#but it's been a while so that's my defense

[itneverendshere]

okay we know rafes help reader in situations like with electricity and no car and such. but maybe it’s the first time where he knows he’s in love with her and she’s the one for him, where she doesn’t go to him for any help. and it’s maybe like not having enough money to buy groceries for herself, or how she walks to work still bc she can’t afford gas. and he gets so mad, and she thinks it’s an inconvenience to him. but it’s actually because rafe will always be there for her, and no matter what the problem is , he can fix it just for her

you got me overnight - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader(bartender!reader universe) warnings: first fight and confession 🫂

Rafe knew convincing you he was worth a shot was the easiest part of your relationship.

You were absolutely perfect, made to be his. He could picture you right now, the way you’d smile at his stupid jokes, the warmth of your hand in his, or how you’d send him those random "good morning" texts that hit him like a gut punch every time. You were everything. It wasn’t just the way you looked, although that obviously had him floored, but the way you thought about things, the way you cared about people. It was all of it. You gave a shit.

That was something new for him.

He never thought he’d get someone like you, someone who made him want to be better. It was months later, and he was hooked.

Totally gone. You were the real deal for him. Every time his phone buzzed with your name on the screen, it hit him in the chest. Hard.

So when you dropped it on him, casually, that you were walking to work because you didn’t have the gas money while he’d been away on a family holiday, it set off something inside him.

You said it like it was no big deal, like it was just another part of your day. He was losing it. The idea of you walking to work, sweating it out while he was chilling on vacation, made him feel sick. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. He didn’t understand why you didn’t tell him earlier, didn’t ask for help. Why didn’t you call him? He could’ve handled it in a second, no problem. You didn’t need to be doing stuff like that. 

“You’ve been walking to work?”

“Yeah… it’s fine. It’s not far,” you replied, brushing it off like it was nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing. Not to him. He knew how far your walk was.

He knew it wasn’t just around the corner. And you didn’t have to be doing this. Even if he hadn’t been there for the past week to give you a ride as he usually did, he could’ve taken care of it even if he was miles away. He was always here for you, even if he wasn’t physically there.

Rafe gripped the counter tighter, trying to keep his frustration under control, for your sake. “Why didn’t you say anything? You didn’t tell me you were low on gas.”

You gave a little shrug, as if that was the end of the conversation.

“Didn’t wanna bother you. It’s not your problem.”

Didn’t wanna bother him? Not his problem? You were his problem, the best kind of problem, and he couldn’t understand why you thought you had to handle everything by yourself. It pissed him off—not at you, but at the fact that you were doing this, struggling in silence. It was like you didn’t trust him to be there for you. 

You didn’t trust him enough to lean on him when you needed something.

“What do you mean it’s not my problem?” His voice came out harsher than what he'd hoped for, and you froze, eyes wide.

“Whoa. Chill,” you said, holding your hands up defensively. “I didn’t think you’d get so worked up about it. I can handle it.”

But that wasn’t the point. You shouldn’t have to handle it. Not when you had him. You were supposed to lean on him, to come to him when things like this came up. 

That’s what being together meant.

It was crazy to him. Every part of him wanted to protect you, to make sure you didn’t have to deal with anything like this on your own. The thought of you walking to work—tired, probably stressed out—while he was away doing nothing important...he hated it.

"You don’t have to handle it, though," he argued, voice softer now but still frustrated “That’s the thing. You don’t get it, do you? I want to help. I need to help. When you're struggling, that's my problem too. I wanna be there for you. Always.”

You looked at him like he was overreacting like he was making something out of nothing. “Baby, it’s not that serious. It’s just a couple of walks. You’re acting like I was in danger or something.”

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down, but it wasn’t working. "It's not about the fucking walks. It's the fact that you didn’t even think to tell me. Like I wouldn’t care.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples like you were tired of this conversation already. “I didn’t wanna bother you. You were on vacation. I didn’t want to stress you out over something so small.”

He didn’t know why it pissed him off so much, but it did. It was gnawing at him like a splinter under his skin, “You’re serious? You didn’t think it was worth mentioning?” 

You shifted on your feet, already defensive. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. I figured I’d just handle it.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” he snapped, stepping closer to you, his hand gesturing wildly. “You figured you’d handle it? What the fuck? Why would you think I wouldn’t want to know about something like this?”

“Because it’s stupid gas money, Rafe!” you fired back, your frustration bubbling to the surface now. “I didn’t wanna bother you with something so small! You were gone, and I didn’t want to make it a whole fucking thing.”

He could hear the irritation in your voice, but it just made him angrier.

You thought you were protecting him from being “bothered,” but all it did was make him feel like you didn’t need him. Like you didn’t think he could help, or worse, like you didn’t want him to.

“Small? Are you fucking kiddin’ me? You walked to work for how many days, in the heat, probably tired as fuck, and you think that’s small?” His voice was rising, and he hated that he couldn’t control it, but he was too worked up now. “It’s not about the gas money. It’s the fact that you didn’t tell me. You kept it to yourself, like I’m just some fucking dude who’s not in your life like that.”

You crossed your arms, your own frustration clear. “Rafe, you’re blowing this way out of proportion. I didn’t need to tell you because I can take care of myself. I’m not helpless.”

“That’s not what this is about!” he nearly shouted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “This isn’t about you being helpless or not! It’s about you letting me be there for you, letting me help you when things get tough. Shit. That’s what this is, what we are. You don’t fucking get it.”

“I do fucking get it, Rafe!” you snapped back, stepping closer to him, your eyes burning with misplaced anger. “But I don’t need to run to you every time something goes wrong. I’m not gonna fall apart because of a few days without a car.”

He was grinding his teeth now, trying to keep his composure but failing miserably. “It’s not about falling apart. It’s about the fact that you didn’t even think to lean on me! You didn’t trust me enough to just call and say, ‘Hey baby, I’m low on gas. Can you help?’ You shouldn’t have to figure it out on your own.”

You threw your hands up, exasperated. “I did figure it out! I walked. It wasn’t some huge disaster. I made it work.”

“But you shouldn’t have had to!” he yelled, his voice echoing in the kitchen. “Why can’t you get that? You don’t have to handle shit like this alone! I want to be there for you. I need to be there for you. Don’t you get that?”

You flinched at the volume of his voice, but you didn’t back down.

“You’re acting like I don’t care about us because I didn’t ask you to bail me out. I care, Rafe. But I can deal with things on my own, too. I’m not just gonna dump every little problem on you like it’s your job to fix everything.”

Rafe shook his head, running his hands through his hair for the millionth time, pacing now because he couldn’t stand still. “It is my job, though. That’s the whole fucking point. I’m supposed to be the one you come to when things go wrong sweets, big or small. I’m supposed to be the one who makes your life easier, not the guy you hide stuff from.”

You let out a frustrated laugh, disbelief coloring your tone. “Hide? Seriously? You think I’m hiding things from you? It was gas money, Rafe, not some deep, dark secret.”

“It feels like it, though!” he shot back, voice cracking slightly, betraying the emotion he’d been holding back. “It feels like you don’t trust me. Like I’m not… like I’m not enough for you to depend on.”

You went silent at that, your arms dropping to your sides as you stared at him, the tension between you thick and heavy. “That’s not fair,” you said quietly, shaking your head. “You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” his voice cracked slightly, “Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’m out here thinking I’m the one who’s supposed to have your back, but you’re just out there, dealing with stuff alone. It makes me feel like… I don’t know. Like I’m not even part of your life like that.”

“That’s not what this is,” you said, stepping toward him now, the fight draining out of your voice. “I didn’t ask you because I didn’t want you to worry. Not because I don’t trust you. I thought I was helping by not making you deal with it.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Helping? You think it helps me to know you’re struggling and didn’t say anything? That’s not helping. Shit, that’s torture, baby. I’d rather know and fix it than find out after and feel like an idiot because I wasn’t there.”

