally. Twitchy, leaking a bit of precum on his toned tummy, tinged dark with the all the time it had been waiting.

"You're- so fuckin' wet," He sounded stunned to say that aloud, understand what it actually meant, and that he was obsessed with it.

You smiled and pressed a kiss to the base of his cock as you settled into a good position.

How long had it been since you got laid? Apparently too long, because you were dripping with anticipation at the salty taste of his tip sliding past your teeth.

That was the downside of having such a specific type. Not many options.

He was still figuring out how to use his own mouth when you took the breath out of him- a strangled gasp at the sound, the sensation of your lips and tongue sucking off the slickness there. You held him by the base, briefly.

"You should let me know if you like it," You teased, just before bobbing your head back down.

"Mm-mmnh-! Fuck! Do I-ahh, have to?"

With that whiny tone?

You slowly came back up, careful to leave no spit behind. He was flexing in your jaw, his stomach twitching against your chest. Poor thing wouldn't last very long, he was so sensitive.

"Uhh, yes," You grinned, tongue darting out to lick him all the way down his shaft.

"Fuuuck- whatever- augh, just keep doin' that," His groan broke into a murmur of sorts, against your pussy.

From there, he was starting to find what worked with you. It was curious, and not great, but you didn't need it to be; something about the clingy way he held you, the shift in his attitude, was making you feel like you could take him already.

It made your nails dig, deep into his thighs, your already sparse breath grow a bit shorter.

Though his desperate tone and slow, gentle tongue made some parts of you tighten, it helped your throat relax and take more of him.

He started to come apart long before you wanted to be done.

Breathy, incomplete "Stopstop-sta-aah," every twenty seconds flattered you, letting you take more frequent breaks to ride his face and break in that little metal ball.

You thought about his nickname during one of these breaks. It was one of those instances where it seemed fitting, but for more than just surface-level aggression.

Nothing about him scared you. Not after you showed him that you had no ill-intention. He was like a dog. He wasn't vicious because it was in his nature; he just had a thorn in his paw.

He 'bit' people because they didn't give him a chance.

All of these chances you were giving him proved that he was worth all the effort to get close. It wasn't even much work, in hindsight.

You showed him the mechanics of the condom you brought for the occasion, and managed to talk him through some important sex-centered courtesies.

"So, y'know, you'll want to yield to whatever she's ready for--,"

Kentarou kept you from sitting on his cock, for just a second-- his eyes grew narrow, darting around your face.

"You mean: 'you.'" He corrected.

He looked like he was about to bite through your face.

"Right!" You smiled, growing a bit warm at your inconsiderate slip in language, "Yeah, of course."

Your apologetic kisses, smattered all along his sensitive face and neck, calmed him. His grip softened, slowly, as he became convinced that this was sacred again.

As you started to take him, he forgot all about it.

"Aughh- my go-d," He couldn't stop watching where you came together with a knotted brow, at how slick, and tight, and hot you were.

Your confidence read in the form of slow, rolling motions of your hips, the cloudy look in your eyes as you were finally getting filled up again after such a dry spell of no dick. You put your hands over his, already on your hips, and encouraged him to squeeze harder.

"Mmn-ah-h," You placed your hands on his chest, to keep yourself upright.

It hurt, how much he reciprocated that squeeze, but you quickly learned to like the sting.

Like most everything else, he replicated what you showed him. He started fucking you back, his hips able to take you faster, harder--

The pretty little pout on your lips was enough to make him screw his eyes shut, just to try to settle down.

He was getting so worked up at your tight little cunt that he was forced to let you keep your slower pace, contribute a little less, for fear he'd finish too soon.

His breath was like a stutter- so shallow and huffy that you rubbed your hand across his cheek, to check if he was okay. As you did this, the look in his eyes burned into the back of your skull.

You had seen that somewhere before. Not in someone you knew personally.

"Mm-mnh-!"

You were careful not to look away from it, and you only closed your eyes when it was too intense, too good to see straight.

The way he gripped you was like a lifeline, clawing, leaving rough and raised lines across you-- It wasn't intended to hurt, but more or less to make sure he left you with some lasting impression. He didn't understand that he didn't need to do it.

He couldn't take the concern on your face. Not as you fucked him so close, not with that perfect body taking his cock so well. Nobody ever looked at him with so much warmth.

"Ah! Just- just like that," You gasped, shaky all of a sudden.

"Fuck-," He sighed, suddenly having to remember what exactly he was doing.

He grimaced, face twisted in the pain of trying not to cum, head thrown back so he didn't have to look at you.

But your hand left his chest to grasp him by the jaw- it wasn't hard, but it was enough to move him. You begged him to look at you. You wanted him to watch you, and it looked like he was just short of a confessing something sinful.

Worship.

That's what you saw. In those narrowed eyes were praise, an exaltation of the love you had spared for him.

It filled you with a dizzying, raw confidence- you took in a breath through your nose, getting railed so hard, so close that your eyes started watering.

"Fuck- I'm-Ah--!" You couldn't quite finish your sentence before you crashed over, your body seized up, firm, grabbing and gripping him like you needed, wanted him so bad.

It left him a groveling, panting mess underneath you. He was watching in awe just like you told him to, only allowed to cum after you were done.

He fucked it all out of you, thanks to the timing. Your slow wave-riding kept you pleasant and buzzed as he fucked you hard for his own orgasm.

You even egged him on, breathless, a little smirk only interrupted by a pleasurable wince a couple of times.

"You wanna cum for me?"

"Yeah? Yeah?"

After finishing so loud and performative, nothing could have prepared you for how cuddly and silent he got.

You shouldn't have given into the desire to hug him, because he wouldn't let you move to pull him out.

"Mm-mm," Was pressed in a sloppy kiss against your neck.

Those muscular arms were shaking a little, just barely, around your waist.

"I'm- not going anywhere," You laughed, returning a few light kisses against his temple, "But we need to clean up."

He made it difficult, almost impossible, to separate and throw the condom away. You opted to just tie in a knot and throw it closer to the trash can so you didn't have to get up.

The way he watched you was careful, intense, looking for any opening to get closer to you again.

You finally sighed, smiling, "Okay."

Kentarou pulled you back down to lay next to him at the soonest opportunity. He kept an arm heavy over your chest, his leg kicked between yours, his eyes never leaving the side of your face.

His intensity was what you signed up for, but now, warm under his persistent and acute attention, you realized: maybe you hadn't thought this through the whole way.

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@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

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[stellasdrafts]

The Light in His Eyes (Vendetta! Leon)

Summary: you have each other’s backs (Vendetta! Leon x DSO!Reader)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: alcoholism (on Leon’s part), some vendetta leon comfort because that man needs it :(, no official relationship but mutual feelings are implied, pining…

Notes: a small Christmas-ish one-shot in january because it’s my blog and i make the rules (i forgot to post in december whoops). also sorry this one is christmas specific but christmas lights are very special to me and i wanted to write a little something about them <3

One of these days, these missions are going to kill you. You’re sure of it. You find yourself sitting on a rooftop overlooking the city, needing some fresh air after almost getting your head bitten off on call today. Being a D.S.O. agent isn’t for the faint-hearted and truth be told, sometimes you aren’t sure how you got this far in the first place. You close your eyes, deeply breathing in the cold, stuffy city air and listening to the night traffic below. What would it be like to live a normal, quiet life? For your only burden to be being stuck in the traffic below on your way home from your safe nine to five? Your heart aches when you have thoughts like these…

You’re snapped out of your mournful contemplation when someone clears their throat behind you. You whip your head around, startled. You barely register your fists clenching and muscles tensing up, ready to throw a punch or something, your tired brain registering the sound as the grunt of an infected.

“S’just me.” Leon lifts his hands, traipsing toward you. “Can I join?”

Your shoulders slump with relief. Truth be told, you wanted to spend time alone tonight, but Leon happens to be the one who saved your life today and you figure you owe him this much. “Mhm.” You nod and pat the freezing concrete beside you.

He takes the offered seat and leans back, propping himself on his arms. His warmth carries through the cold wind and seeps through your jeans. He’s only an inch or two away, after all. Despite your previous sentiment, his presence is oddly soothing. You’ve never met anyone as good as him in your field of work. He makes you feel safe, like somehow, you’re immortal in his presence because he always looks out for his team. It’s impossible, really. You know it’s a childish and dangerous mindset to have in this line of work, but there’s just something about him. You wonder how much that selflessness is destroying him from the inside….

Actually, the habituality of the liquor on his breath may already give you an idea.

“Quite a view, isn’t it?”

“Hmm?” You look up at him, noticing how his eyes are fixed on the sea of tall buildings before you. “Oh, yeah… I like the lights. I’ve always liked lights.”

A grin tugs at his lips. “Oh yeah?” He shifts to rest on one knee to get a better look at you.

You feel yourself melt under the older agent’s gaze. “Yeah. All kinds of lights…”

He just watches you for a moment and you find yourself silently cursing the extensive psychology training the government’s had you D.S.O. agents do. You’re sure he can read you like a book, seeing through the façade you’ve been tirelessly trying to keep up. He has his own, after all.

He looks out at the few festive lights wrapped around balcony railings and trees standing proudly in windows. “Like… Christmas lights?”

That reaches you. You turn your head to look at him with a dopey smile. “Especially Christmas lights. I miss them a lot.”

Your nostalgia must be contagious because he smiles at you too. You never see him smile anymore. In your few years of working together, you’ve never known him to be an extraordinarily sunny man, but it had worsened recently. Little to your knowledge, he likes seeing you smile, especially when it’s directed at him. “I didn’t know you liked Christmas so much. Maybe I should buy you a tree and some lights this year,” he jokes lightly.

You shrug, your smile fading a bit. “We never stay in one place long enough… And people don’t celebrate as much as when we were kids. It wouldn’t be the same.”

His expression softens considerably when he notices the shift in your demeanour. His lips pull into a much more familiar tight frown, his shoulders dropping a bit as well. “Yeah, I guess so…” he pauses for a moment, debating his next words. “We could make our own tradition, you know?”

You tilt your head, your smile fully sarcastic and sour now. “Sure. If we’re both still alive by holiday break.”

He grimaces, evidently not liking the sudden grim attitude, even if it carries truth. Ironic, you find yourself thinking, for a man with his attitude. “Don’t talk like that,” he chides softly, wrapping an arm behind you and dragging you a twinge closer. “I’m not letting you die anytime soon.”

And you know that coming from his lips, that’s a vow, not a weak promise. You lean into his warmth, the cold wind hitting you again now that you’re no longer in your cozy bubble of colourful lights and denial. “Right. Sorry…”

“It’s alright.” He gives your side a reassuring squeeze and resumes staring out at the dark skyline.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a minute or two, admiring (perhaps longingly) the people going about their lives in their apartments and offices. Parents putting their children to bed, couples cooking together, families watching what you self-indulgingly believe to be holiday movies in their decorated living rooms… Even the young man working alone at this hour of the night seems to sit with some sense of serenity. All possibilities of the lives you and Leon could have had if you hadn’t been pushed into the claws of the genius Division of Security Operations. He sighs – if in soul-crushing envy or in momentary peacefulness, you can’t tell. But his whiskey-ridden breath is warm and a welcome contrast to the cool winter night air.

You chew at your lip, getting a bit nervous. “You smell like booze,” you remark quietly.

“I know.” He chuckles and you know it’s a piss-poor attempt to cover how uncomfortable the topic of his drinking makes him feel. “You got a problem with that?” He scratches his neglected stubble.

You know a slightly hostile question is the best outcome for you. If it were anyone else starting an intervention, we would’ve raised his voice already. You’ve seen it first-hand with some other people on the team. “You’ve got a problem with that, Leon.” You stare blankly at the buildings ahead, your previous fascination and warmth for the sight dampened.

You feel Leon’s body stiffen beside you and his demeanour shifts. You look, and like you, he no longer seems as placated as he was a mere minute ago. His brows tug down and his gaze darkens. “Don’t do that. Not you,” his tone is surprisingly tender for being paired with his current expression.

He knows you mean well. He knows you’re worried about him. But he can’t bear having you look at him like everyone else does, like you have to tiptoe around him or like he’s always incompetent and inebriated. He looks away out of shame. He knows you’re right, but he’s stubborn and also knows that’s led to his downfall more than once.

“Are you even going to remember this tomorrow?”

Leon looks back up, his gaze stormy. His defensiveness gets the best of him, as it usually does in these situations. He’s angry, or at least he’s trying to be. But you’re sitting close enough to spot the gleam of self-hatred in those beloved blue eyes. “Why does it matter if I do or not?”

“Because believe it or not, our conversations actually mean a lot to me.” The weight of your words hangs between the pair of you for a moment. “And it’s dangerous to day drink with a job like ours. We never know when we’ll get called out. It’ll get you killed,” you add to try and save face as if you don’t care more about him than you do the other agents.

He cringes a bit more at that, and his anger falters in favour of discomfort. He sighs and leans an elbow on his knee, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I appreciate the concern, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine.”

You tuck your knees up to your chest, even his body heat isn’t enough to cancel out the cold between you now. “That’s what worries me. You act like it’s fine, it’s normal. You don’t even act drunk anymore. You don’t… slur your words or stumble around or vomit everywhere. Apart from being angrier… depressed… you behave normally when you’re drunk.” You turn your body in his direction, trying desperately to get through to him. “You’re not even you anymore. Isn’t that scary?”

He exhales again, letting his hand drop from his face. He knows you’re right. Damn it, you’re always right, but he can never bring himself to admit it. “I… I don’t get what the big deal is. I do my job – well, if I might add. I don’t get into bar fights with random civilians… unless they ask for it. I supply my own drinks and keep to myself. So why’re you worrying?”

You take his face in your hands, your expression softening. Maybe he won’t lie to your face if he’s looking right at it. “Leon, drop the act, please.” From what you hear, he’s a shell of the person he used to be.

His eyes widen with surprise. He doesn’t answer anything for a few moments, your gentle touch making his mind go blank for a second. He can’t remember the last time anyone was gentle with him. He knows he can’t argue when you use that tone or when you have that look in your eye. “Fuck…”

He practically sags onto you as he lets himself feel everything he’s been drowning in alcohol for months. You have an agonizing way of making the tension in his body disappear with nothing but a few words in that honeyed tone of yours.

You support his weight. Like you always do, as he always does yours. Because it’s just Leon. You’d never let him fall, in any sense of the word. “You know, how are you supposed to put up that tree and the lights you offered me if you’re too drunk to make sense of anything? I’m not letting you in my room at HQ if the drinks are making you a grouch, either.”

He does want to give you that, a tree grand and worth being yours, pretty lights you can stare at while you doze off in the evenings, Christmas itself… More than anything, he wants to make you happy. The thought alone makes him happy. He huffs and looks away to hide his smile. “Yeah, yeah. Damn you.”

You let out a breath and a smile of your own, feeling relieved that you got to him at least a little bit. “Try again, please… At least to cut back. We can do it this time.”

He tenses again at your request. It’s not an easy one, and he’s reluctant to agree, not sure if he can even will himself to cut back so easily. But you’re too close, too warm, and you’re using that damn tone in your voice that always gets to him. He wants better for you. For himself, too. A shot at a better life. “I’ll try. Try. For you, alright?”

You hum. “That’s all I ask.” You bring up a delicate hand and brush some of that pesky hair out of his face.

He practically melts into your touch, too tired to bother hiding the effect you have on him. You both know something has been lingering between you for a while, anyway. “Anything else you want from me?” he mutters in a teasing tone, trying to lift the atmosphere he feels he ruined.

You chuckle lightly. “Probably, but we’ll work towards those things later on.”

He perks up at that, a smug smirk toying at his lips as he picks up on the implications of your words. “Y’gotta be a little more specific than that.”

Your eyes soften. Not now. Not like this. “I’ll tell you when you’re sober.” Your timbre isn’t unkind – it’s careful, genuine… You’re trying to encourage him more than anything, knowing he always fares well with a challenge or an end goal.

The muscles in his face ease as well. He gives a small nod. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You feel a spark in your chest of something you haven’t felt in a long time – hope. “So will I.”

You’re more determined than ever to bring back that light to his eyes.

[thequietkid-moonie]

Little things they do when they are in love

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Argenti, Boothill ]

[ Honkai Star Rail ]

This is a new thing I wanted to try, instead of making general relasionship headcanons I wrote random and cutie headcanons, I actually enjoyed writing this more so i wil keep doing it from now on!

Argenti

Always at the side to protect you with his body. Argenti holds his title as a knight with pride and honor and thats going to be show in his affection and love too, he vows his like to Idrila but he is your knight too, what kind of knight would he be if he isn't really to protect you? Whenever you two are out, even if there isn't really an obvious threaten he always walk in the side of the road more crowded

Treating you as if you were made of glass. He doesn't do it in the way that he is scare that he may hurt you but in the way that as if he were holding the most precious thing it has ever existed in the whole cosmos, everytime he touch you he does it with such gentleness and care, even if is in a dangerous situation when he holds you to shield you he is surprisingly gentle with his touch. Although, Argenti doesn't underestimate you, he is far from that, is just that you hold so much value for him that he can't let anything happen to you

Fixing your clothes. It isn't that he judge your aesthetic or that he is a perfeccionist, he is just really caring, he tent to pay a lot of attention to you so he end up noticing the small details like when you clothes or hair gets a little messy and he simply decided to fix it for you, for him is nothing really, is just a small little detail, he doesn't even expect you to thank him or even aknowledge it he just do it because he loves you and wants everyone to apreciate your beauty

Always greeting and saying goodbye. Even if the path of a knight of beauty is in loneliness now that you are in his life he holds your relationship with great value and honor, he still has work to do but always has time to be with you, thats why everytime you see each other there is always a beautiful greeting fit for a knight of beauty, as well as a temporary farewell everytime you have to part ways, always promising on his life to come back to you once his job is done. Argenti is actually so loyal that whenever he has to go somewhere without you he makes sure to tell you where exactly is he going and how much time it will take him approximately

Pampering you with affection and compliments. Argenti is not shy when it comes to affection, as a knight of beauty is his duty to recognize the beauty around the universe, and you are one of the most beautiful people he has ever seeing and he is not afraid to tell you, with him at your side your life will never lack of compliments and prasises but when it comes to physical affectionate he waits because he doesn't want to cross your bounduries by accident, still he is a big fan to take your cheeks on his hands and leave gentle kisses all over your face or gently take your hand in his to place a kiss on your knuckles (even kneeling down to do it like a true gentleman)

Boothill

Speaking a little louder. Its not his intention to come across as rude, he normally speak in a rather quiet tone since his style is to do his job and go, he only speak louder when he gets excited or when the battle gets more serious, whenever he is with you he feels comfortable and happy so he can't help but speaking just a little louder

Acting like a simple couple and forgeting about the world for a second. For being a galaxy ranger Boothill's life is always a rush, he does his job and leave the place so whenever he has the oportunity he like to simply slow down and enjoy your company, having at least a second to simply relax and enjoy still being alive, enjoy having you in his life

Learning and teaching. Since Boothill used to be a cowboy and now is a galaxy ranger he knows a lot about surviving and fighting, he wouldn't mind teaching you things like using a gun and, honeslty, he would be rather excited about it! As well, if there is anything you would like to teach him or even he gets interested on something you know how to do really well he will be happy to learn too, actually this quality time is incredibly comforting for him, it makes him feel human

Keeping and arm around you. Again, his life is constantly a rush and he gets lonely quite often, so whenever you two are together he likes having you as close as posible. Keeping an arm around your shoulders or waist have diferent purpose, first of all is a protective gesture, a way to remind you that he is here to protect you if you need it (he is your galaxy ranger after all), the reason he keeps as a secret and prefer to don't admit out loud is for the comfort, he had lost everything in a second already once so keeping you so close is to remind himself that you are really here, that you are at his side still breathing, that nothing bad had happened to you

Staring at your skin. The days of being a human cowboy are long lost and his new robotic body is an eternal reminder about what happened and what he has to do, he is quite troubled by the fact that his only soft skin is on his face so he just got the tendency to stare at your skin, he doesn't do it in a creepy way he just accedently zone out while staring at your skin, his mind going back to his lost past, but at the end he always apologize if he make you uncomfortable by it

Gift you flowers. Honeslty, those flowers are almost never bought on a flower shop, everytime Boothill bring you flowers those are ones that he had collected personally from the wild, for him those flowers hold a greater meaning than any other flowers he could bought, not only shows that he had went out of his way to collect them but also shows the beauty of a living planet. The flowers he always brings are diferent, small or big, with soft or bright colors, he likes vary from what flowers he brought you on the past and loves seeing your reaction for them (but gets really embarrassed if you point it out)

[silcobrainrot]

I was typing out a reply to this post and then I realized I lost the plot so bad that I didn't want to derail OP's point so here it is. OP's points that I'm reflecting on:

Zaun is a very fucked place with a very fucked system. He’s doing what he thinks needs to be done in order to at some point be able to rein it in and make it better. He wanted to give Zaun a fighting chance against Piltover. He wanted to make them equal. And in a place where there are no rules. And people talk with violence. You’re going to have to make some very awful choices in order to not only take control, but have enough power to fix it. He may not have been the one to change Zaun, but he’s raised the girl that could.

"but he’s raised the girl that could." SO fucking true and I wish s2 had let her. firing that rocket at the council was a promise to make their lives hell. i didn't need to see her as the leader of a movement but it would have been nice to see her enable and enact change just by being a powerful loose cannon. Act 1 almost gave us this but then she decided that Jinx was dead in ep 4 and then we don't see her do much of anything until she shows up to the battle in the finale. She could have spent the season being unhinged, having agency and making actual choices that have consequences for herself, Zaun, and Piltover (she was responsible for most of the inciting incidents in s1). The good consequences and the bad.

Let her run wild. Show her lose herself to her grief and anger and how much she misses him and how fucked all of this is. Then bring her back. Not in a redemption arc way, I don't think she needs that, but in a way where she finally understands what she wants her life to be. She mourns the loss, she comes out of her grief, she forgives herself for killing him because it's what he would have wanted, and for the first time ever, she gets to choose what her path in life will be. It's time to be her own person. She's not a hero, she'll never lose her enjoyment of violence and chaos, but she is no longer fueled by anger and hatred and vengeance.

Let Sevika use the stuff Jinx does on her own--avenging Silco and taking vengeance against Piltover--to lead a movement. Let Sevika struggle with keeping the people who worked under Silco loyal to the mission. Show us how Sevika got on good terms with Scar [the firelights' leader while Ekko was away] and what an alliance between the movement for change inspired by Jinx, and the firelights, could accomplish for Zaun. Bringing them hope that change is really possible. Getting them out of their homes and their "every man for himself" mentality and get them believing in something. Wanting more for themselves. Organizing. Community services. Shared resources. Fucking unionizing idk. We see so many of Zaun's worst people but there are normal people living in normal poverty just trying to get by down there, too. Show us the Zaun Silco had become so disconnected from due to isolation and obsession.

It started with Silco, despite how flawed his methods were and how they did so much damage to the Undercity. An evil he thought was necessary because he didn't know any other truth in life besides pain and misery. But it started with him, and it gets realized by his daughter and lieutenant. Sevika is probably the closest thing he had to a friend, who stuck by his side despite how much their methods were hurting the people they were trying to liberate. The people who worked closest to him, lived closest to him, and could see the flaws in both his methods and him as a man, finishing what he started.

But instead we get Jinx committing suicide and Sevika joining the council which. Jesus fucking christ I don't even want to get myself started on that bullshit. @wetnoodle thank you for the brain worm

[ultravjiolencee]

Can i request a fred weasley with maybe a reader from black family that doesn’t really like christmas? thank u so much!! (they’re not relatives and kinda in a relationship)

Weasley Warmth Delivery

a.n! thanks for requesting and sorry if this took me this long, but to be honest i still feel into christmas mood. i tried this new ‘format’ of exchanging letters! mention of my previous work

Dear y/n,

Well, look at that—a letter from Black. To what do I owe this honor? Boredom finally driving you mad in that haunted house of yours? Don’t worry, love, I’ve been expecting it.

Grimmauld Place isn’t exactly the Ministry of Fun, is it? And without me around to liven up the place, well, I’m amazed you lasted this long before reaching out.

First, let me set the scene for you here at the Burrow: total chaos, as usual. Mum’s been running around like a bludger on a sugar high, barking orders about decorating and cleaning things that were perfectly fine before she started. Ginny keeps nicking the fairy lights off the tree to “improve” her room (I think she’s trying to charm them to spell out something rude for Ron), and Percy’s been giving us all his patented look of disapproval. Honestly, I think he was born with that expression.

George and I, naturally, have been hard at work testing a few of our newest products. Let’s just say the garden gnomes had a very eventful morning and leave it at that.

But, enough about the Burrow, it’s too normal compared to what I’m imagining for you. I bet Grimmauld Place is a real barrel of laughs this time of year. Bet you’ve got Kreacher croaking out festive insults like, “Filthy blood traitor scum don’t deserve gingerbread.” Or maybe you’ve charmed those gloomy curtains shut tight so you don’t have to look at your delightful family tree. Is my name still scorched off that thing, by the way? If not, I’ll send George over to fix that. It’s our legacy, after all.

I wish I could say I don’t worry about you being there all by yourself, but you know me—I don’t do lying very well. (Or at all, according to mum. But then again, she doesn’t always appreciate my particular brand of honesty.) You’ve got that whole independent, “I don’t need anyone’s help” thing going on, and I get it. I do. But I can’t help wishing you’d pop over to the Burrow for Christmas. Mum would adore you, I promise. Well, she’d probably scold you for being “too thin” first, but that’s just part of the package deal. Once she’s fed you a month’s worth of food in two days, she’ll be absolutely besotted.

And before you go claiming I’m trying to recruit you to our family, let me clarify: yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Because family doesn’t have to be the lot you were born with.

You’ve got us now, whether you like it or not.

Now, enough of this sappy nonsense. You’ll start thinking I’m losing my edge. Let’s talk about important things—like me. Did I mention George and I managed to sneak a prototype of our newest invention past Mum? It’s called the “Crackling Cauldron Cake,” and it’s exactly as dangerous as it sounds. You bite into it, and it pops like a small Firework Charm in your mouth. George claims it’s “too risky for mass production,” but I say he’s lost his Gryffindor nerve. (He was almost a Hufflepuff, you know. Don’t tell him I told you that.)

Oh, and speaking of risky ventures—have you heard from the “adorable” bunch at Hogwarts? Lee says everyone’s still whispering about us switching ties that morning. Apparently, there’s now a theory that we were secretly meeting in the Forbidden Forest for mysterious reasons. Honestly, they’re creative. I’ll give them that. Maybe we should encourage the rumors. Keep them on their toes, you know?

Alright, I should wrap this up before the owl starts biting me again. (Did you train this thing to attack, or is that just a natural Black family trait?) But seriously, don’t be a stranger. Owl me again, even if it’s just to complain about how miserable it is without me around. I’ll write back—promise. And if you’re feeling really brave, you’re always welcome here. I’ll even let you beat me at Wizard’s Chess again, just to keep things festive.

Take care of yourself, alright? And if Grimmauld Place starts feeling too cold, just think of this letter as a little Weasley warmth delivered right to your doorstep.