You sighed, rubbing your face with both hands, exhaustion settling in. “Rafe, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I didn’t think it was that serious.”

“It’s serious to me,” he said, his voice almost a whisper now, the anger ebbing away, leaving only the hurt behind. “Because I love you. And when you love someone, you don’t want them to handle things alone. You want to be there. Always.”

You froze, eyes wide as you stared at him. What? He hadn’t planned to say it like this, not in the middle of a fight, but there it was—out there and real.

“I love you,” he repeated, quieter this time. “And I need you to understand that means I’m here. For all of it. No matter how small it seems.”

He said it. He loved you. Maybe it wasn’t the best timing, but at least it was out of his chest. This man who had always been so intense, so fiercely protective, was looking at you like you held his entire world in your hands. And you did.

He loved you. That word—love—felt huge, almost too much. But it was what you had felt for him too. It was why you held back from asking for help, not because you didn’t trust him, but because you didn’t want to burden him with every little problem. You thought you were protecting him. Now, standing there, you realized maybe you’d gotten it wrong.

“You l-love me?”

“Yeah. I thought that was obvious by now.”

“Rafe…” you started, but he shook his head, his jaw clenched like he was bracing himself for rejection.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, turning away, his hand running through his face. “You don’t have to say anything. I just—I just needed you to know.”

“No.” You stepped forward, reaching for his hand before he could pull completely away. “No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to just say it and walk away like I’m not standing right here.”

His gaze shot back to yours, confused and a little bit guarded, like he wasn’t sure what to expect.

“I love you too,” you said, the words feeling right as soon as they left your lips. You squeezed his hand, needing him to feel it. “I love you, okay? I didn’t ask for help because I didn’t want to drag you into my mess. I thought I was being strong, handling things on my own. I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t need you. I do need you,” you continued, stepping closer, your voice trembling slightly. “And I know now that I should’ve just called. That I should’ve let you help me, because that’s what we do. We’re a team. I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

Rafe let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had just been lifted off him. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest, his grip almost desperate. You melted into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, feeling the calming thrum of his heartbeat.

“You’re not a burden,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You’ll never be a burden. I just—I need you to let me be there for you. I don’t care what it is. Big or small, I wanna know. I wanna help.”

You nodded against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, letting the warmth of his skin calm you.

“Okay. I promise.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. There was something in his eyes now that hadn’t been there before—relief, maybe, but more than that. Love. He felt you relax against him, your body molding into his.

“Say it again,” he murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You chuckled softly, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palm. “I love you, Rafe.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours. “I need you to get something,” he said softly, his voice much calmer now “When I say I love you, I’m not just saying it. I mean it. Like… for real. I’m in this, all the way.”

You blinked up at him, your eyes wide “I—” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off gently.

“No, listen,” he interrupted, “I’ve never felt like this before. You’re everything. And I love you for it. I love every single part of you.”

He felt his chest tighten as he said it, like the words were coming from somewhere so deep inside him that he hadn’t even realized they were there until now. But they were, and they were real. He didn’t just love you—he needed you. He wasn’t sure if you’d even processed it yet. Then, slowly, you grinned, your eyes glistening just a little. 

 “This just… it feels so big. Holy shit, bigger than anything I’ve ever felt.”

“That’s because it is big,” Rafe said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours again. “It’s the biggest thing in the world to me. You are.”

Your breath hitched, and he could feel you trembling slightly in his arms. You reached up, cupping his face with your hands, and for the first time since the fight started, Rafe felt like you were really seeing him. Not just in that moment, but all of him—the guy who was scared out of his mind at how much he needed you, but who was willing to do anything to keep you close.

“I love you too,” you said it again, your voice shaking a little as you said it. “I’m sorry.”

 “We’re in this together,” he kissed your knuckles, his own fingers gently brushing through your hair. “No more going through stuff alone. Not you, not me. We’ve got each other now.”

You smiled, and Rafe felt like he could breathe again, really breathe, for the first time all night. “Deal,” you whispered.

And right there, he knew that everything was going to be okay.

Because you weren’t just someone he loved—you were his person. 

[gyubakeries]

𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 | c.sc (f)

a/n: for some reason the ask got deleted 😭 but an anon asked for something scoups related, so, anon, if you're seeing this, hi! thanks for requesting! i kept brainstorming, and finally came up with this, so i hope you like it! (sorry the ask got deleted im hopeless w technology 😭)

word count: 2.1k contents: seungcheol x afab!reader , gymbro!cheol , i have 0 gym knowledge forgive me , seungcheol and reader are dating , bullying mingyu is a canon event , lots of fluff , cheol being a green flag as always , slight angst , mentions of insecurities (but they have healthy communication about it!) , just overall cute vibes !

"i wanna go to the gym with you."

seungcheol looks up from his phone to direct his gaze at you. it's a thursday night, a rare day off for the both of you, and you had been in the process of selecting a movie for the night when you suddenly spoke.

"what?" seungcheol asks again, not sure if he heard you right the first time.

"i want to go to the gym with you," you repeat, meeting seungcheol's eyes reluctantly, trying to mask your ulterior motive with a smile.

seungcheol was taken aback, but don't get him wrong. he was a regular at the gym, but in your last three years of dating, he had never heard you wanting to accompany him to the gym. instead, you'd always said that you'd rather be at home than be surrounded by sweaty people, including seungcheol himself.

so why the sudden interest?

"babe, everything okay?" seungcheol asks. he knows asking questions may seem rude, but he notices the way the smile you're shooting at him doesn't feel genuine at all.

"yeah! i just wanted to see what was so great about the gym for you to spend hours there," you say, making up an excuse on the fly, hoping you sounded convincing enough.

seungcheol knew you through and through, and he also knew that you weren't telling him the entire truth. but instead of prying, he decides to agree to your request.

"alright,come with me tomorrow," he nods. "it's gonna be pretty intense though. mingyu tells me i'm a really strict gym trainer." he jokes.

"it's okay," you laugh, finally cracking a real smile. "i have a feeling i'll become your favorite student in no time."

"we'll see about that," seungcheol teases, and you drop the topic, shifting your attention back to choosing a movie.

seungcheol needs to get to the bottom of this.

-

the next day, seungcheol comes home from work, and like clockwork, he changes into his workout clothes and grabs his gym bag, ready to head out, but-

something feels different about today though....

"excuse me? were you forgetting your star student at home?" comes your voice, and he finally remembers. he turns to see you waiting in the kitchen, and any suspicions he had about your strange request melt away at the sight of you dolled up in the cutest workout fit. your hair was up in a ponytail, and you were wearing a baby pink sports bra with a matching pair of leggings. you even had a cute duffel bag packed with you.

"aw, baby, you look adorable," he coos. he walks towards the kitchen and stops in front of you to place a kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into a hug. "also, i'd never forget my favorite student." he says defensively, and you laugh at his cuteness.

"sure, big guy," you chuckle. "let's get going, shall we?"

-

whatever worries had left his brain when he saw you at home had come back to him ten-fold at the gym. he started you off with some basic warm-up exercises and then the treadmill. the both of you jogged next to each other for a while. you had found all of this manageable until now, even though all the physical exertion had made you all sweaty, which in turn made you uncomfortable. you mask your uneasiness though, not wanting to alert seungcheol.

but he had already seen the signs of discomfort on your face. after the treadmill, he decided that he needs to take you home.

"i'm actually feeling really tired today, babe," he fake-yawns while you're sipping on some water. "how about we go home now and come back another day?"

"woah, you're tired just from some cardio?" someone speaks up from behind him, and it's mingyu.

how is he always at the gym?? seungcheol wonders, cursing mingyu's timing.

"i just had a long day at work. what are you doing here?" seungcheol rolls his eyes.

"working out, duh," mingyu retorts. "didn't you clock in late to work today, though? i've seen you less tired while you were working on three days of no sleep."

seungcheol really wants to punch mingyu in the face right now.