Yours (because I’ve decided you’re mine to pester now),

Fred

P.S. If you don’t write back soon, I’m sending George over to prank your front door. You’ve been warned ;)

[igotanidea]

The talk : Dick Grayson X reader ( with Bruce Wayne)

A/n : it's a snippet, I might consider writing it fully

Warning: suggestive but not explicit

Summary: it's time for the bees and bird talk with Dick

***

Bruce walking in on a young adult! Dick and his girlfriend y/n getting cosy between the sheets.

Obviously, as a normally functioning adult and a father, even if just a foster one, the batman takes it upon himself to have a talk about bees and birds with his favourite son.

He got it all planned out, schemed, thought out to avoid surprises and misunderstandings.

He actually had the contingency plans from A to Z drafted for a while, only hoping that those would never come to use.

Unfortunately, seeing y/n, with her blouse undone, hair a mess and Dick's hands (and apparently more) on her, forces Bruce to retreat to hide the blush creeping on. The last piece of his dignity is gone and he is pretty sure there's no good way to recover from such a failure.

He had reached the ultimate botttom.

"Hey B, you good?" Hours later Dick found him in the batcave, engrossed in some feigned, quickly fixed work. It was too easy to figure he would hide there to avoid seeing or - god forbid - hear anything.

"Hm."

"You wanted to talk to me about something, didn't you?" He grinned, delighting in a way Bruce seemed to develop an eye twich.

"Hm".

"Great. I got some time before I get back to y/n, so?"

"Get back?" Bruce turned to face his son and immediately regretted it. He seriously wished to erase the sight of lipstick and love bites on his neck.

"Something wrong?" Once more dick flashed a smile, trying to force a reaction out of Bruce.

"hm."

"we're being safe"

"Amazing"

"and she's okay with it"

"Great"

"And I've studied female anatomy so I know a thing or two about --"

Oh dear lord...

"Dick." Bruce was an inch from having a spasm. How ironic it would turn out to be if gotham lost its protector because of certain golden boy growing up.

"hey did you know that --"

"Get out, Dick."

"But I thought you wanted to--"

"I said get out"

"-talk?"

"I believe you got it all wrong. It was Alfred. Yes. Alfred wanted to talk to you. Not me."

"You sure about it B? You want me to talk to Alfred about -"

"yes. Absolutely. Now go. I'm sure time is of essence"

"it is. Though Alfred took some time off, thanks to your generosity, Bruce. So I'll go, sure, but I've already got so many questions that I don't want to search online and--"

"Dick?" Y/n voice sounded dangerously close to the batcave entrance "Where are you? I'm gonna have to go soon and I need a proper goodbye --"

"coming!!!" Dick yelled rushing off the room " great talk, Bruce. We'll continue it later."

Dick left and Bruce was finally able to let out a groan. The masterplanner forgot to acknowledge the fact that sweet kids tend to turn into feral, hormonal young adults and require actual upbringing.

***

"you're so mean to him, you know that?" Y/m muttered, once again with his lips on hers

"mean? Who, me? Ouch! You're hurting my heart here princess."

"you are. He could easily be a DILF, yet is alone and you're tormenting him."

"but if you saw the look on his face --"

"you're only proving my point of you being mean".

"I'm sure he'll get some, some day--"

"but still- mmm!"

"I remind you that you enabled the plan baby.... Played quite an important part in it." Dick started kissing her a little harder, not even trying to hide where he was heading. "Wonder why that is..."

"cause you're also a -- ohh!"

"you were saying?" He smirked, looking up at her.

"-prick"

"Am I?" His hands moved where she liked it "what else?"

"liar..." She gasped. While it was true he didn't tell her why he invited her over and that his father was in, his movements were serving as a pretty good apology.

Even if knowing Dick it was obviously also a way to boost his ego and prove his point and complete his twisted and deranged plan.

"you know what, I've already had one talk, I don't really need another.... Rather keep my lips occupied with something else --"

***

Bruce came out of the batcave only after making sure it was safe.

Mentally cursing himself for having not one, but four boys under his care.

Which meant that this - whatever it was-- was about to happen again.

[junixscribble]

Old Friends (And Better Company)

The old Viktor Machine Herald design spins in my head like a rotisserie chicken so here u go <3

Title: Old Friends (And Better Company)

WC: 1563w

Summary: Some things you can't fix on your own, and there's only one person Viktor trusts enough to go digging around his insides. Unfortunately, Jayce is also a pest.

----------

Jayce didn’t turn when he heard the door of his lab open - he figured it was Mel or Caitlyn trying to pull him away from his work again.

“I’ve told you I’m in crunch mode right now, I can’t go out.” He said with half a smile on his face.

“Were you expecting me, Jayce?” A metallic, accented voice responded and Jayce’s smile froze on his face. He turned slowly to see the Machine Herald standing in front of his door, quietly latching it shut. 

“How did you get in here?” Jayce asked, hostile. The Herald shrugged.

“You never changed the code. And your security system is child's play.” 

The burning orange eyes of the Herald’s mask left no room for conversation, and Jayce sighed. He wasn’t going to fight today.

“At least take off the mask, V. What do you need?” 

If Viktor could emote through a metal visage Jayce would have seen surprise on his face at the ease of his question. He was expecting resistance, especially after recent events. Viktor raised a hand to his mask and hesitated - it had been a while since he’d shown his face to anyone. He pressed the divots on either side of the mask down and it unlatched with a soft hiss.

Viktor set his mask down on a bench and Jayce let out a soft oh at his appearance. His hair was longer, but still endearingly soft and messy pushed back from his face. Metal covered his skin up to his cheekbones, and one of his eyes had been replaced with a mechanical version. The glowing orange ring of the eye nearly matched the honey-hazel of his remaining eye, and Jayce could only remark that after months it was still him. It was still his Viktor under the mask. 

“I have a problem I can’t fix on my own.” Viktor started, and his voice was the same as Jayce remembered, if not a little scratchy from disuse. “Some wiring was shaken loose during a fight, and I can patch it but can’t fix it. It controls the use of one of my arms and the Hexclaw, which I have to turn off in order to mend it. So… I’m down a few hands.”

Jayce almost laughed at the comment, but a sharp look from Viktor silenced him. “Why come to me? I’m sure you have plenty of Zaunite mechanics itching to help you.”

Viktor looked uncomfortable for a minute, unwilling to make eye contact. “I trust only you with this.” 

Jayce stilled. “After everything we’ve done to each other? What I’ve done to you?”

A single look from Viktor gave Jayce the answer he needed, so he stood and started clearing off one of the benches. 

“Alright, old friend. Let’s take a look.” 

Viktor took off his cloak and double checked the door was locked before laying down on the table, pulling his right arm over his head to give Jayce access to his side. He concentrated for a minute and Jayce watched the Hexclaw and his arm go completely limp.

“You‘ll need to pop the casing off the side of my torso. I’ve turned off the arms, but left nerve activity so I can tell you if something isn’t right. Don’t worry about anything hurting.” 

Jayce caught hesitation in Viktor’s last words so he set his screwdriver down and looked at him.

“Viktor. I have no intention of causing you pain. If something hurts I am going to stop and make sure you’re okay, and then find another way.” 

Viktor had no answer for him, just stared at the ceiling. Jayce frowned, but continued, 

“I’ll get the casing off now.”

After less than an hour the two of them were back to a semblance of what once was normal. Ideas for improvements were bouncing off each other, solutions to problems were being formed and true to his promise Jayce had never caused so much as a twinge in Viktor’s nerve receptors. Viktor almost found himself smiling, happy and content in the familiar routine but it was tinged with sadness. They caught up as well as they could, Jayce filling Viktor in on Caitlyn’s escapades and Viktor telling him about some advances he’d made in undercity prosthetics. 

“You know, I can’t believe no one ever tried- aCK!” Viktor interrupted himself, jerking one of his legs on the table. Jayce immediately stopped what he was doing, pulling the pliers out of Viktor’s side and holding his hands up.

“Whoa, you okay? Did that hurt?”

Viktor stared straight ahead and tried to ignore the traitorous heat in his face. He’d have to try and get rid of that soon.

“Fine. That wasn’t painful.” 

Jayce’s initial panic morphed into curiosity and he tilted his head, examining Viktor’s now flushed face. 

“… no way.” He said, a grin growing on his face. “You’re still ticklish, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Viktor steadfastly ignored Jayce’s eager expression.

“You sure? Cause that sounded like it tickled.” Jayce picked up his pliers and found the spot again, making Viktor choke down a giggle. 

“Oh my gods, after all this time you haven’t found out how to stop being ticklish? It even translated between the old you and the metal - I swear you had a bad spot on your ribs around here…” Jayce joked, prodding around which made Viktor yell and squirm. 

“Fucking- stop that! It’s a complex function that is surprisingly difficult to counteract.”

“So you’ve tried to turn it off?”

“… not concentratedly. You can imagine it’s not the highest on my list of priorities.”

Jayce raised his eyebrows at Viktor. “Maybe you didn’t want to turn it off.” He muttered under his breath.

Viktor started yelling at him and Jayce threw his hands up in defence. “What? We used to have fun, that’s all! Regardless, you’ve done a number on yourself and the wires around that point are tangled. I need to remove and resolder a bunch of them, so you’re gonna have to put up with it.”

“You promised not to hurt me!”

“I did. I never promised anything about tickling.” 

Viktor grumbled under his breath but seemed to resign himself to his fate. “Well, get going. I don’t have all night.”

Jayce got back to work with a smirk, dutifully started to unhook wires from where they had gotten stuck in gears and each other. Viktor had gone silent, and when Jayce looked up he had his eyes squeezed shut and was biting his lip, trying not to give in to the feeling. Just to be a dick, Jayce stuck his screwdriver in his side and wiggled, single-handedly breaking the dam Viktor had built. He jerked again, cackling and swearing.

Satisfied, Jayce refrained from commenting and got back to work to a soundtrack of laughter. This was fine until Viktor started wriggling around on the table in earnest, making it very hard for Jayce to move things accurately. 

“Stop squirming, you ticklish motherfucker.” Jayce couldn’t help teasing. Viktor made an angry face before losing it again.

“Fuhuck off fuck off fuck ohohohff!” 

“Seriously, if you don’t stop moving I’m going to have to hold you down. I’m sure I’ve got some strong magnets around here somewhere.”

“Mahagents? You think magnets are ehenough to hoahaAHA!” 

Viktor accidentally kicked a dent in the table and nearly shrieked when Jayce hit a particularly sensitive spot, trying desperately to resist the sensations ravaging his body. 

“Huhuhrry up! Cahan’t - AH! Cahan’t hohold out under thihis much tihickling!” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll go as fast as I can.”

Despite Jayce’s best efforts Viktor left a few more dents in his bench, truly unable to hold back under the hands of someone who knew him as well as he knew himself. 

“I think that’s the ticklish part done.” Jayce said, pulling out his pliers and cocking his head. “Actually, I think that’s the whole thing done. Try turning your arm on.” 

Viktor caught his breath before concentrating again, switching the limbs on. It felt ten million times better, and he caught himself sighing in relief. 

“It’s fixed. You have no idea how bad the feeling of your wires getting caught in the surrounding gears is. Thank you. Even if you could have been a little more tactful about it.” Viktor added.

Jayce rolled his eyes as he reattached the casing. “I think it was gonna be that bad no matter what. Still, it was nice to catch up without… well, you know. Trying to kill each other.” 

Viktor sat up and pulled his cloak over his shoulders. “It was. I hope our paths may cross again someday.” 

Jayce smiled and nodded, but the pulling in his chest told him a different story. He missed him terribly. Viktor picked up his mask and hooked it on his face, pushing it upwards so it wasn’t yet covering him while he walked to the window. Jayce followed him and watched while he pulled himself over the ledge and onto the railing.

“Goodbye, Jayce.”

Jayce met him at the window ledge. “See you later, Viktor.” 

Before Jayce could react, soft lips were on his for a heartbeat before they were gone. 

“I never stopped loving you.” Viktor whispered shakily, and then he pulled down his mask and disappeared into the night air. Jayce held a hand to his lips, frozen.

“Neither did I.”

[kngrose]

Bully!sevika with reader and the fawn response. Reader that instead of fighting tries to appease sevika. Instead of trying to run away clings on harder. That does everything she's told. Reader that internalizes sevika's insults can even predict them before she even says them, calling herself useless and a waste of space. Reader that doesn't even raise her hands to shield herself anymore.

bully! sevika

when reader has a fawn response

WARNINGS: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. mentions of harassment, bullying, manipulation, general abusive themes

from roselí ᡣ𐭩 : anonnnnnnnnn. i love your brain.

Sevika would have mixed feelings about this this. Of course, there’s something wholly satisfying about the fact that you submit to her willingly— though she would make you do that regardless— even going as far as to make the job easier for herself.

But there’s a part of her that craves the fight, the challenge, the need to break something.

At first, she found it amusing.

She prides herself on being able to break people, to see them fold under pressure and end up scurrying away at aby given opportunity. But you? You never fight back. Never lash out, or run. Instead, you cling to her. Even as her harsh words cut deeper than a blade, or her hands gifted you another bruise, nothing. No scampering, no fire behind the eyes.

You fold under her like paper in the rain. When she barks an order, you dont hesitate. When she sneers at you, you nod along like you deserved it. Like a pathetic little dog.

Of corse this would arise questions in her. This wasn’t normal compliance. This wasn’t even a work of fear. There was something deeper to it. She could only wonder what could have made you conditioned this way. What poor parenting you had. But she never wonders long; that’s neither here nor there.

Regardless of who scattered your brain into this mess, you were hers to play with. And play she did. What started as amusement for her quickly turned into something darker.