"if you're really feeling tired, we can head home," you butt in before seungcheol throws a dumbell at mingyu.

seungcheol would be relieved, if not for the way you look dejected and upset, and seungcheol would rather walk through fire than be the reason for that frown on your face, so he relents.

"it's okay, i'm feeling fine," he smiles. "we can continue, baby."

"just don't be all gross and couple-y," mingyu adds, and quickly scurries away before seungcheol can elbow him in the stomach.

after mingyu leaves, seungcheol gets you started on some basic squats. he shows you the correct posture, even helps you for the first few times till you get the hang of it.

finally, you gain the confidence to do the squats on your own, so you start off with a goal of completing 10. by the time you're on squat number 4, there's a burn in your thighs. you've heard people saying that it's supposedly a good burn, but right now, it's making you feel like your legs are going to snap into two, like twigs.

not wanting to embarrass yourself, you push through the remaining squats, collapsing to the floor after you finish them.

"hey! that was great!" seungcheol smiles cheerily. "i'm so proud of you. let's take a break and then we can move onto something else."

the next challenge: push-ups.

while you weren't a frequent gym-goer, you had an idea of how a push-up should be done. guided by seungcheol's instructions, you find yourself in the position to carry out some push-ups. once again, you set a goal of 10 and you start.

at push-up number 7, your arms give out and you lose your balance, your forehead bumping with the ground.

"shit. y/n, are you okay?" seungcheol is by your side in a blink, helping you up into a sitting posture. you look around the gym, and thankfully there weren't a lot of people around to see your disastrous attempt at push-ups, but you still felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"i'm sorry," you sniffle, tears welling up in your eyes as seungcheol gently rubs your forehead. "i'm sorry for being bad at this."

seungcheol freezes when he sees you cry. he knows you, and you weren't the type to cry from such a small failure. the uneasiness twists his gut; something is really wrong.

"baby, you have nothing to be sorry for," he says, tone firm yet gentle. "let's go home and talk about this, okay? you did a good today, and you should rest."

leaving no room for negotiation, you let seungcheol gather both your belongings and walk you back home.

once you reach your shared apartment, you're aware of how sweaty and gross you are, your nose crinkling with disgust.

"i need to shower..." you mumble.

"you can head in first. call me if you need anything, okay?" seungcheol suggests. "i'll start on dinner."

you nod timidly and head towards the shower. a long and relaxing shower later, you're emerging from the bedroom in your comfiest pajamas, and a red spot on your forehead from the incident at the gym. you walk into the kitchen to see seungcheol putting down dinner on the table, freshly showered.

"you used the guest bathroom?" you ask, and he nods. you can tell that there's something on his mind, and you know its related to what happened today. knowing seungcheol, he likes to communicate whatever he has on his mind to maintain trust between you, so you eat dinner in silence, anticipating the conversation after.

once the dishes are washed and put away, you quickly go to bed, hoping to avoid any tough conversations by falling asleep early. but seungcheol is too aware of your tendencies, so he follows you to the bedroom, sitting next to you on the bed as you lay down.

"does it hurt a lot?" he asks, breaking the silence.

"my forehead? not that much. but the rest of my body is really sore," you admit truthfully.

"should i get you a painkiller for it?" seungcheol offers, and you shake your head. you've seen him come home from the gym complaining of sore muscles, but he never takes any medication for it, and you don't want to seem weak for doing so.

"you can take one, it won't make you weak," seungcheol says, as if he's read your thoughts. "what's going on, baby? i know something is bothering you, tell me what it is. let me help you."

the gentle tone to his voice makes you tear up immediately. you bring your hands up to your face as you cry. an alarmed seungcheol is quick to hug you, whispering comforting words into your ear.

once you've calmed down, you realize it's time to tell him the truth.

"i wanted to have something in common with you. all our friends and their partners have a shared interest. mingyu and his girlfriend love cooking, wonwoo and his girlfriend like photography; even minghao managed to end up with someone who loves tea as much as him. i just wanted to share something with you. i realized that you and i don't have a lot in common. everyone says 'opposites attract' but to what extent? that's why i thought of going to the gym, so that we could have something to share."

seungcheol is silent for a few moments, and you bite the inside of your cheek nervously while you wait for his response.

"y/n, you're the one person on this earth i have found a perfect match in. you and i have a lot more in common than you think. like the fact that you're the only person who supports my 'dipping french fries in milkshake' agenda," seungcheol cracks a soft smile, holding your hands in his.

"you don't have to force yourself to do things just to share an interest with me, baby. i love you for who you are. you're a wonderful artist, and i'm absolutely pathetic at drawing basic human figures. that doesn't mean we don't work together," seungcheol explains, hoping that his words make sense to you.

"i know, but i just- i just got worried that one day you'd be tired of having to deal with someone so different from you," you sigh, confessing the thought that had been plaguing your mind for a few weeks. "i don't want to lose you, cheol. that's why i did all this. but all i've really done is embarrass myself..."

seungcheol's lips draw into a pout as he crawls onto the bed, laying down next to you. he covers both of you under the blanket and pulls your body closer to him, your head cradled against his chest, and his arm wrapped around your waist.

"i'll never get tired of you. you're the love of my life, and i like the fact that every day we spend together, i get to learn something new about you. there's a familiarity in that too, you know?" he says, and the warmth in his voice makes your heart melt.

"ever since the day i met you, i've wanted to know who you are. i've wanted to know what makes you smile and cry, what food you don't like so i'll never bring it up, what your favorite disney princess is, even how much sugar you like in your coffee. and i'm so grateful to be able to learn every small thing about you, because that's how i show my love for you."

you pull away slightly from his embrace, meeting seungcheol's soft gaze.

"i love you the way you are, and no amount of differences could ever stop me from loving you. even if you were the north pole and i was the south, i'd do everything in my power to be with you, you get that?"

"how'd i get so lucky?" you whisper, eyes welling up again. "i love you too, so much. you- you made me cry, you idiot." you chuckle wetly, slapping his chest playfully.

"you're just a sap," seungcheol teases, but he rubs your back comfortingly nonetheless. "anyways, you're not going to be following me to the gym just for the sake of it anymore. i already think you're perfect the way you are, but if you ever do want to go, you should do it only because you want to, okay?"

"you don't have to worry about it," you dismiss his concerns. "from the second i step foot into the gym and got attacked by the stench of sweat, i promised to never come back."

"hey! that's rude!" seungcheol gasps dramatically. you can only laugh at the way a grown, 29 year-old man pouts like a toddler.

yeah, you really were lucky to have him.

-fin.

[phoenixyfriend]

Weird Egg?

Okay so in theory, Obi-Wan was plausibly on Mandalore when Anakin was born, right?

(this is technically a variation on a few other fics and AUs I've seen, and I'll list the stuff that came to mind at the end.)

While on Mandalore, Obi-Wan finds An Egg while hiding in a cave with Satine. And he doesn't recognize it, and Satine doesn't recognize it, and even Qui-Gon doesn't recognize it.

Which makes it weird, at the very least, and probably rare. It's the size of his HEAD and even though there's no parent around, the egg is… warm, now? He didn't notice at first, but it's definitely producing at least some of its own heat.

So Obi-Wan brings the egg with him, which is a pain in the ass in terms of maneuvering, but they do seem to have better luck avoiding Death Watch than before, which uh. Given that the egg feels warmer when they're getting lucky, and seems to glow in the Force, they think might not be a coincidence. A lucky rock, except it's alive.

Mission ends. Obi-Wan plans to take the egg back to the temple for study in case they just discovered Something, and as he's saying goodbye to Satine… the egg Hatches.

It is a dragon.

The dragon can project words into Obi-Wan's mind. It's not quite capable of complex thoughts yet, but it's a he (probably), and has a name (Anakin!), and considers the person who's been carrying him and protecting him and keeping him warm for the past six months to be his mom!

Obi-Wan protests at this. Qui-Gon decides to make his life harder with the 'correction' that Obi-Wan would be a dad, not a mom.

So now Obi-Wan has a small dragon which will be growing to the size of a house, that imprinted on him and is following him home and calling him dad and insisting on sleeping in his bed

Idk if you've ever read Septimus Heap, but… the MC of that found a Fancy Rock, put it in his bag, carried it around for a YEAR because he kept forgetting to take it out of his bag, and then it hatched into a dragon. And I kept thinking about that the whole time I wrote this.

In Obi-Wan's defense, he does Have A Plan.

Until the dragon hatches, turns out to be a sapient as a toddler (with promise of growth), and calls him Dad.

And now the plan is gone.

He just wanted to bring a cool egg back to the Temple for study!

And now the Mandalorians are pulling out old books about whatever the fuck this is because these things APPARENTLY went extinct around the same time as the underwater dragon-adjacent thing that is the Mythosaur.

Obi-Wan learns that supposedly the eggs are inert until something with the Force interacts with it in a Purposeful Manner.

Which includes "probing it a little to see if whatever is inside is actually alive."

Anakin's a standard western dragon that can breathe fire because Flyte. Also this post.

Weeeee okay small text for the references I mentioned.

Obviously, first up is the Septimus Heap series by Angie Sage, specifically Magyk and Flyte.

The fic series I was thinking of initially that kind of jumpstarted the AU process was Boga Service Varactyl AU, but specifically Kenobi Kafé Service Animal Boga AU.

I've been seeing a couple of dragon shapeshifter AUs, including that post I linked earlier from @ahsoka-in-a-hood, @bubblew0lf1's dragon shapeshifter AU, and @squad-724's Dragon Jedi AU has been all over my dash for the past few days.

Stubborn to the Bones by @tideswept, which was part of what had me connecting the various dots of Obi-Wan Finding Animal Anakin on a mission, though our outcomes are admittedly very different lol. (Their fic is shippy, and mine is more decidedly gen/familial with a slight nod to Obitine.)

[yyawnjun]

hello! hehe can i req how piwon would act with s/o who have lower body temperature on average? like wydm you're shivering... it's autumn. tqvm babe!!!! 😆

PIWON with a s/o who has lower body temperature on average

AYY!! first piwon ask, it felt so special, tysm for requesting it. I hope I get it right, like his s/o is actually" feel the cold"(tell me if I didn't get it, I will change and rewrite). I hope you will like it <3 ; I also wrote hcs for the first timee, how are we feeling !!

fluff ; @sobun1est MY FAAAVVV PROOFREADER even during my phone cb </3 ; 1.7k wc ; @kflixnet

YOON KEEHO

☆ i feel he'd be confused at first, like wdym you mentioned that you needed to take your jacket when your going out during a SUMMER night for your date.

☆ if there would have been a little breeze, it should not have been THAT cold. anyway he remembered what you said, and when you were about to leave your place to go out for dinner he noticed that you didn't take your jacket.

☆ he was about to remind you, but he saw first HIS jacket lying on the sofa. so he opted to bring it…so you'd be forced to wear his

☆ even though you had warned him that you were more sensitive to the cold than the others bc of your low body temperature, he was still shocked when he noticed that you were starting to feel cold while you were walking near the sea.

☆ he was holding your hand and he noticed it getting colder, and you were shivering while looking for your coat.

☆ “were you looking for this” he'd say in the most cheesy tone ever while handing you his jacket

☆ you'd be confused at first bc you were searching YOURS.

☆ but then you'd accept it after realizing the sweet gesture, and he just laughs a bit, trying to be cool but internally feeling so proud while seeing you with his jacket!!!!

☆ I feel this would happen so many times that you'd just start always using his jackets instead of yours. they still smelled like him and reminded you of him, plus his style is fire; a total win for you (and for him)

☆ I also think that you'd have to remind him a few times about your low body temperature, and even so, he'd have trouble remembering, but it would become like a tradition for him to ALWAYS bring an extra jacket to give you 😭😭.

CHOI TAEYANG

☆ here me out. third date with theo, and you're sitting on a bench in a park. It's like late evening on an autumn day, so it was a bit colder than usual and a light wind was moving the leaves.

☆ while he was talking, you'd start shaking a bit, trying to keep it cool for as much as you can while doing your best to not look too mesmerized by the big jacket he was wearing.

☆ he had immediately noticed that your outfit was too light for the evening (but in your defense, it was too cute to be covered up!) but he hadn't said anything (except how pretty you looked)

☆ he would notice how cold you were, but he would also be quite cold because of the weather.... so in the first few minutes, he would be torn between offering you his jacket or not (you did not dare to ask him for it…)

☆ BUT IN THE END OFC HE GAVE IT TO YOU, without saying anything…just in time for you to not catch a cold.

☆(he would then feel guilty for doing it so late when you explained to him that bc of your lower temperature, you felt much more the cold,,)

☆ he would scold you a little because you were dressed too lightly!!!. and you needed to take care of yourself (otherwise, how could you have gone out on dates again!).

☆ but I promise he'd BLUSH so hard after hearing that you cared so much about your outfit for him that you choose it over your own good😭😭

☆ in the end, I also feel that it would be you two sharing his jacket on the bench (on one hand bc he wanted to be closer to you, on the other bc you needed more warmth!)

☆ and he was getting cold too, but he'd never admit it </3.

☆ it would be just the two of you, sharing the same jacket as a comforting warmth spread.

HWANG INTAK

☆ I feel intak would be the exact opposite of you

☆ he'd be like a warm heater all of the time. I think that just being around him would warm you up.

☆ and oh boy, how much he'd use this excuse to stay closer to you.

☆ “we need to sit next to each other! bc what if you start getting colder and we are far away” - cit intak after moving his chair next to yours in a romantic restaurant just bc he wanted to eat next to you.

☆ he'd be your personal giant hotpack 24/7, and when he isn't w you, he'd give you some of his hot packs/hoodies to use in case you needed

☆ how much he'd brag about your different "perception” of temperature. he would use this excuse to grab your hand ALWAYS, no matter if you were actually shivering or not

☆ like imagine you're mad at him, and hes just like a super sweet golden retriever that came closer to you and take your hand

☆ “otherwise you would be cold” he whispers while not looking at you.

☆ and HOW can you stay mad at him, while his hand is warming up yours and you two are walking together..and your gazes keep meeting..

☆ or imagine sharing a blanket with him during a cold winter; while watching TV you'd have not only the warmth from the cozy blanket but also from the heat of your boy!!

☆ (And I picture him wearing only a light shirt and short pants while being a heater for you without even noticing but LOVING the closeness to you).

CHOI JIUNG

☆ I feel he'd be the most WORRIED and so the most caring between all of them <3

☆ not only hotpack, but also scarfs, jackets, hats, etc. his backpack would always be so full of things to keep you warm anytime😭

☆ I can see him even find out about the “causes” and what he could do to help you in all situations; esp at first he'd keep asking how you wereand if you needed something

☆ imagine being at a party with jiung, maybe you were there with your friends now sitting somewhere while laughing and drinking

☆ and you suddenly feel something or someone putting his arms around your shoulders and his head on yours.

☆ “your face is cold” he said after kissing your cheeks. “wanna go home?” he'd ask you. and after you asked for five more minutes he'd RUN to bring you his jacket <3

☆ and the way he'd giggle and smile when he sees how helpful he is everytime.

☆ this boy would ended up forgetting to bring his own things to always have yours, and you'd force him to wear your sweaters

☆ and now you'd be the one giggling and smiling for his new style. <3

HAKU SHOTA

☆ silently helping you ALWAYS. I imagine it while you were waiting for the bus to come and you'd start shaking a little, maybe complaining out loud how cold the weather was getting

☆ the boy wouldn't wait a sec before taking you by the hand and bringing you to the nearest coffee shop. hot chocolate? hot tea? yes. you'd have that in front of you before you could even REALIZE where you were.