She shot you a glare as you clumsily knocked her drink over, the contents spilling across the table in a way that was almost captivating. "Sorry," you mumbled, your voice so soft she had to strain to hear it.

"Course you are," Sevika shot back, her scarred lips curling into a snarl. She leaned back in her chair, her dark eyes narrowing as she watched you. "You always are."

And you were. You apologized for things you hadn't even done. If Sevika so much as raised an eyebrow at you, you were tripping over yourself to fix it, to smooth it over, to keep her from growing angrier.

Her jaw tightened as she once’s you over.

No fight. No defiance. Just desperation. You didn't raise your hands to shield yourself anymore. You didn't even flinch when her voice dropped to that dangerous tone everyone else feared. Instead, you stood there, wide-eyed and apologetic, waiting for the next insult and clinging to every word like your life depended on it.

Maybe it does.

Sevika didn't like it. Or at least, that's what she told herself. There was no satisfaction in bullying someone who crumbled so easily. So willingly. Someone who doesn’t challenge her.

She didn’t need to exert that brute force that she naturally carried. Didn’t need to use all of the hurtful remarks that had crossed her mind, the ones she’d been waiting to use. Never got to see your face scrunch up at said words. It just wasn’t pleasing.

But then why couldn't she stop? Why did she keep poking, prodding, testing to see how far you'd bend before you finally broke?

Suddenly, a lightbulb crackled in her mind.

"Do you— do you want me to leave?" you asked softly, pulling her from her thoughts, eyes downcast. Sevika stared at you, the usual sharpness in her expression giving way to something unreadable.

"…What?"

"...If I'm that much of a bother, l'll go." Your voice cracked, but you didn't look up. "I-I don't want to get in your way anymore."

Something in her chest twisted, something dark. Darker than she’d care to admit. She leaned forward, her mechanical arm resting heavily on the table. "Don't be stupid." she said, her tone gruff but quieter than before.

You blinked up at her, confused.

"You're not going anywhere," she muttered, blinking slowly. "Just... don't make a habit of spilling my drinks, yeah?" You nod quickly, a faint, shaky smile pulling at the corners of your lips. Maybe she had been wrong about you before, maybe you’ve given her a challenge after all.

She knew how to break you.

please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist to be notified whenever i post, xx

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[moutainrusing]

problems

962 words, jegulus, platonic prongsfoot, platonic moonchaser, wolfstar

He was not bad. He was not engaging in incest. What the fuck, James? Shit, he’d just sworn. And again. In his head. It was fine. It was not fine. He was in love with his brother’s brother. Shit, he shouldn’t say it like that.

James was in love with his best friend’s brother.

Except he thought of his best friend as a brother.

So was he now thinking incestual thoughts? And how to stop? And on a scale of rottenness, how bad was he? Should he get thrown out for this? Put in jail? Someone needed to absolve him of this crime. It didn’t feel like a crime.

That’s the rottenness speaking!

He shouldn’t be in love with the brother of the person whom he thought of as a brother.

But he didn’t think of Regulus as a brother— Shut up, James. Just accept that you’re awful. He didn’t want to. He argued with the voice in his head – he was going insane – he refuted it, I’m not awful, but it rolled its eyes at him, the disembodied voice now had disembodied eyes, and James should be send to a psychiatric ward to be fixed for his mental problem of having a crush on his brother’s brother— He was normal. He really was. He just needed to keep it to himself and bottle it up and hopefully he wouldn’t do anything illegal.

Maybe seeking help was a good idea. He’d say, Hey, McGonagall, sign me up for therapy? You see, I have a problem—

You have many problems—

Shut up, voice, anyway, I have this problem where I’m crushing on my brother’s brother, please fix me—

You can’t be fixed.

James really hated his brain. If it weren’t for his brain, he wouldn’t be here finding Regulus attractive, because he wouldn’t have the thoughts to do so. He would be empty and calm and peaceful, the ultimate goal of meditation, and that was a good idea, he should meditate, breathe in deeply, cleanse his mind of all this dirt, and stop thinking about the dirt!

He was meditating.

He had problems, and he would pretend they didn’t exist. That’s not meditation, James.

The voice was supposed to go away when he cleared his thoughts.

He sat cross-legged on his bed, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to fill his brain with only air and nothing else. He was lighter than a cloud, nothing weighed him down, he’d float away and be forever untied from the Earth and all his troubles. Far away in space, where time would lose all meaning, and he would simply be particles of dust in a nebula. Imagine being a nebula. A lovely haze of starry explosion.

Regulus was a star.

James took in another deep breath, trying to suffocate his thoughts with the expansion of his lungs, he’d make room for nothing else except air and air and air and he couldn’t breathe—

“James!” Remus’s voice cut through to him, with a hand on his back, thumping it once, before he returned to the room and opened his eyes.

He latched onto Remus, flickering over Remus’s expression, and he knew exactly how to get rid of the concern written across it. All he had to do was make Remus hate him, so he blurted, “I’m in love with my brother’s brother.”

Remus’s eyes widened slightly, before he coughed, choking on a laugh, “Don’t say it like that, James, or people will get the wrong idea.”

Wildly, James gesticulated, “There is no right idea!”

“James,” Remus calmly caught James’s arms before they swung off his body. “It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t—”

“Regulus isn’t your brother,” Remus stared at him seriously. “You’re doing nothing wrong.”

“But—”

“You’re allowed to think of him in a romantic way. He’s not related to you, he’s a person you met on the journey of your life, and it’s okay for you to fall in love with him. Sirius is another person you met on the journey of your life, and you’re allowed to think of him in any way that you want to as well, and you chose to think of him as a brother. That doesn’t mean that all the random strangers in his family are also yours.”

James collapsed into Remus’s arms, head on his shoulder, mumbling into his neck, “I’m being stupid, right?”

He could imagine Remus’s smirk as he replied, “Nah. You’re never stupid.”

James scoffed, still clinging to Remus as he sought out more advice. “How should I tell Sirius?”

“Tell me what?” The door slammed shut as Sirius entered the room. He paused, looked at James and Remus, and pointed between them incredulously, “Are you telling me that you’re dating?!”

Laughing, James slipped out of Remus’s hug to sling an arm around his shoulder, “Nah, Remus is a brother to me.”

Sirius’s eyes widened, “What?! No, I’m not in love with my brother’s brother!”

Aw, he and Sirius were so similar. James burst out laughing at how stupid his honorary brother was.

With a deadpan expression, Remus added to Sirius’s distress, “I’m also younger than you.”

Dramatically, Sirius protested, “I’m not a pedophile!”

Jumping to his feet, James realised, “Regulus is younger than me! I’m an awful human being—”

“You’re a pedophile for Regulus?!” Sirius turned on him. He waved a condemning finger, “And you’re incestual!”

“You’re incestual!” James contested.

“Neither of you are incestual nor pedophiles,” Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. He continued with a heavy sigh, “James, Regulus is in love with you too.”

Before Sirius could question this onslaught of upsetting revelations (apparently there was reciprocated romantic love between his brother and honorary brother), Remus mumbled as an afterthought, “And Sirius… I’m in love with you too.”

[jnnul]

the right side of wrong (part 3)

TAGS ▸ uhhh an accidental kiss, some fighting/sparring, sunghoon boxes bc i said so, stalking but you don't know that yet

PLAYLIST ▸ yosemite - travis scott, back - jey, stay - ari abdul, element - pop smoke, dirty laundry - blackbear

WORD COUNT ▸ 4.8k

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ so i've been sitting on this chapter for quite some time (motivation to finally post has come from @dojunie for updating the masterpiece misdial) and i originally wanted to include a lot more plot in this chapter but i figured that it would better to get it out than ruminate about the plot too much more. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

TAGLIST ▸ @hybeboyenthusisast

[march 19, 20XX, 12:19 P.M.] [copenhagen, denmark]

“teekl!” klarion exclaims, taking in his surroundings with a sneer. “i wanted to teleport to where y/n is! why’d you bring me to copenhagen?”

teekl meows, as if to rebuke klarion’s displeasure of being dropped in copenhagen - a place with beautiful scenery and fresh air, mind you - compared to the exact location of where y/n was, which was something that teekl was not only incapable of doing at the current energy levels that he was at, but also something that was difficult for klarion himself to do.

“if only i had her exact energy signature…,” klarion mutters under his breath, trying to hone in on y/n’s energy signature. he feels a quick zap against his skull, almost as if he’s made a breakthrough before it vanishes and klarion sighs.

“might as well take a cat nap, before i recharge and find that stupid runaway,” klarion says and teekl meows in almost malicious agreement. neither of them realize that they aren’t the only ones looking for her as felix faust slinks back into the shadows, the two of them never leaving his sight.

[march 19, 20XX, 12:27 A.M.] [mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“let me get this straight and please, feel free to stop me at any point you think that this is batshit insane: you landed in ace chemical factory, and in your panic, you screamed at supersonic levels and everything around you shattered. after that, you didn’t want to be put in jail or whatever you thought was going to happen so you ran and wandered aimlessly around gotham before you ended up at the bank and met artemis. oh, and how could i forget, you didn’t know you could do that?” sunghoon recaps in an almost satirical voice, rubbing the outside of his ear, having just recovered his sense of hearing. y/n nods, somewhat sheepishly, having been pacified when yuna shin, the magician from the justice league, had been called in to fix the necklace using a spell. yujin sighs, rubbing her forehead as the two of them start to piece together what had happened that night.

“still doesn’t explain how icicle sr. managed to get from the yacht bridge to the bank in that time frame,” yujin says and y/n raises her hand hesitatingly.

“i don’t know if this is relevant but there was some guy wearing a huge parka in the middle of march that was riding down a huge…bobsled with ice that kinda appeared wherever he moved? i wasn’t sure if that was normal in this dimension so i didn’t say anything but they’re both icy,” she says, fidgeting with her hands. 

“did you see anyone else with him?” sunghoon asks, and y/n wracks her brain, trying to think if she saw anyone else that night.

“some really pale lady with spiky blue hair?”

yujin and sunghoon exchange a look before yujin groans, pulling out her phone to call belrev and let the maximum security prison wasn’t nearly as high security as they thought it was. 

“those three are all money hungry people who ally with each other every time they want to pull off a serious heist since they all use ice as their method of attack. they were probably all working together to pull off the yacht bridge incident,” sunghoon explains as a lightbulb goes off in his head. “that’s why we only saw shattered glass and nothing else. the ice probably melted by the time that we got there.”

“well that explains that. what that doesn’t explain is the canary cry. no one else in the justice league - or the injustice league, for that matter - has the canary cry. at least not since that impersonator was put into prison but even she couldn’t use the canary cry well enough to make stone break,” yujin says once she gets off the phone.

“right…” sunghoon turns to y/n, who’s fidgeting with the necklace in her hand. “do you mind if i look at that for a second?”

y/n stares at the necklace for a moment before handing it over somewhat reluctantly.

the necklace itself seems rather plain. it’s a gold necklace, with a single pearl dangling off of it but other than that, it had no identifiers to suggest why this necklace was so important to y/n.

“it was my mother’s,” she says softly and sunghoon hears yujin have to contain her gasp where she was standing. “it’s the only thing i have from her and the only thing that my father hasn’t tried to take from me when it comes to memories of my mom.”

that would explain the sentimental attachment.

sunghoon eyes the pearl, which seems to be dazzling in the light, even though there was very little in y/n’s room, as though it were exuding light, rather than reflecting it. well. unless pearls operated differently in y/n’s dimension (which, at this point, sunghoon couldn’t even say definitively that they didn’t), there was something about this necklace…

“you don’t know who exactly your mother is, right?” yujin asks and y/n nods, hands twitching as she watches sunghoon fidget with the necklace before he drops it back onto the nightstand. she snatches it up quickly, putting it back around her neck, seeming much more calm now that the necklace was on her.

“no. all i know is that my father and my mother went to the same high school and that i was born when they were both still in school, which is probably why i ended up with my dad instead of my mom,” y/n says, thumbing at the pearl. yujin exchanges a look with sunghoon, and this time, sunghoon is the one to leave the room, pressing buttons on a flip phone to call someone.

“look, i don’t want to give you any false hope or even give you any information that you don’t need right now,” yujin starts, taking a deep breath. y/n doesn’t say anything, just watching yujin as the taller girl gets up to start pacing around the room that suddenly feels surprisingly cramped.

“but with the cry and everything that she’s told us about how she discovered her powers and everything…we have good reason to believe that your mother is black canary.”

y/n’s breath comes out as a staccato as it catches in her throat.

“…and we don’t know if she knows you exist."

[march 19, 20XX, 1:02 A.M.] [mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“what did the bat say?” yujin asks a disheveled looking sunghoon. the tall man just shakes his head, sitting down next to her on y/n’s bed, the owner of said bed watching him from the other side of the room on her beanbag chair.

“he can’t confirm or deny anything right now because black canary’s not in the u.s. right now. she’s out of the country on some top secret mission and cannot be called back under any circumstances,” sunghoon sighs and yujin’s eyebrows furrow.

“it took you half an hour to find out that we can’t get in touch with black canary?” 

“there were…other things. just alpha clearance level things,” sunghoon says and yujin immediately leans back. y/n’s eyes bounce back and forth between sunghoon and yujin before clearing her throat nervously.

“uh, what does alpha clearance mean?”

“it’s just our classification system to ensure that the information from the team and the justice league is kept safe,” sunghoon explains. “each person has a certain clearance level they request or are approved for. more than anything, it’s so that people in the league or on the team don’t bite off more than what they can chew.”

“for example, superboy has the lowest clearance level - level eight. we trust him with our lives and know that he’s the first person to run headfirst into danger if he felt that was right,” yujin starts and y/n nods slowly, following where yujin was going with her logic.