☆ “put some sugar, it will help to your temperature to come back to normal”

☆ I feel that in some magic way he'd already known that you were getting too cold outside. and no matter how important it was to take that bus, your health was more important anyway.

☆ and i feel he would start memorizing some coffee places to bring you in case you were out and you were feeling cold all of sudden.

☆ i am so sure he'd always have hot packs with the funniest decorations for you

☆ and he'd always remind you to bring your coats, you two would even have like one specific emoji and you'd just remember to bring it

☆ “we should hold hands, so mines can warm yours” he'd say naturally while taking your hand (and blushing a lot but w/o adding anything or looking at you)

☆ so you two would just start walking hand in hand, saying that it was for your own good!(And you and you have never denied this…)

KIM JONGSEOB

☆ I feel he'd find it funny how you were always cold while it was so hot outside. he’d tease you at first, "c’mon it's autumn and you are already so cold..this winter might be the end of you"

☆ but as soon as you'd take five minutes to explain him how the affects you the fact that have lower body temperature on average he'd feel bad for joking about it and he'd start taking you more seriously 😭

☆ still, it would take him a while to get used to it. and there would have been times when you two would be forced to run a bit bc you were starting to be really cold. and he had no other options other than “run a little to warm up”

☆ i can't stop picturing seob and his s/o while walking together during an early morning(maybe going to school together!!) and by chance seeing a cat on the street.

☆ you would immediately get closer to the cat and seob would follow. you two would slowly try to get closer to pet the cat and you'd magically succeed!! you two would start petting the cat and he would feel how cold your hands were.

☆ “yn are you cold?” he says while gently stocking your hands.

☆ and one slight nod was enough for him to take your hands and try to use his to warm you up. he would take your hands and caress them, while bringing them closer to his face to give you hot air and warm them up.

☆ and if this isn't enough he'd have the perfect idea after remembering how cats were able to warm themselves thanks to their fur.

☆ and now there is two options for how it goes

☆ OPTION ONE: he manages to take the cat and gently put it on your legs. so now you just sit with him next to you, while the warm of the cat would warm u up too <3

☆ OPTION TWO: you two would ended up running after that poor cat, and you would inevitability warm up bc of the run (run method never fails)😭

[pilot-boi]

White Knight Time Travel idea : People are suspecting..

Jaune and Weiss are at the Vytal Festival , each one with their respective teams , their mission has gone..well.. so far. Even without trying to change so much some things never change like Team CVFY and Prof.Port saving the city or Ruby meeting Penny...

But that doesn't matter compared to the titanic work they would have to do during this specific moment..it was now or never

~Weiss Side~

Ruby:WE DID IIIT!!!!....Anyone esle is starving?....

Weiss listened to Ruby and Blake's chat from the side , each time they have this small moments the more she thinks how everyone took Beacon's days from granted

Having to relieve the fight against Team ABRN made her notice how..unprepared they were ; even herself with her "Competent" perfomance wasn't still not enough to face that monster..

Weiss..

The Grimm entering Beacon..

Weiss..

The Witch's inner circle playing right under their noses..

WEISS..

Pyrrha and Penny along many other students being casualties of the..

WEISSS!

Weiss:W-W-What?!

Yang: Your scroll is ringing , shouldn't you answer it?

Weiss noticed her scroll , the contact named "FATHER"..

Right..her time at Beacon was almost up..

Weiss:I will call him later , thanks for making me know Yang..

The Blonde Brawler has noticed her friend weird..this last few day , she can't say why..but it's there , spacing out of chats most of the time or reacting to certain words like Destiny , Maiden or even mentioning locations like Haven Academy can get her all shaky

Right now Ice Queen is looking at her Sis talking with Emerald and her silent friend like she's trying way too hard to keep herself civil , her face may not show it but that tense posture and hands behind shouted something was wrong

And to say the last person she saw acting this way her Dad after..her Supermom left was all she needed to know , Ice Queen's hiding something and she will find out

~Jaune's side~

Jaune did miss Beacon , the academy.. , but coming right back wouldn't make it any better..quite the contrary it shows him how somethings must remain as memories..

The Vytal Festival just started and the mood seems festive enough for him to enjoy a little. Children playing around , teens being themselves truly a moment to breathe fresh air

Miss : Gather around as I tell the story of the Girl who fell through the World!

Jaune tenses hearing that , it's just a woman reading a story to a bunch of kids..nothing dangerous..

Yet..

He takes a look at his armour , clean not rusted..his face is still young and Crocea Mors is still complete..

Ren: Jaune?

Jaune:W-What?!

Nora: You have been standing there for a while , did the story peak your interest? Alyx's story is a classic! The Curious Cat is my favorite character! So mischevious!

If looks could kill , Nora's smile would have been erased a while ago..

Jaune:That Cat is nothing but troubles..

Nora:What? Don't tell me you are a fan of the Red Prince? Or the Rusted Knight?

Sensing hostility , Ren tried to change the topic..

Ren:Why don't we go with Pyrrha? She's saved us a nice spot in that Mistralian restaurant.

Both teammates agree , Nora leaves because she has won another petty argument..but Jaune seemed so personal about it..The Girl who fell through the World is just a Children's story..why is he so defensive about it?

Lie Ren is someone who can read the room quite well and to his knowledge..there's something wrong with Jaune..

He acts like..an adult sometimes , there's nothing wrong with that but it seems off..

Even their stategies , they are a group of Four , Team JNPR..but Jaune always acts like only Nora and him are part of the team

Ren even hears his silent sobs when he has nightmares , the words "Cinder" "Kill" "Penny" "Pyrrha" is all he has as evidence , trying to make sense of said word it would be something like

Cinder will kill Pyrrha and Penny

That sounded so..dumb , Cinder is a student along her team but he would ask Jaune later right now they have a fight to win

👀👀👀

So many of these WK Time travel asks are from their POV, I LOVE this look into their friends’ view

[itsyaboighostie]

Murder Drones Au where Uzi is a just a fucking door and Khan's love for Doors is just him adoring his daughter.

While constructing the doors, Khan and Nori built Project Unified Zone Intelligence, an AI program that has full access to the entire bunker with the purpose of maintaining and protecting its occupants from Disassembly Drones and environmental threats caused by the planet's toxic atmosphere.

Everything begins with Khan making a joke about the Project being the closest they'll get to having an actual child, which sparked the ever brilliant idea between the two to give the AI a personality and sentience by mixing both of their codes and modifying it to fit the systems non-Worker Drone programming and formatting. Of course the AI is no use if it's infected by the Absolute Solver, so with a bit (read: a lot) of tinkering on Nori's side with the Cross Patch, Uzi was born!

A few things/events/facts to note for this AU:

When they first released the Untrained Neutral Network into the system, they limited her access to just Doors and lights. Having told none of the other Workers about Project U.Z.I. in fear of someone sabotaging it for whatever reason, the entire bunker was left confused when the doors would randomly lock or open and the lights would flicker with no rhyme or reason.

The couple would go around bragging about their new daughter to everyone, but when asked to see her they would bring up a (horrible) excuse as to why no one should see her. For years everyone thought they were just making her up.

Uzi loved to play with her parents by closing the doors on them as they're about to walk through, this of course led to Khan constantly baby talking doors at random, which then led to the nickname "Doorman" given to him by other Drones.

Khan took this as a new badge to wear and thus the Doorman family was created.

When Uzi got older, she was given more access to the bunker. Come time when most young Drones in her generation are given their Adult Models, Uzi was finally given a body of her own and complete control over the entire bunker. This is also when people realize Uzi wasn't just a delusion made up by her parents.

Khan doesn't stop talking to his daughter through doors even after she was given a physical body, which led to a lot of embarrassment for Uzi when he wouldn't stop the "doors are my real daughter" jokes.

Because she was given a body way later than her peers, she often struggled with walking and talking which caused a lot of bullying from her peers.

After mastering basic motor skills, Uzi went on to start building herself other bodies using spare parts she scavenged from outside. These can range from spare bodies in case something happens to her current one to Dissembly Drone-esque models crafted for the purpose of defense should an actual one get in.

Up to the current canon timeline, no one still knows that Uzi has complete control over the entire bunker.

She meets N when scavenging parts for an upgrade she's been working on that requires a lot of Worker Drone cores, an upgrade that consists of allowing the entire bunker to be mobile and move.

Everything basically plays out the same except Uzi has a bit more of an advantage against the Murder Drones mayhaps 👀

[bangpop91]

The Breakfast Aisle

I am finally caught up! This is is my story for Day 5 of @bucktommypositivityweek and today's prompt is coming out scenes. I hope you all enjoy this short little drabble.

Buck and Tommy had a rare Saturday where both of their days off lined up, so they were taking advantage of it to spend time together while catching up on domestic chores and errands. That morning they’d already gotten the laundry sorted and several loads of laundry finished, written up their meal plan and shopping list for the week. Currently they were traversing the grocery store, getting their weekly groceries and picking up the ingredients for the chopped salad and Tiramisu they had been told to bring to the 118 family barbecue that evening.

They were in the middle of the breakfast aisle comparing the nutrition labels for two different brands of pancake mix that proclaimed to be high in protein.

“Buck?” He turned around at the familiar voice, not expecting to see Taylor standing there with her own basket of groceries over her arm. 

“Hey Taylor.” He says, doing his best to be friendly. Their breakup had been as amicable as it could have been given all of the circumstances of the last few months of their relationship. He might not be the biggest fan of her tell-all book about the 118 but he is grateful she protected their identities at least. “How've you been?” He asks, trying not to sound uncomfortable as Tommy sticks the chosen brand of pancake mix into their cart and marking it off the list.

“I've been good, really busy.” Buck nods, he's sure. Last he'd seen online Taylor had been picked up by a major news outlet as an investigative journalist. “How've you been?” The conversation is awkward and stilted despite their best efforts.

“Good, busy as well.” He says vaguely. Tommy is patient as ever, letting Buck try to wrap up the conversation while answering a text on his phone. Taylor nodded uncomfortably, shifting her stance.

“Um, who's your friend?” She asks nodding towards Tommy, who snorts at the question.

“This is Tommy, my boyfriend.” He says doing his best to maintain the attempt at friendly yet awkward conversation. He watches as a complicated emotion flashes across Taylor's face before settling on neutrality.

“You're gay.” She says flatly and it makes him feel defensive. After figuring he's bi, and started coming out he had thought that would be it. He'd be out. He hadn't anticipated that he would be spending the rest of his life coming out or having to clarify his label.

“Bisexual.” He responds defensively. Taylor looks like she wants to say more.

“We should keep going, Darlin. We still have a lot to do today before the barbeque at Bobby and Athena's new place.” Buck could kiss Tommy for giving him an out to end this awkward conversation with Taylor. Buck nodded to Taylor.

“Good to see you Taylor.” He said simply as he and Tommy started moving towards the other end of the aisle, Tommy grabbing a box of his preferred protein bars and a box of Jees's preferred granola bars for when they babysit in a few days. Taylor says her own good-byes moving in the opposite direction. It definitely could have gone worse, but he also hopes he doesn't run into his ex again for a long while.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

When Valentine Low broke the news of M bullying the Palace staffs, she immediately barked back saying this is a smear campaign against her. Now the Hollywood Reporter asked for their comments before they release their article and she had no comments on it.

So she's only brave enough to demean and thrash the UK staffs? Doesn't dare to say anything against their American staffs huh? Why does she do that RTA?

She can pass off bullying the Brits as xenophobia (they hate her because she’s a foreigner) and cultural differences. Remember, Meghan’s whole clapback to the British bullying allegations is that she’s a go-getter American and that work ethic contrasts with British work culture*. She can get away with that in the UK because she’s hedging her bets that the majority of people have never worked with Americans or know Americans personally and thus think she’s telling the truth.

*But even that’s not a solid defense for her. I’m reminded of a story - it’s either from Low or Bower, but maybe Spare? - where Meghan strolled into the KP offices late in the morning and announced that she brought bagels for breakfast. No one reacted and the staff felt it was actually tone-deaf of her to stroll in at 11 announcing breakfast when they’d been working for a few hours already. So right away, Meghan’s claims that she’s a go-getter American boss are debunked because no one who calls herself a go-getter is delaying her arrival to the office by 5-6 hours so she can do yoga and talk to her friends back home in California - as claimed in Finding Freedom.

She can’t do that here because we’ll call it out for the bullshit it is, because we all know better and we know the difference between the go-getter American boss babe Meghan wants us to think she is and the toxic narcissist boss dick she actually is. Meghan wants us to think she’s Miranda Priestly with the charm of Leslie Knope but she’s really just Mr. Burns dressed up as Jan Levinson.

For the record, American work ethic actually comes from the Puritans: it’s working hard all day every day to pull yourself up by the bootstraps but when the workday ends, the workday ends. It’s why we have shit maternity/parental leave and have practically no vacation time (compared to other countries) - because the Puritans sucked the fun out of everything and then when the class divide happened during the Industrial Revolution, the rich got richer, the poor got poorer, and everyone developed the mindset of “well, it was like that for me and I persevered so why should I make it better for you?” (Which, by the way, is 1-the main debate today over welfare programs and 2-why the ‘rags to riches’/Cinderella story works so well here, for any non-Americans here.)

Well, that was a very-so-far-off-the-road-we-can’t-see-it-anymore tangent.

Anyway. Getting back to the point. Which is that all the excuses Meghan gave to justify, or blame others for, her behavior in the UK doesn’t work here. She knows it and she’s stuck. That’s why she isn’t talking. Her whole game is over when the Americans start talking because while we don’t always get along, one of the very few things that all Americans agree on is bad bosses suck and rude celebrities that bully everyone are the worst.

Now, where’s my Swingline red stapler? And why couldn’t Dolly sing 10-3?

[fascinorous-argonaut]

I am still full of the love you want

Hello, everybody! It's my first time posting a fic here. Well, it's my first time here on Tumblr at all, so please, be kind. English is also *not* my first language. Grammaly helps but don't do magic. Enjoy. ~ Daredevil.

Once again, there he was—her husband—lying on the couch at 3AM with a book in his hands. *Again*.

Clarice understood. He had only just returned from prison, wrongfully convicted of a crime he didn’t commit.

It had devastated her, but she managed to pull through. She had stayed by his side, just like they had both promised three years ago when they got married.

When the news came that he was being released, that his team had found the real culprit, Clarice cried with joy. *Her Spencer* was finally free, and that meant he was coming home—back to *her*.

But the man standing before her now wasn’t the same *husband* she remembered. He barely spoke to her, and ever since he came back from prison, he had been sleeping on the couch. It had been nearly two months.

*She understood*. He was angry, sad, and likely traumatized by whatever he had gone through while locked away.

But she missed him in every way imaginable. She missed his random conversations, his laughter, and *God*, even his touch. She missed *him*, and the fact that he was physically there but emotionally distant was breaking her heart.

All she wanted was to be there for him, but every time she tried, he shut her out.

And there she was again, standing there with her arms crossed, an almost pleading look in her eyes as she watched him.

"It’s 3AM… can’t you sleep?" she asked softly, careful not to step too close to him or the couch. She didn’t want to upset him.

Spencer glanced up from his book, his expression blank. "No, I’m sleeping. Can’t you tell?" he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Clarice lifted her hands slowly, showing her palms to him as a sign of peace while taking a step back. "I’m sorry, honey," she whispered, looking down at the floor before glancing back at Spencer. "I didn’t mean to disturb you."