“but if someone who was that quick to action were to be given higher clearance knowledge, then it would be hard to reestablish which missions are his priority and which aren’t, since he would probably feel they were all important,” y/n continues.

“and while they are all important, some require more planning than brute force. it’s hard to explain that to someone when they’re already extremely emotionally invested in a mission,” sunghoon finishes.

“it’s really more about how emotionally detached someone can get from the mission to ensure that actions are being put in place for the greater good,” y/n summarizes and yujin and sunghoon both shrug.

“that’s one way of thinking about it. it’s like a chain of command, honestly. if something were to happen to me, there needs to be someone who would be next in the chain of command so that the team doesn’t get split into five different directions because five different people think that the team should operate differently,” sunghoon says and y/n nods, leaning backwards into the plushiness of the beanbag chair.

“is it alright that you’re telling me all of this though? i asked because i was curious - but i’m curious about a lot of things. things that are probably less confidential than the inner workings of how an espionage and covert operations team works,” y/n asks, and although her words would set sunghoon on high alert coming from anyone else, he feels strangely understanding when it comes from her.

which had implications that he wasn’t ready to think about just yet.

“well, if you want the truth, there’s two aspects to it: a) it’s in our best interest to be as honest with you as possible so that you can be as honest as possible with us to help us with stopping the light. and b) i’ve been having private conversations with various members of the team about you joining the team - if that’s what you want - and everyone’s on board with the idea,” yujin says, watching y/n’s reaction to this (what she thinks is, at least) bombshell of information. “that’s actually part of what sunghoon and i wanted to talk to you about before the whole canary cry situation.”

“join the team?” y/n repeats slowly, her posture growing more timid as she sinks even further backwards into the chair. sunghoon refrains from reaching forward to comfort her, for fear that he might scare her even more.

“it’s not an obligation and we’d definitely understand if that’s not something that you want. but we figured that we’d present the option to you whenever you’re ready. i think that you’d be a great addition to the team,” sunghoon says gently, his eyes never leaving y/n’s.

“you do? but i don’t have any combat experience; i’d just drag you all down and put you in danger,” y/n murmurs softly, and yujin catches the faint blush on her cheeks as her eyes dart to the floor for a moment’s reprieve from sunghoon’s gaze. cute.

“we all started from somewhere, y/n,” sunghoon reminds her.

“yeah. boy wonder’s the only one out of all of us who came out of the womb fighting,” yujin snorts, punching sunghoon in the shoulder. “and besides, i saw you hold your own in front of icicle and his stupid gang. anyone who can blast that frosty old snowball into a sedan is someone i want on my team.”

y/n smiles softly, her thumb rubbing over her knuckles as she’s lost in thought, weighing her options in front of her almost plainly on her face. sunghoon taps yujin’s knee slightly and the two of them get up from where they were perched on her bed and begin to make their way to the door to leave y/n to her thoughts.

“can i - could i, maybe, watch you guys train tomorrow? soojin said that you guys are training altogether tomorrow and maybe that’ll help me make a decision?” y/n asks and sunghoon’s nodding his head before he even fully processes the question.

“whatever you need, y/n. just be sure to bring an ice pack in case you decide to join the fight,” yujin says with a wink as she walks away. sunghoon rolls his eyes before shaking his head when he see’s y/n’s eyes widened with worry.

“she’s joking. you absolutely don’t need to spar with us to watch, y/n,” sunghoon says softly and he sees some of the tension in her shoulders visibly melt.

“thanks, sunghoon,” she murmurs back, getting up to close the door as sunghoon retreats as well, a small smile on his face.

sunghoon. he liked the way that his name sounded on her lips.

[march 19, 20XX, 9:52 A.M.] [mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

y/n winces as superboy crashes to the floor with a resounding thud. jay huffs as he lays on his back for just a moment, the mat sounding out a depressing ‘SUPERBOY - LOSS’ as he stares up at the ceiling.

“i’m getting really tired of getting beat up by people half my size,” jay groans as he accepts yujin’s hand as she hoists him up back onto his feet. 

“to be fair, yujin is pretty much your height,” jake points out, hand deep into a family size bag of chips. he was already well past his first defeat at the hands of his girlfriend and had wisely decided to spend the rest of training with some form of food shoved into his mouth.

“i don’t think that’s gonna make him feel better, kid. and he’s pretty tall,” soojin says but jay just shrugs.

“eh, i’ve only got two or three inches on her but if there’s anything i’ve learned from training with artemis and black canary, it’s that you should never judge a book by its cover. especially a girl. those are books you could read your entire life and never understand,” jay snorts, and soojin and yujin exchange an exasperated look when jake hollers out an ‘amen brother!’.

“i don’t know. i don’t think girls are really all that hard to understand,” sunghoon announces his presence, unwrapping the bandages on his knuckles as he joined the team in the sparring room. he was a boxing aficionado as of late and had taken to doing some boxing training in solitude before training with the rest of the team.

he’d tried to hook soojin and jake on it but soojin had incinerated the boxing gloves and jake had accidentally phased right though the sandbag. needless to say, boxing became more of a sport of solitude after that.

“of course our resident player says that; that’s how he gets all the girls to fall for him,” jake teases and sunghoon just rolls his eyes.

“i’m not a player.”

“says the man who hasn’t dated a woman for longer than three months at a time.” yujin crosses her arms over her chest as though she was daring sunghoon to challenge her statement.

“that doesn’t mean i’m a player.”

“can you count the number of women you’ve dated on all of your appendages?”

“does my tongue count?”

“gross.”

y/n’s eyes dart back and forth between yujin and sunghoon, and sunghoon is almost taken aback to the night before, with artemis and him going back and forth with their usual banter. ah. while the other members of the team knew to just ignore the two of them (or watch, if they wanted some entertainment for the day), y/n probably thought they were genuinely fighting. 

it wasn’t as though she had many friends to banter with and the ‘friends’ that she did have weren’t exactly the bantering type. sunghoon shudders as he tries to imagine vandal savage engaging in harmless banter.

“did you hurt yourself?” y/n says softly, nodding at sunghoon’s bandages that were balled up in his fist. he looks down, eyebrows furrowed before realization strikes him.

“oh no, these aren’t bandages because i’m hurt; these are wraps that boxers wear to keep their fists protected when they’re boxing,” sunghoon says and even jake (who’s usually the most oblivious one of them all) can sense the shift in sunghoon’s tone when addressing y/n. where sunghoon was prone to having a rather stoic first impression, he was soft and gentle when speaking to y/n.

my bet’s that they’re gonna kiss in the next three weeks,jake says through the mind link.

i’m going for four, jay contests. sunghoon tries not to make the indignant feeling bubbling in his chest too obvious on his face.

i wouldn’t put it past sunghoon, but i’m giving the girl two months. i don’t think she really understands how romance works, yujin points out.

she’s watched the notebook. she knows what romance is, soojin disagrees.

“are you guys having a conversation without me in your minds?” y/n asks, glancing between them, and the team belatedly realizes that the room had been silent for too long to be appropriate. especially not with sunghoon looking at the rest of them as though he wanted to throw something sharp and pointy at them.

y/n crosses her arms over her chest and for the first time, sunghoon saw sheer disappointment on her face. the look made his chest tight and for some reason, he really didn’t want to see that look on her face directed towards him ever again. ever. “i really can’t tell if that’s really cool or…really, really rude.”

“sorry, it was something really stupid,” yujin says, trying appease y/n. her expression doesn’t give any leeway, and soojin makes her way over to y/n to nudge her slightly.

“really, it was super stupid. but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t rude. sorry y/n. we’ve grown rusty with welcoming new people when all of us are together since we haven’t had a new member since…well, since yujin,” she explains and y/n finally uncrosses her arms and sighs.

“it’s fine - i mean, i get that you guys have a super important history together and i would never do anything to try and intrude on that,” y/n concedes. 

“look, i’m really sorry,” sunghoon says and y/n’s shoulders melt in the slightest when he does - something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the group.

“it’s okay. now - uh, who do i shoot with a fireball first?”

“i thought you were just watching?”

“what can i say? i’m all fired up.”

“you and i are going to get along just fine.”

“shut up, kid.”

[march 19, 20XX, 10:21 A.M.] [mount justice, happy harbor, rhode island]

“break - break! jesus christ, what have they been feeding you in that other dimension?” jake wheezes, pressing a hand to his chest as he tries to catch his breath. y/n blinks innocently from where she’s standing on the other side of the mat, looking rather unfazed by the whole experience.

“uh, human food, i’m pretty sure. no ovens or refrigerators, remember?” y/n points out and jake blinks, now on the other side of the room, mid-bite as he was scarfing down a 7,000 calorie protein bar made specially for him.

“it was a rhetoric question,” he says in between bites and y/n nods as though she were taking mental note. 

“right. uh - so who am i sparring next?” she says, awkwardly holding her hands out in the same position as she had done so before - effective, if jake’s wheezing is to say anything, but clearly off in practicality and skill.

“how about you spar with me?” sunghoon offers, casting his boxing gloves on the bench. he’d taken a break to watch y/n and see how she would adapt to a sudden situation where she could only rely on instinct rather than her underdeveloped pyretic skills, only to realize just how far behind she was in technical skill.

but if there was anything that her match with jake had indicated, what she lacked in technical skill, she made up for in sheer ability, with her ability to nearly predict what her opponent was going to do - even if said opponent was operating at superhuman speeds.

sunghoon figures that it’s a trauma response developed to sort of predict the behaviors of those around her in such an unpredictable environment. she also had a tendency to rely on her feet instead of her hands, which was a good thing when facing an opponent such as kid flash, who relies on his speed and arm skills and disadvantageous for pretty much everyone else.

“be careful, newbie. sunghoon’s undefeated against all of us except for yujin,” jay warns from where he’s also taking a break next to jake, soojin not far from him.

“i only beat him that one time he broke his leg,” yujin points out, but she’s quickly shushed by jake, who says something along the lines of, “don’t lose your street cred in front of your girlfriend.”

yujin, of course, lobs a sweaty towel at him shortly thereafter, but it was the thought that counted.

“should i be nervous?” y/n asks, and sunghoon shakes his head before stepping into the ring.

“don’t worry - i’m not trying to beat you or anything; i just want to correct a few small mistakes i’ve been seeing,” sunghoon explains gently, watching y/n’s worried expression melt off her face, although her limbs were still stiff with anticipation.

sunghoon steps one foot forward, to which y/n lunges backwards, wary and apprehensive of every move sunghoon made. “i’ m not going to hurt you, y/n.”

y/n nods, but it’s clear that she’s scared witless and sunghoon crosses his hands over each other to form a ‘t’ to indicate a time-out, casually walking forward towards y/n in hopes of making her feel more at ease.

but no sooner does he get within a foot of her does she lunge forward rather brashly, causing sunghoon to stumble backwards and toppling downwards - just barely saving himself by flipping over so that he was in a pushup position.

“get him while he’s down!” he hears yujin cry.

“i can’t believe a noob is about to beat sunghoon!” jake exclaims. 

“oh my god, i can’t watch,” soojin says, her fingers crossed in front of her face with enough space that it was clear her eyes were 100% still watching.

“i might have never been taught how to fight - ” y/n begins, sweeping at sunghoon’s arms so that he would fall. he just barely avoids it by rolling forward, crouched on the balls of his feet as he watches y/n carefully. “ - but i did learn a thing or two about how to stay unsuspicious.”

“i’ll give you that,” sunghoon concedes after standing up, dipping into a gentleman’s bow, twirling out of the way when y/n tries to take the moment to push sunghoon down. “but it’s not enough to take me down.”

“i don’t doubt it,” y/n admits, awkwardly holding her arms out in what it she deemed to be a ‘threatening offense’ as she carefully circled the fight space, mirroring sunghoon’s movements.

“you don’t seem very bogged down by the truth,” he remarks and a catty smile flashes across y/n’s lips before disappearing just as soon as it had appeared.

“you don’t seem to be very discontent in my inability to take you down,” y/n throws back lightly.

“how long are they going to keep doing that?” jay whispers to soojin, who still has her fingers spread across her face, her face strangely tinted pink rather than her usual pale pallor.

“keep flirting or keep fighting?” yujin snorts from the other side of jay, ducking out of reach when soojin leans over to push yujin.

“they’ll hear you!” soojin shushes and jake rolls his eyes with a goodnatured shake of the head.

“the only person who has super hearing is jay and he’s sitting right next to you. i doubt they’re going to be able to hear us from forty feet away,” jake points out and soojin harrumphs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“we don’t know if y/n has super hearing,” soojin reminds the group and the three of them simultaneously face forward to see if y/n was listening to their conversation. either she was an incredible actress or she genuinely couldn’t hear anything because by the time they refocus on the scene in front of them, sunghoon’s warding off another well timed kick and the succeeding side swipe.

but what he doesn’t account for is y/n’s ability to turn around nearly as fast as sunghoon to try and land a punch. and while sunghoon does manage to swat away y/n’s fist, she’s unable to recover as quickly as sunghoon as she loses her balance trying to beat sunghoon. and sunghoon, in his panic to try and shield y/n’s fall, manages to topple downwards with her.

down, down, down until suddenly, every inch of y/n’s body is pressed against his own. from her toes to her - to her lips, pressed against sunghoon’s and although y/n’s powers are pyrokinetics, sunghoon feels as though his entire body has been doused in cold water as he realizes that technically, he is kissing y/n. or honestly, she’s kissing him but somehow the logistics of the situation are lost on sunghoon when he looks into her eyes, wide-eyed and confused. 

have y/n’s eyes always been so…so bright? 

it’s only when jay coughs obnoxiously loudly that he remembers his audience, and it seems that this is an adequate reminder for y/n as well, who rolls off of him rather unceremoniously.

the room is silent, almost painfully so as sunghoon and y/n seemingly process what just happened. 

ardor - win. sunghoon - loss. the mat rings out unhelpfully and y/n looks as though she’s rebooting as she rises to her feet.