Spencer sighed heavily. He closed the book he was reading and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. The only light in the room came from a lamp next to the couch. He ran his hands through his hair, visibly frustrated.

"No, you’re not disturbing me," he mumbled quietly, pausing for a moment. "I just... I just need some time, I guess."

His tone wasn’t as sharp or harsh as it had been on other occasions.

"Yes, I... I get it," she continued in a whisper, as if afraid that raising her voice above a whisper would stir up a storm.

Spencer glanced at her. She was walking on eggshells around him. He could see it in the way she spoke, the way she stood with her hands raised, palms forward, and the way she took slow steps backward.

He felt like a wounded animal, and she was approaching him carefully, trying not to scare him away or trigger his defenses.

"Hey... could you come here, please?" he said, motioning her toward him.

She lowered her palms and, step by step, quietly walked toward Spencer, watching his every movement. "Sure."

The reply was simple, but if there was one thing certain about the situation, it was that neither of them was sure of anything.

Spencer patted the spot on the couch next to him, gesturing for her to sit down.

"I'm not going to bite you," he said with a slight hint of humor in his voice—a rare occurrence these days.

He knew he hadn’t been the most welcoming or communicative partner since he had come home. To say he had been unpleasant would be an understatement.

Finally, she sat next to him, on the edge of the couch, keeping both hands in her lap.

Even though she maintained a calm facade, her heart was racing. Being this close to him, after everything that had happened, was unusual. It was so rare that she had no clue how she was supposed to behave around him. Saying they were strangers living under the same roof would be generous. They were worse than that. They were two people who knew each other deeply yet didn’t know one another at all.

He noticed her body language:

The stiffness in her shoulders, the way she kept her hands clasped in her lap, the tension in her expression. This didn’t feel like the easy-going relationship they had shared just a few months ago.

He missed that.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer looked at her, his gaze steady.

"You know you don’t have to act like a stranger with me, right?" he asked quietly, trying to dispel the tension between them.

"I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you anymore." She wanted to take the words back, but the truth was too heavy to swallow.

It was a brutal truth.

Spencer's heart sank a little at her words. The fact that she didn’t know how to act around him stung.

For a moment, he said nothing, just looking down at his hands, his expression unreadable.

But when he spoke, his voice was soft—almost vulnerable.

"You could start by treating me like your husband again."

"Treat me like your husband again." Those words felt like a hard slap to her face. Clarice could swear she felt her cheek burn from a touch that never came.

"What I know and what I feel are two entirely different things." She ran both hands through her short hair. "I know you're my husband. But I don't feel you anymore."

His breath caught in his chest.

Deep down, he knew he was responsible for that. He had shut her out, pushed her away, kept her at arm’s length. But hearing her say those words out loud made it all too real.

"I..." he started, but the words trailed off. He didn’t know what to say. He knew she was right. He wasn’t the same.

"I'm sorry," he muttered after a moment. "I know I’ve been distant. But prison changed me, I—"

"It's not your fault. It is not your fault," her tone was firm yet soft.

She wasn’t blind, of course. Clarice knew he was suffering. They both were. They were lost in a storm of unspoken feelings and painful memories.

"But it is," Spencer insisted, frustration creeping into his voice. "I'm not the same person I was before. And I’ve been taking it all out on you. This isn’t fair to you."

He paused, looking directly at her, his gaze intense.

"I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, but I can't keep pushing you away. I don’t want to be the reason we’re so distant."

"Please, for the last time. It’s not your fault. It’s not as if you could avoid the changes. It would be strange if you hadn’t changed at all. You went through hell and back, and I—" the pain in her throat reminded Clarice of the tears she was holding back. "This isn’t fair to us, honey."

Spencer felt a pang in his chest as her voice cracked. He saw the pain in her eyes, the tears she was trying to hold back, and it killed him.

"I... we," he corrected himself. "We went through hell. Both of us. And I’ve been too wrapped up in my own pain and anger to see how much you’ve been hurting too."

He reached out and gently took her hand in his.

"And I’m so sorry for it. I’m sorry for shutting you out. I’m so sorry, baby."

The sudden touch surprised her, but in a more positive way than she expected. Her eyes met his, oh, those beloved brown eyes.

But there was more than just his usual tired demeanor. Finally, she started noticing the environment around them. The book Spencer had left on the coffee table was marked about halfway through. By now, he should have finished it. Knowing how fast he could read, an unfinished book could only mean one thing.

"When did your migraines come back?" she asked softly.

Spencer froze. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it from her for long, but dammit, that woman was perceptive.

He sighed heavily, letting go of her hand and rubbing his temples as a mild headache began to emerge.

"Two weeks ago," he admitted. "They've been pretty bad, but I didn’t want to worry you."

He grimaced, his expression a mixture of pain and exhaustion.

"Are you taking any medication?" Her tone was calm but serious.

His history with Dilaudid was no secret to her. And after the incidents in prison, he had to get clean all over again, which only made him even more cautious about any kind of medication.

The result? Spencer didn’t take anything—not even vitamins.

"No," he said with a sigh, still massaging his temple. "I’m not taking anything. I don’t want to risk... you know."

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. They both knew his history with addiction. Now, he had a strong aversion to any medication because of it.

"I've just been trying to manage them the best I can," he continued. "Taking it easy, avoiding too much stress, that kind of thing. But it’s been a rough two weeks."

"Let me help you, Spencer," she whispered, still looking deeply into his eyes.

Spencer met her gaze, a mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability in his eyes.

He was so used to handling those migraines on his own, but God, he missed having her by his side.

Her presence, her touch, her soothing words... she had always been his comfort during his hardest days.

He nodded slowly before speaking.

"I need your help," he admitted quietly. "I can’t keep doing this alone."

Clarice gently lifted the hand he was holding to her lips.

"You’re not alone, Spencer. You never are."

His heart ached at her touch and her words.

He knew he wasn’t truly alone, but these past two months had made him feel like he was.

He was so glad he had been wrong.

He looked at her with a mix of sadness and gratitude, his voice hoarse. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

He squeezed her hand gently, adding, "I’ve missed you so much."

"I miss you too, Spencer. So much."

Clarice let go of his hand gently. "I’ll be right back," she muttered before standing up and disappearing toward the kitchen.

Spencer watched her go, a mix of curiosity and anticipation in his eyes. He wondered what she had in mind.

He remained seated on the couch, still rubbing his temple in a futile attempt to soothe the building headache. He waited patiently, taking deep breaths and trying to ignore the pain throbbing through his skull.

She came back moments later with a large bowl of hot water and a towel draped over her right shoulder.

"Careful," she warned as she placed it down next to his feet.

Spencer's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the bowl and towel. He knew what she was about to do, and a rush of emotions coursed through him. His headache seemed to intensify for a moment, pressure building behind his eyes, but he stayed still, watching her closely. He leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath.

"You don’t have to do this," he said quietly. "It’s not your problem."

"You," she said, her tone firm yet with a hint of playfulness, "married a neurologist, Dr. Spencer Reid, and truly expected me to just sit here while my husband, who won’t even take an aspirin, suffers through a migraine? Tell me."

She had a point.

Spencer chuckled softly, despite the pain. He knew there was no arguing with her once she was in this determined mode. He opened his eyes and looked at her, a mixture of affection and resignation in his gaze.

"You’ve always been too stubborn for your own good," he said, his voice full of warmth. Then, in a softer tone, he added, "And I don’t deserve you."

After placing the bowl by his feet, she gently took each one in her hands and submerged them in the warm water, massaging them with skilled touches.

"You deserve the world," Clarice whispered, lifting her head and looking up at him.

The warm water, combined with her expert touch, sent waves of relief through his body, and a small sigh escaped his lips.