“is there any way to correct the system? i - i don’t think i actually won. not with conventional tactics anyway,” she splutters as sunghoon also composes himself enough to get off the floor.

“a win is a win!” jake calls out, wincing when sunghoon shoots him a withering look. this seems to kickstart the rest of the team back to life as jay offers y/n a water bottle and soojin flashes an award-winning smile at her.

“not bad for your first day on the training mat,” yujin says, casually throwing an arm around y/n’s shoulders.

jake, seemingly haven shaken off sunghoon’s nonverbal warning rather quickly, turns to the still somewhat confused man with a shit-eating grin. “you lost. you know what that means, right?”

this catches jay’s attention as well as he appears at the scene of the crime with an equally frightening smirk. “i vaguely recall someone saying that if someone beat him - ”

“ - he’d be their personal servant for a month?” yujin finishes and soojin giggles, quickly trying to hide her grin when sunghoon’s glare transfers from the terrible threes and lands on her instead.

“oh, oh no - i’m so sorry!” y/n exclaims, her face twisted into an expression somewhere in between guilt, shame, confusion, and anxiety. “please don’t regard this as a loss; the…accident from before was completely my fault and that wasn’t an official sparring match so - so that shouldn’t count as a win and you shouldn’t be held to those conditions.”

yujin watches as sunghoon turns to her, his gaze growing soft but somewhat guarded as he shakes his head with a good-natured smile. 

“you won. there is no changing the system. and besides, in the field, one must be prepared for sorts of conditions and trials; it was my own fault that i lost so i must uphold the conditions i proposed,” sunghoon says but the words don’t seem to appease y/n’s mind at all.

soojin seems to notice as she steers y/n towards the exit of the training room.

“y/n, trust me. when it comes to wins from sunghoon, you take them where you can get them,” she says and y/n just nods, which is as much of a concession of her victory as soojin figures she’s gonna get. 

yujin’s left in the training room with sunghoon by the time jake and jay gather their belongings also start to file out the training room (but not before jake smirks at sunghoon, indicating that they were gonna talk later).

“stop thinking so much,” yujin says, arms folded across her chest. sunghoon rolls his eyes before heading over to the bench to pick up his bandages and boxing gear.

“i’m not thinking,” sunghoon says and yujin snorts.

“normally, i’d love to agree with that statement but you’re overthinking and every single one of us can tell. including y/n.” yujin nods to y/n’s receding figure before turning back to sunghoon with an unimpressed look. “it was an accident.”

“i know,” sunghoon says, a little too quickly. “i mean, i know.”

yujin fixes him with a probing look before giving up, shrugging as she also starts to head out of the training room. 

but it seems the surprises for the day are still abundant as y/n bursts into the room, looking more alarmed than yujin’s ever seen her before.

“don’t ask me how i know this but klarion’s back in town,” y/n trembles, eyes full of panic.

“and i think he knows where i am.”

[flo-zoinks]

Headcanons for if anyone sat by them at the campfire and just started pulling strands of their hair out…😈

Chlo boo u high-key a freak but I fw it💀❤ I was laughing for a solid minute when I read this oh my goodness😭😭

WHAT I IMAGINE WOULD HAPPEN IF U SAT AT A CAMPFIRE AND STARTED PULLING OUT CHUNKS OF EADH RDR2 GANG MEMBERS HAIR.. (MY OPINION)

(Again as reactions differ greatly between people we are assuming here it's someone similar to John in terms of age gender and likeness around camp)

Arthur - exclaim like "what the hell are yu doing?!" Then leave camp for like a week until hes not mad

Hosea - lean back away from you and tell you off for being such a weird idiot, then just go back to whatever he was doing unfazed

Sadie - literally pounce on ur ass until someone like Arthur pulls you too apart, but she swears its not over and now you sleep scared

Dutch - push you off whatever your sitting on and tell you to leave camp until you get your head straight, then immediately go to the nearest mirror to fix himself

Molly - slap your hand away and look really offended, tell Dutch, then adjust her routine to be furthest from you in camp from now on in anxiety

Sean - be really confused, but try and laugh it off that you want to take his gorgeous looks out of jealousy

Lenny - probably would think it's a bit racially motivated so shove you and tell you that its not okay to do that then leave for the night to talk to Sean or Hosea

Abigail - slap ur face and ask what the hell you think you're doing, and make sure Jack stays away from you

John - give you a confused look and tell you smth like "what's wrong with you man" then leave

Javier - start shouting his ass off at you in spanish for ruining his fine looks and punch u to the ground. He dont freak w someone messing up his vanity

Jack - cry and tell Abigail who then slaps you for being a fool and 'nags' John to do something about it until he eventually tells you you're weird for that but stop because Abigail is annoying him

Mary-beth - move away and stare at you for a solid 10 seconds before saying "what the- please don't do that" then leave. Miss Grimshaw wouldn't let that slide though, and Tilly and Karen would give you evils for a good while

Tilly - exclaim (near shouting) "go away _ that's not normal!". Same as Mary-Beth past that w Grimshaw and Karen

Karen - shove you or punch you real hard, then go for a beer to calm down. Tilly would give you evils for a while. Karen would probably shout at you drunk hours after

Kieran - IM NOT AN O'DRISCOLL STOP IT!!!! Javier, Sean, Kieran and Bill probably jeered you on and patted you on the back after

Pearson - hair? Chunks of it? Be fr now

Charles - "stop that."

Trelawny - try and scare you with a magic trick pulling out some animal really close, then whilst your distracted from pulling his damn hair out he slaps your head and ridicules you

Strauss - (had to look up if he had hair lol) stand up offended and tell you off for your improper behaviour then leave to go work

Micah - firstly that hair would be greasy ass but if you chose to continue he'd try scare you to stop suddenly then talk for a good 5 minutes that you like all people are out to get him as hes a rare winner in a world of losers. If you were any minority he'd call you a slur too and blame ur identity. If you were a woman though he'd probably be into it

Grimshaw - tell you off for a good minute and say you've ruined her night as she goes to bed steaming. The girls would later get really mad at you for putting her in a bad mood

Reverend - insist you are hurting a kind priest, but whilst drunk ask you why you hate him then vent that so does God

Bill - beard hair right....? Grab your hand and pull you UNCOMFORTABLY close to warn you, then shove you away angrily saying you got lucky this time loser

Uncle - same w the beard hair right?? Yell out at you the most ABSURD CRUEL insults then tell you that you can pull chunks of his ass hair to. Hopefully you leave before he flashes you.

Thanks for asking me omg💀💀!! Tell me who I forgot yall xx

[bones4thecats]

Rise boys having a fight with their S/o, who storms out and then the Krang invasion happens. Can we have the boys being saved by and reuniting with S/o months later after thinking they died? Just comfort and fluff pls

┗ Halt the Storm; Future! Rise × S/O ┛

Characters: Future-ish! Raphael, Leonardo, Donatello, and Michelangelo (Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) A/N: This is set for a story where you can choose your turtle. So, you can just put in one of the brother's name for the {Turtle} thing, and choose one of the nicknames from the story depending on the color. Hope you like this, Anon! ⇘ Summary: Blaming himself for his own failures was never good for your relationship. Normally, you could fix it with just a conversation, but when that went out the window, you left, going home. Nearly a year later, the Krang took over, leaving your home desecrated. Meanwhile, your boyfriend mourns you, believing you to be deceased. But, when going on a little mission with his brothers, he is defended by a mysterious stranger. After they say an old nickname, he realizes: you were alive and standing in front of him...

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

❤️💙💜🧡 When you fought with your boyfriend, it was normally easy to solve. His emotions would get the better of him, the same with you, and you both understood that part of one another. But, this time, it was different.

"Honestly, if you don't understand that I can handle myself and my responsibilities, why don't you just leave!" He yelled, his voice showing how angry he was with you.

❤️💙💜🧡 You stared at him wide-eyed and tried to spit out some kind of sentence to try resolving the situation, but the way his eyes lacked the beautiful shimmer you fell for just made your throat dry up and your eyes tear up.

❤️💙💜🧡 Splinter watched with wide-eyes with your boyfriend's brothers. One tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen, storming to his room, claiming he needed space.

❤️💙💜🧡 They looked at you with sad in their eyes. Splinter walked up to you and hugged you, causing you to break down. He then called for one of his boys to bring you home safely while waiting for the brother you called your own to calm down.

-- Current Time:

❤️💙💜🧡 That was months ago. Almost 12, exactly 11 months, two weeks, three days, fourteen hours, twelve minutes, and 16 seconds. How did he keep count? How could he not? It was that day he spoke his last words to you. And they weren't filled with the positive feelings he felt for you, no. They were filled with the resentment towards himself for failing.

"Hey, bro. You coming? April said she found a signal out just past the city's limits." One of his brothers said from the outside of his room.

❤️💙💜🧡 He sighed and stood up, saying he was before grabbing his weapons and walking outside.

❤️💙💜🧡 Once the four mutant-brothers reached near the signal's location, Donnie told them to fan out, to search everywhere as he looked at the map with his scanner. He pushed it away as they split, looking around for the thing they were told was here. A Krang.

❤️💙💜🧡 Jumping down from the top of the broken-down house, {Turtle} looked around. His eyes traveled faster than a human's, which made him valuable to the resistance.

❤️💙💜🧡 As his eyes traveled in front of him, he neglected to check behind him. A larger Krang, around between the height of the first and second Krang, jumped from behind him, sending its appendages to skewer the mutant turtle.

❤️💙💜🧡 He looked back sharply and furrowed his brow, jumping up and onto the tentacle, successfully smashing it into the ground. A loud scream came from the alien as it looked up and sent more at {Turtle}.

❤️💙💜🧡 {Turtle} scoffed and brought out his mystic weapon and began his attack on the Krang. It jumped to the left at the last second, and landed in front of a steel rod. Its tentacle gripped it, dislodging it successfully, and throwing it at its opponent.

❤️💙💜🧡 In the meantime, {Turtle} was speaking to the brother closest to his location, telling him his locations and ordering him to grab their brothers for backup as quickly as possible. As he did this, he jumped slightly below what he should have, as a rod lodged itself inside of his calf.

❤️💙💜🧡 He wailed as he landed on the nearby ground, gripping his wound with his three-fingered hands. He glared up at the Krang as it laughed and mocked him, pushing on his wound with a sadistic glint in its eyes.

❤️💙💜🧡 Just before it landed the final hit on {Turtle}, a force pushed it away from him and into a nearby building's walls. Above him stood a figure with a gas mask and dark-clothing covering their entire body. Just out of their right sleeve was a robotic arm and their bottom left leg the same.

"Get up, Cardinal / Bluebird / Amethyst / Cheeto. That Krang isn't gonna be down for very long."

❤️💙💜🧡 {Nickname}... that was the nickname you gave him. But, it couldn't be. Your home was destroyed almost immediately after the Krang arrived. It was one of their first targets. How could you be alive?

"Y/N...? Is it... really you?" He asked as you readied your sword and grenades.

"We'll discuss it later. Right now you need medical attention. You call your brothers?" You asked as you took out some bandages from your pocket and tossed them over so he can cover his wounds and hopefully slow down the bleeding.

❤️💙💜🧡 He nodded and pressed down on his wound. But, despite his better judgement (and most likely his brother's as well), he used his weapon and strength to pull out the rod in his leg. The shock from it happening caused more blood to come out. You rolled his eyes from under the mask and laid your weapons down, grabbed the bandages, wrapped them around his leg tightly and added pressure, which you gave to him as you noticed his brothers approaching.

❤️💙💜🧡 You looked back down at him and put your weapons back in their holsters. The others mutants landed nearby you, they asked what happened, to which you said you'd catch them up when safe. They nodded and began to help you keep their brother safe, unknowing to whom they were seeing after so long.

-- Time-Skip...

❤️💙💜🧡 The sound of beeping alerted the turtle who was resting. He opened his eyes slowly and looked up and around, trying to locate where he was. He came to the conclusion that he was in the medical-room that was created just a couple months ago, being made of some still-functioning medical equipment from all around the destroyed city.

❤️💙💜🧡 He tried to sit up, but failed due to feeling a head right beside him. {Turtle} looked down and noticed you. So, you were safe. Thank his ancestors.

❤️💙💜🧡 {Turtle} looked at you and smiled, his somehow-still clean teeth poking out as he did so. He reached towards you and began to rub his hand against your head.

❤️💙💜🧡 He missed this more than you realized. The feeling of your face being in his grasp. The heat that you produced against his natural, cold bodily temperatures. You were his missing other half that he finally found after so long.

❤️💙💜🧡 Though, he knew if you awoke and saw him looking down at you rather than resting from his wound caused by that blob-looking monster, {Turtle} decided to close his eyes once more, this time with his hand covering the ones you had over his thigh.

❤️💙💜🧡 He couldn't deny that he couldn't wait to hear your voice and hold you the same way he used to back then. Couldn't wait to fix what he had damaged all those months ago, rebuild your relationship stronger than ever among the invasion of these beasts.

"I've missed you... my love."

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"One of these days." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

For you and your husband, trying to find the right time to have a little fun is not always so easy.

A/N: Just a imagine that made me smile while I was writing it hehe, so I hope you guys enjoy it a bit too. Thanks! (with a small appearance of Denise fearing Daryl XD) (Not my gif!)

Daryl lifts you up for you to sit in the counter of the living room, his lips crashing against yours in a hard kiss as his hands pulls you close to him by the waist, the heat of your bodies getting mixed with the sole idea of ​​feeling each other after almost two weeks apart.

The last search for supplies had taken longer than usual, and between his arrival and your days and sleepless nights in the infirmary accompanying some sick people with Denise, the bed in your home had only recognized one lonely body.

Now, your hands tangle in his hair kissing him back, his tongue playing with yours, getting from your husband a low growl when your legs pull him close, feeling the bulge in his pants against you. Taking a ragged breath before sinking back into your skin, Daryl takes your black t-shirt off and his hands caress your soft skin as he kisses your neck, missing the contact with it; and too excited to waste time because he has to leave again soon. But your mind clouds with desire like a foggy morning, so you push his vest out of his body and start unbuttoning his shirt while Daryl kisses the skin between your breasts, making you moan.

“Do we really have time to do this?” You try to be reasonable, but your hands are still holding onto the buckle of his pants.

“Yeah…” He said, in a low, deep voice, but Daryl couldn't care less if he is late as he starts to unbutton your jeans. “Let me get ya ready.”

There was something extremely hot when he did that, like being in a beautiful hell in the way Daryl always ate you up first, like it was his duty, and his words make you lick your dry lip, feeling his on your belly that contracts with the heat of his tongue.

But when he is about to pull your jeans down, someone knocks the door, insistently.

“Shit…” He growls in frustration, getting up.

“Coming!” You get off the counter, putting your t-shirt back while he does the same with his shirt.

You start fixing your jeans as you walk toward the door to open it, feeling your cheeks red and hot while you smile at Denise.

“Hey, Denise.”

“Hey, (Y/N).” She smiles back. “Is Daryl home? I hope he hasn’t left yet.”

You nod, clearing your throat in fear that your voice will crack.

“He’s getting ready. Something happened?”

“No, no…” She moves her hand in the air, pulling a paper of her jean pocket next. “I forgot to write some things on the list I gave him yesterday.”

Behind you, the door opens and Daryl walks out, dressed and with his crossbow and his backpack around his body. He looks normal, his hair is kind of messy, but it usually is so nobody could tell the difference.

“Oh, hey…” Denise smiles at him, and he nods once at her while taking the paper, his personality usually becoming silent with people he didn't feel comfortable with yet. “I just wanted to give you this. Sorry to bother you.”

“No. It’s okay…” You say and look at your husband. “Daryl has to go now. Right, love?”

Daryl looks back at you, frustrated for your interrupted play time.

“Yeah. I better go.” He kisses your temple and looks at Denise. “Bye.”

He goes down the steps of the porch, walking away.

“Remember to keep it cool.” You chuckle, referring to his erection that would take time to get down. “And please be careful.”

Looking over his shoulder, Daryl waves his hand in the air, because that is his special way of telling you that he will be careful.

Life within the walls of Alexandria moved slowly, calmly like a sleeping river instead of feeling like wild waves, giving you and the family you made when that new world arose, a sense of peace after having been wandering out there for so long, dangerously all the time. Fortunately, life there was kind of peaceful, and that had stopped the chaos in your worlds and the fear that some members of the family sometimes fell into. But that night, as you return home from work, you can allow yourself the luxury of admiring the bright moon that shines and illuminates your path, as a sign that for that moment at least, the darkness of the world is no longer as terrifying as it used to be.

“Were you married to Daryl before all this, (Y/N)? Or did you meet him when all this madness started?”

Denise is reserved and shy, but there is also a sweetness in her that is still preserved, intact, like a living proof that there were still good people in the world.

“We actually met like two years before all this.” The memory makes you smile at her, a latent feeling awakening in your heart with some shyness. “We had been married for a few months when the dead started to rise.”

Denise nods, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Daryl is… intimidating…” She chuckles nervously, but there is something in your soft laugh that encourages her to continue. “But in this time that you two have been living here I have noticed the way he looks at you, or how Daryl looks for you with his eyes in a room full of people, at community meetings for example. But he is not very talkative, is he?”

You laugh again, a little longer this time as you see your husband sitting on the porch steps a few houses away.

"Daryl is quiet, very reserved, and has a hard time letting people into his life, but when he feels like he can trust people, you can tell that Daryl cares a lot about them."

“And he was the same with you?”

You think about that, remembering that when he saw that he could trust you, Daryl became open to showing his own vulnerabilities, only with you, so it was easier to fall for him. Plus, he was and is still hot as hell.

“Something like that...” You nod softly. “Trust me, a couple of times I was close to throwing something at his head for being so stubborn and surly, but Daryl has a good heart. Just give him time to get used to this life, okay?”

Denise nods again, falling silent as you both finally stop at your house, with her waving at him and receiving a nod in response.

“Have a good night.” Her gaze meets yours, and you smile at her before she walks away to her own home.

And when Denisse is away, you chuckle as you walk over to the porch to sit next to Daryl.

“What’s so damn funny?”

“She’s terrified of you.” You chuckle even more as his brow furrows, his gaze on yours. “You scared the poor woman.”

Confused, Daryl watches the path Denisse took, for a few seconds before looking back at you.

“Did I do somethin' wrong?”

“No. It’s just that you’re so quiet that she feels kind of shy. But you could try talking to her a little, don’t you think?”

Even more confused, Daryl's gaze takes in an empty spot beside you, the white picket fence before looking back at you.

"What should I say?"

You shrug.

"I don't know. Maybe say something more than just a hey." When your hand makes contact with his cheek, Daryl leans into your touch. "Maybe show her that you are a sweetheart."

He scoffs.

"I ain't a sweetheart."

You chuckle.

“What are you talking about? You are a sweetheart with me.”

"Yeah, but jus’ ‘cause I love ya."

His words make you smile as you both lean into each other's lips. After Daryl let you in, you realized he had a lot to offer as a person with a good and brave heart. He was always a good company: he made you feel protected, in the old world too and even when you could protect yourself, but above all, it was damn cute to see him get embarrassed when you teased him, always masking his blush with a snort.

But when things got hot, like now, Daryl could be even hotter as you feel his hands on your waist, searching for the warmth of your skin under your t-shirt until he found it, sliding his calloused fingers over your flesh, sinking you into a new kind of desire. His touch is a silent plea for you to climb his lap, and you do, his hands holding you against him as his mouth takes yours in a hot kiss. Daryl chokes a grunt in your mouth, but you can feel his erection and he pushes your body down, dying to be inside you.

“Let’s do it here.” He says against your mouth. “S’dark and everyone is sleepin’.”

“Wow. That’s kinky.” You chuckle, your hands searching for his belt as he kisses your neck. But since life has a sense of humor, you can see the light of the living room turn on through the window, seeing Carol coming closer to the door. “Wait…”

Daryl growls in frustration, again when you get off his lap, but he learns forward a little bit to hide the bulge on his pants when Carol opens the door of the house you all share.

“Hey, guys, I thought you two were sleeping…” She says, smiling affectionately at you two. “I was looking for some water and I saw the kitchen light was already on, but… did I interrupt something?”

“No.” Daryl says looking over his shoulder, in a low, hoarse voice.

She looks at you, but you only smile shaking your head.

“Okay, then. Goodnight.” Carol waves her hand before closing the door again.

You wave her back, your own body falling against the railing.

“And… strike two.” You chuckle when Daryl lay down on the floor, covering his eyes with his arm.

That night, you may have used the shadows and darkness of your room to make love, but it still felt weird about doing it knowing that you and Daryl lived with Carol and Tara, even though you were a married couple, but at the same time, the thought made you laugh: because it felt wrong like the first time Daryl climbed through your bedroom window when you two were dating, before the world went to hell, because that night, everything became adult content.

The next morning, the day started early with you organizing the new medications that had been found during the last supply run, alone in the infirmary, accompanied by a comfortable silence as Denise took a day to explore her new relationship with Tara. And it was nice to think about that, in the mounting nerves that came with finding out things about the other person, the way you looked at her or him, the smiles and the shy laughs, the way your world suddenly seemed to fit together perfectly with them.

But when a knock on the door brings you out of your thoughts, you're surprised to see Daryl on the other side when you open it.

"What are you doing here, sir?"

"What? I can't visit ma wife at work?" He walks in, looking around as you close the door again. You walk back to the desk, stopping in front of the last few medicine bottles in the center. "On ma way here I saw Denise."

"You talked?"

Daryl, who was still walking around the room, stops, frowning in confusion.

"I'm not mute, woman."

You laugh.

"I didn't mean it like that, I meant that since we got here you haven't said more than one word to her."

Daryl mutters something under his breath, turning his attention back to the place as you continue reading the open book at your side. He spends like a minute or two in silence, reading the medicine descriptions from the shelves or touching the medical instruments, at least until you feel his body against you from behind, his hands on your waist as Daryl breathes in the smell of apples in your hair, thanks to the bottle of shampoo that came with the house.

Your tied hair gives him the freedom to kiss your exposed neck, and your belly flexes at the touch of his hands.

"I knew you came to see me for other reasons."

Daryl chuckles, and you breathe in, feeling the tingling between your legs.

“I've missed ya, I've missed the warmth of yer body.” His voice is always low, but it gets sexier when you feel that he’s that happy to see you. ““And we haven’t done it in weeks.”

You gulp, feeling his hand slipping down on the skin from your belly under your t-shirt, and your palms pressed against the wood when his hand gets lost under your jeans.

“Yeah, but–uh…” You gasp through your parted lips when Daryl rubs his fingers against your folds, over your underwear just to tease you.

“(Y/N)?”

But that is not his voice. Daryl removes his hand, cursing under his breath when you two see a person standing from the other side of the blur glass of the door. You sigh in frustration, but you chuckle too while walking towards it to opening. Rosita is smiling when your eyes meet, and you let her walk in.

“Hi, Daryl.” She says.

“Hey…” Daryl says back, leaning over the desk.

“Sorry to bother you, (Y/N), but I need something stronger than an aspirin. Abraham fell on his butt during the run and he keeps complaining.” She rolls her eyes. “Do you have something?”

You nod.

“Yes, of course.” You walk toward the shelf on the wall behind Daryl, smiling to yourself as he tries to hide his erection. You take two painkillers from a bottle and go back to Rosita. “If a man as big as he complains of pain it must be serious.”

“No. He’s just a big baby.” She smiles at you and Daryl, waving her hand before walking out. “Thank you. Bye.”

And she leaves, closing the door behind her. But when you turn, and to your surprise, Daryl doesn’t seem to be so frustrated as you think he would be.

“Whatever is going through your mind…” You chuckle. “It scares me.”

“I got an idea.” He smirks. “And this time ya ain’t escapin' from me, so finish quickly whatever ya're doin’ here.”

You narrow your eyes for a moment, giving him a confused look before finishing your chores.

But what is to come (pun intended) is about to come hard.

There, alone with him, your head falls back against the thin mattress inside the last cellblock, the view of the white ceiling disappearing when you close your eyes, and your mouth opens with a hot moan when Daryl makes you cum. Your grip on his hair loses strength as he gets up from between your legs to kneel, his hand replacing his tongue you to help you ride your orgasm. You let the air of your body go, finally going down from that high ecstasy after a moment as Daryl climbs over your body to be on top of you, shirtless, with his pants hanging now from his waist.

“That was just an extra.” He smiles sideways, part of his long hair covering part of his face, while your chest goes up and down with each breath.

“Yeah… I noticed it.”

Daryl chuckles getting up, but his smile falls when you two hear someone opening the front door of the basement.

“Stay here.” He says, fixing his pant as you put on your t-shirt that covers your thighs.

Daryl walks out of there, putting on his shirt as you put your jeans back on. Counting the few minutes in silence as you wait, he comes back frowning.

“Oh, no.” You chuckle. “What happened?”

“He jus’ came to read.” Daryl says, his voice full of sarcasm, lifting up his hands to mock of that person. “Yeah, right… I’m sure he jus’ wanted to jerk off in private.”

You laugh, falling on the mattress, laying down sideways to look at him.

“Who?”

“Eugene.” Daryl growls, pushing his hand through his hair. “Fuck…”

You keep looking at him: he’s frustrated even after making love, but Daryl looks so funny complaining for something so little.

“Come here.” You say opening your arms for him. “Come.”

Daryl exhales, his expression softening, and he walks towards you as you lay down on your back with him on top of you now, holding his face to kiss him softly before pulling apart to look into his blue eyes.

“Calm down, tiger: everything is fine.”

“Yeah… now it is.” He whispers with his lips an inch from yours, his deep gaze on yours. "But ya know what I was thinkin’?"

"What?"

"That s’bout time we got a fuckin’ house of our own, 'cause I'm tired of havin’ to sneak away to make love to ma wife."

You chuckle at his words, but they make you smile, too.

“I think that’s a very good idea, love.”

@fluffy-dixon

[littleakito]

awww babe i saw your recent post- I'm depressed as heck lately too, so I get that feeling. Imma drop some requests that could cheer u up bc I find them cute, but don't do them if you don't feel like it!

Little Mizuki wanting to play dress up and will settle for none but Kanade as the model, so Kanade gets to be a pretty princess

wxs all regress together and go on an adventure while playing princes and princesses

Emu brings Saki, An, and Mizuki to her house and they all age regress at the same time and wreak havoc on the Ootori household

Akito agere/petre in denial so he's just studying with Toya and Mizuki when out of the blue this idiot starts growling n stuff, so then he just sits there in terrified silence until Mizuki just looks him dead in the eyes and meows back. Toya just doesn't question it. He's too sigma.

Ena stress regressing, aggressively rings the entirety of nightcord 48795893 times until they pick up and starts babytalk yapping about all her opps

﹒﹒🐾﹕﹙HEADCANNONS & SHORT FICS﹚✦◝

Before I begin on all of these, thank you so much :( I saw that note a while ago and it helped lift my spirit a bit more. 🤍 love u lots

Now! These were all such yummy awesome ideas that I felt compelled to at least attempt write about them all, I hope this offering to the community is nutritious enough to last a bit haha.

✷﹒🎵🎀﹐LITTLE! MIZUKI & CG! KANADE﹕﹪

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1　 ﹒　Mizuki owns all sorts of pretty dresses and accessories, it’s just a matter of when and where she can style them accordingly on herself! So, occasionally, stylish bows and cute scarves go unused for months at a time,, ໒꒰ྀི´ ᵔ ` ꒱ྀིა

2　 ﹒　Once she’s regressed and sat by all of her friends, however, it’s almost impossible for her not to think of having them dress up with her! Knocking off those boring sweats for sparkly tutu’s sounds like a dream come true..

3　 ﹒　Convincing them, however, may simply be the most difficult part of this masterful plan of hers! ꒰ྀི⸝⸝ -᷅ ⤙ -᷄ ⸝⸝꒱ྀི১

4　 ﹒　A shake, a whine, and some cute puppy dog eyes are her ultimate tactic! And as the rest of the group exchange glances, she can’t help but giggle and kick her feet, there’s absolutely no way they can say no to her now!

5　 ﹒　Mizuki can’t help but grin as she holds up a gorgeous, puffy pink dress towards K. Helplessly accepting it, Kanade let out a light, breathy sigh in defeat.

6　 ﹒　Her plans succeeded! Her friends look soooo cute! K, especially!

7　 ﹒　It’s not until a silly, pink princess dress is being put over her head that she’s realized that she forgot to dress herself up! She giggles and squirms as the group fits it over her tshirt, today…

..today was an excellent day!

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﹙🎭﹚︰LITTLE! WxS﹐♫

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1　 ﹒　Practice was meant to go as normal, play the roles, review the lines, ask questions, riddle everyone’s brains over said questions trying to figure out the answers, give up, continue playing the roles, and then finish up for the day! It was far from such.

2　 ﹒　Whether it began with THE Tsukasa Tenma forgetting his lines and being brought to the verge of tears from it, Nene’s phone dying whilst she was seeking a break behind stage, Emu’s sadder thoughts being brought into question, or Rui receiving strange looks on his way to practice, it simply wasn’t a good day for anyone!

3　 ﹒　Frustrated with these turn of events, Tsukasa initiated a plan! Plan-Regressing-Solves-All! How exactly he would manage to coerce 3 people into little space whilst still upset himself..? Hmm, a true dilemma! But nothing a star can’t fix!

4　 ﹒　It began with Emu, a simple tap on the shoulder, a long stare whilst she babbled on with a smile on her face, then, he cleared his throat. The question was simple, and yet he couldn’t help the flush on his cheeks. In his mind, “would you like to play with me?!” Wouldn’t cut it! However..

5　 ﹒　With a big, squeaky laugh, and her eyes shut tight, a smile squeezing up her face, she shook him around, agreeing with a big nod and exclamation of how “this would be so fun!”

6　 ﹒　A success! And so, the two march onward, in search of an abnormally tall purple haired little, and a rather tiny grey haired girl! In their minds, Rui and Nene needed saving! Trapped within the tower! It was Emu and Tsukasa’s great duty to save them from this terror!

7　 ﹒　Rui wasn’t that hard to find! To ask, however… ahhh. Tsukasa shakes his head, and pulls at his sleeve gently, Emu jumping in for a big big hug, nearly knocking the boy over! “Play with us, Rui! Play with us!!” Emu nearly screamed, giggling and kicking her feet. Tsukasa, in return, nodded. Rui didn’t have the heart to deny…

8　 ﹒　Rui took much longer to drop than Emu, Tsukasa noted. That wouldn’t be much of an issue, though! Besides, they had a princess to save!

9　 ﹒　Nene, sat within a corner behind the stage, curled within herself, appeared to be sniffling. The three exchanged saddened looks at this, a frown melting onto Emu’s face as she broke out into a wail, running (quicker than the other two could, Tsukasa noticed) towards the girl, babbling out questions of “are you okay?” At her.

10　 ﹒　However, none of her words seemed coherent, so, Rui stepped ahead, asking the question for her (and the rest of them!) she stared back at him with teary eyes and explained. She had overheard them! And she believed she wasn’t invited to play!

11　 ﹒　This won’t do, not one bit! And so, Tsukasa holds out a hand to her, and declares that the world must witness the prettiest princes and princesses at once!

12　 ﹒　The day very quickly comes to a close with giggles and smiles, much different than the beginning of this story!

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﹢❛﹑🐕﹙LITTLE/PET!AKITO + MIZU & TOYA﹚＞＜ ⠀

1　 ﹒　Akito isn’t a fan of studying, this fact can be stated by anyone and everyone he’s ever spoken to. What he was a fan of, however, was making his partner proud.

2　 ﹒　So, when his teacher suggested after school lessons to kick his grade up a notch, he immediately sought out Toya, tail in between his legs as he began explaining his situation. Perhaps, a bit of shame was laced behind his words, but, he covered it up easily with a quick mention of Vivid BAD SQUAD, and how he was confident he wouldn’t have to miss any practices if he received a bit of help.

3　 ﹒　His brain felt fuzzy, in a way, as he began talking, it very quickly trailed off into silence and babbles of words that didn’t seem to make sense, not that he realized. Toya placed a hand onto his shoulder, and that jolted him out of his little trance, a muttered sorry coming his way.

4　 ﹒　Across the hall, Mizuki spotted Akito, a mischevious look playing onto her face as she crept up behind him. Toya eyed her, questioning what exactly she was planning on— ah..

5　 ﹒　Instead of a scream, or a yell, a bark flew her way, furrowing his eyebrows at her angrily. And yet, those words he had on his tongue to appear as rude as always disappeared. He huffed, defeated, and crossed his arms over his chest instead.

6　 ﹒　Whatever those two were talking about now didn’t matter to him, those looks he was being given, more. Had he seriously just barked at Mizuki Akiyama? What in Miku’s name was wrong with him, seriously..

7　 ﹒　It was no surprise to him that when he turned his ear away from their conversation, Mizuki had somehow found a way to join in on the studying. It wasn’t quite as if he could object to it now, anyway, they were well on their way to the spare classroom kept on the side of their school.

8　 ﹒　The studying began as boring as always, and it didn’t seem to become any less banal than ever as time progressed, and that.. stupid fuzzy feeling in his brain wouldn’t knock it off! It was enough to leave him frustrated, staring bullets at his paper.

9　 ﹒　After a bit of time, he felt different, less bored, yet still angered, and so, he growled.

10　 ﹒　Snarled and all, he rest his head against one of his hands propped up on the desk, fingers pulling at little hairs in his eyes. Toya gave him a strange look, as if he had just done something completely abnormal.

11　 ﹒　It couldn’t be more abnormal than those pants he was wearing.. and..

12　 ﹒　As much as he wanted to tell him to quit looking at him, before he had the chance, Toya’s voice sounded out, gentler than usual. His eyes softened, whether he’d admit to that or not, it was the truth. His shoulders became less stiff and his mouth was left slightly agape.

13　 ﹒　It only took him a mere 5 seconds to remember Mizuki was in the room, and so, he slumped against the desk. A light sound from in front of him was quick to appear, however, a soft, purr of a meow.

14　 ﹒　It was slightly slurred, and yet, Akito raised his head up and off of his desk to stare back at her. Meow..? Seriously, what the bark was this..

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↷﹒💄﹒LITTLE! ENA & N25﹒✶

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1　 ﹒　Everyday was a fight, whether Ena would admit that or not. Every waking moment was filled with some new thing for her father to scream at her over.

2　 ﹒　And so, when she sought comfort tucked within her room with a pencil and paper — a gentle melody in the back she was originally humming to — and the art began looking wonky and irregular, she huffed. It didn’t take much longer for another mistake to lead to her crumpling up the paper into her hand and letting out an angry scream at the world.

3　 ﹒　One pencil was snapped, and the pillows on her bed were now on the floor as she cried herself into a meltdown. One hand searching for her phone as the other found its way to her lips, sucking on her thumb.

4　 ﹒　Kanade was the first to join, and the first to hear her sobs of agony at every pencil and paper and father figure to have ever existed, then came Mafuyu, and lastly, Mizuki.

5　 ﹒　“Enanan..? What’s the matter?” She didn’t have an answer! Everything was the matter! Everything was wrong! Every piece of art! The Mona Lisa could burn for all she cared! She just..

6　 ﹒　She just wanted her caregivers! Was that so much to ask for..?! Her sobs and screams into her pillow started to become light sniffles as N25 worked their magic, letting her breathe without criticism.

7　 ﹒　She fell asleep nearly instantly, tears staining her face for the night.

8　 ﹒　And when she woke up, everyone was still on call with her, asleep or not, they were there. Along with a weird note right by her door with a pacifier attached to it. The note was sweeter than she’d like to admit.

9　 ﹒　Ugh…

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HELLO HELLO! This was a grand post to celebrate the new year! Thank you sososoooo much to everyone I’ve became friends with in the past few months, and for all of the support I receive day after day. I love you all sosososooooomuch it’s unbelievable!

I worked on this for 3 hours straight ahshjahsj… with the exception of changing music, texting my friends with pleas of prayers for this, and editing the cards obvi!

I hope this is okay, and I did in fact avoid one of them haha… maybe I’ll get to it another time..? It didn’t appeal to me this time, sorry..

once again, happy new years, late merry christmas & happy hanukkah! I hope everyone had a great month over the holidays, ily all sm. I’ll be getting to the rest of my requests soon enough once I’m not burnt out haha.. thanks<3

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[faithsotherhouseofchaos]

Hello, could I request an imagine with autistic reader and Mick where she keeps trying to break up with him because she gets embarrassed or insecure but he always ends up convincing her to stay?

You are enough||Mick Schumacher x autistic!Fem!reader

Word count — 836

Summary — after a while you begin to doubt yourself about your relationship with Mick but being the best boyfriend he is he reassures you that you are enough for him.

The living room was still, the rain outside the only sound. You stood near the window, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if trying to keep from falling apart. Mick sat on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. His presence was steady, grounding, but that only made the guilt gnaw at you harder.

“I think…” you started, the words feeling jagged and raw in your throat, “I think we should break up.”

Mick’s brows furrowed, his head tilting slightly as if he hadn’t heard you right. “What? Why? Where’s this coming from?”

You avoided his gaze, staring down at the floor. “Because I’m not good at this,” you said quietly, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “At being with you. At being in a relationship.”

He stood, but didn’t come closer, giving you space. “What do you mean? You are good at it. You’re good at us.”

A sharp laugh escaped you, bitter and unintentional. “No, I’m not. I never know what you’re feeling or what you’re thinking unless you say it out loud, and even then, I still second-guess myself. And then when I get overwhelmed, I shut down, and you have to fix everything.”

“Fix everything?” Mick repeated, his voice gentle. “You don’t need to be fixed, and I don’t think of it that way at all.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes as you tried to find the right words to explain what felt impossible to articulate. “But you don’t get it, Mick! You’re patient, and you’re good at this—at understanding people. And I’m… I’m just a mess. I can’t even figure out how to tell you how I feel half the time without freezing up or saying the wrong thing.”

Mick stepped forward, his voice soft but steady. “You think saying the ‘wrong thing’ means you’re bad at this? Babe, everyone struggles with communication sometimes. I’d rather you try and stumble through it than not talk to me at all. And if you freeze up, that’s okay too. I’m not going to get mad at you for needing time to process.”

You looked up at him, tears slipping down your cheeks. “But what if it’s too much one day? What if I’m too much? What if one day you get tired of waiting for me to figure out how to be normal?”

His face softened, and he slowly reached out, letting his hands rest lightly on your arms. “You’re not too much. You’re just enough—exactly enough. And I don’t need you to be ‘normal,’ whatever that even means. I want you to be you. That’s who I love.”

You shook your head, overwhelmed. “But I don’t know how to show you that I love you back. I try, but it feels like I’m never doing enough. You deserve someone who can give you everything you need without overthinking every little thing.”

Mick frowned, his hands gently sliding down to take yours. “You don’t think you’re showing me you love me? You do it all the time, babe. When you text me to make sure I got home safe. When you remember things I said weeks ago and bring them up. When you tell me about the stuff you’re passionate about, even when you think I won’t care—guess what? I care, because it’s you.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his words.

“You might not say, ‘I love you’ in the same way I do,” he continued, “but I see it in everything you do. And it’s enough. You are enough.”

“But it’s so hard, Mick,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Sometimes I can’t figure out how I’m feeling, let alone how to explain it to you. And then I feel stupid for not knowing.”

Mick’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand. “You’re not stupid for having a hard time with emotions. If you don’t know how you feel, that’s okay. I’ll wait. And if you can’t explain it, that’s okay too. We can figure it out together.”

Tears welled up again, but this time, they weren’t as heavy. “But what if I get overwhelmed again? What if I shut down and can’t talk to you?”

“Then I’ll sit with you until you feel ready,” Mick said simply, his voice unwavering. “I’ll remind you that you’re safe and that I’m here. You don’t have to go through that alone anymore.”

A choked sob escaped you, and Mick gently pulled you into his arms. “You don’t have to do this perfectly,” he murmured into your hair. “There’s no right way to be with someone, and I don’t expect you to get it all right. I just want you to let me love you.”

You buried your face in his chest, the storm in your mind slowly quieting as his words settled over you. “You promise you won’t leave?”

“I promise,” Mick said without hesitation. “We’re in this together, no matter how hard it gets.”For the first time, you let yourself believe him.