He looked down at her, his expression a mix of pain and pleasure. At her words, a small smile crept onto his face, his heart swelling with gratitude. But after a moment, his expression grew somber again, and he shook his head slightly.

"I don't deserve you," he repeated, his voice thick with emotion.

"You deserve the world," she softly echoed.

Spencer could almost feel the love in her words wrapping around him like a warm, comforting blanket. It was exactly what he needed. He closed his eyes, his breath catching as the headache began to ease, little by little.

For a moment, he remained silent, savoring the feeling of her touch and the closeness they hadn’t shared in so long.

When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

"You are my world."

Clarice felt her heart warm at his affectionate declaration. It had been so long since he had said something like that.

Too long since they had said anything like that to each other.

In his words, she recognized someone she hadn’t felt in a long time: her husband.

The headache continued to ease as she massaged his feet, her touch like a soothing balm to his aching muscles and mind. For the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of peace and contentment in her presence.

He watched her in silence, taking in her every feature, her every movement. He had missed this closeness. He had missed her so damn much.

He reached out a hand and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I’ve missed this... I’ve missed you," he whispered.

She closed her eyes and nodded slowly. "I miss you too, honey," she whispered, as if speaking too loudly might make him vanish into thin air.

The sound of her voice, soft and sweet like honey, only made him want her more. His heart ached with the need to pull her closer, to feel her body against his, to kiss her, to hold her.

"Come here," he said, his voice gruff and hoarse. He patted his lap, his eyes dark with longing. "Please."

He needed her closer, needed to feel her, touch her.

Clarice left his feet in the bowl and slowly stood, drying her hands with the towel. Then, slowly, she sat in his lap, wrapping her arms gently around his neck and resting her chin on the top of his head.

As she settled into his lap, Spencer felt a wave of relief and contentment wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in deeply, taking in the scent of her skin and hair. A wave of emotions—sadness, relief, love, desire—washed over him, all intertwined and overpowering.

He held her tightly, as if afraid she might disappear, and he whispered against her skin, "I need you... so much. I love you so much."

She tightened the hug. "I love you, Spencer. So much. I'm not going anywhere."

Those words, coming from her lips, settled something deep within him. She wasn’t going anywhere. She was there, in his arms, where she belonged.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. His eyes, filled with a mix of sadness and love, met hers.

"Promise me," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Promise me, you'll never leave me."

"I promise you. I'm not leaving you," Clarice replied in the same tone.

Spencer felt a wave of relief wash over him at her promise. He squeezed her tightly, his eyes closing as he buried his face back in her neck. He inhaled deeply, savoring her scent and the feeling of her body against his, trying to memorize every detail, to imprint this moment in his mind forever.

He whispered against her skin, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"I don't deserve you."

"You deserve the world," she whispered, closing her eyes as his warm breath brushed her neck.

She let out a soft gasp at his kisses—familiar, yet somehow new.

"Spencer..." Her whisper was a call. A call for everything they had left behind, for all the future would bring, for the love she used to know, for the man he had become, but above all, for her husband. Her Spencer.

Her gasp, a mix of pleasure and recognition, sent a jolt through his entire body. She was feeling the same thing he was.

His hands continued to explore her skin, desperate to relearn every curve and contour he had missed. He pressed his lips to her collarbone, his voice a rough whisper against her flesh.

"I've missed you," he repeated, his voice thick with emotion. "I've missed holding you, touching you, feeling you... I've missed us."

"Spencer," she whispered, lowering her lips to his ear, "Are you done sleeping on the couch?"

He chuckled lightly, both at her words and the feeling of her warm breath against his ear. He pulled back slightly to look at her, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Are you trying to invite me to our bed, honey?" he asked, his voice low and sultry, his thumbs tracing small circles on her hips.

"I’m summoning you," she whispered before pressing her lips to his forehead.

Her words, her touch, her invitation sent a shiver down his spine. He was powerless to resist her, not that he ever had before.

His hands moved to her hips, pulling her even closer, as he nuzzled his face into her neck. He pressed a kiss to the soft skin above her collarbone, his voice a low rumble.

He hummed at her words, his heart swelling with love and desire.

"And it worked. I yield completely to your beck and call" he said, his voice dripping with affection and an edge of humor.

He tilted his head, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss, his hand coming up to cup her face, his thumb tracing her jawline.

"Take me to bed, love" he whispered against her lips.

Dear @whoisspence , I hope this is what you were looking for. ~ Daredevil

[flippinpancakes64]

Omg hi I love your writing and I wanted to request a jasper x autistic reader where reader gose on like really long rants about stuff their interested in like video games or something jasper doesn't know jack shit about. I feel like he would get along grate with someone like that where he could just sit comfortably and just listen to them talk for hours on end.

Jasper with an Autistic! Reader

Shoutout to my roommate who has autism and helped me make this 👍

College has been a lot, sorry for not posting in a while, hopefully some Jasper fluff can make up for it

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

He loves it

It’s perfect for him

He’s not a big talker, so having you do all of it for him is perfect

And it doesn’t matter what you’re talking about

He is more than happy to just sit and listen

Planes? Cool, he’s always wanted to learn more about them

Some video game he’s never heard about? Chill, he’s down to listen

And he will never tell you to stop

If you want to yap, he’ll let you yap

I mean, he doesn’t need to sleep, eat, or use the bathroom

So he’ll never need to leave

If you have a tendency to talk with your hands (shoutout my roommate) he thinks it’s so funny

Like just watching you gesture wildly about something is so funny to him

The only time he would ever (kindly) tell you to back off just a hair is when you’re eating

Like, you’re in the cafeteria

Yapping, as one does

But you keep putting down your fork to gesture and keep talking

He will just hold a hand up and urge you to eat first, talk later

He’s so patient though

If anyone ever makes fun of you for how much you talk, he is your first defense

He hasnt killed anyone over it

But he’s also not opposed to

All in all this is the perfect setup for him

You mean to say he just gets to sit there and watch the person he loves ramble about something they love and he doesn’t have to do anything?

Score

And the best part is that he remembers it all

Every character name, weird little fact, all of the dates, everything

Perfect vampire memory

[angelliicc]

promise

“i’m your shining light

even in the darkness.”

masterlist

a/n HI BESTIESSS. so i got back into editing and it ate down literally. anyways there was no hw or practice so enjoy this thats been hiding in my drafts

warnings not proofread

| as practice ended, and your teammates huddled in a circle, you ran to the bathroom as it finished. tears started flowing down your face. you hated off days. you always compared yourself to other players, saying “why can’t i be like them? am i not good enough? what do i need to do to be better?” it was an endless cycle, especially as an athlete that started your sport late. that meant you had to work 100 times harder than everyone else.

you sobbed and sobbed in the bathroom, the same questions racing through your mind. “why am i even trying? i should just give up.” you texted ellie, telling her about practice and how you played.

r: “i hate this im so tired and exhausted.”

e: “baby whats wrong? talk to me”

r: “i had an off day and i can’t stop crying.”

e: “wait for me at the gym, ill be there in 10 minutes.”

those 10 minutes felt like an eternity. you kept sobbing and sobbing, letting your emotions pour out. if your emotions weren’t shown on the court, you’d bottle them up and explode later. you looked in the mirror, then down into the sink as you saw the tears exit your eyes. you tried to pull yourself together, making sure no one would walk through the door, but you emotionally couldn’t. next think you know, you hear the door open and freeze.

it was ellie. you ran into her arms, sobbing. “shhh.. its okay. its okay.” she said softly into your ear, then resting her chin on your head. “you wanna stay here or go to my car?” she asked you.

“lets go to the car.” you said. “i don’t want anyone to see me upset.”

“alright.” she grabbed a paper towel then patted it on your face, drying your cheeks. “go get your bag and your shoes, tell me what happened in the car, kay?” you nodded in agreement.

you grabbed your gym bag and basketball shoes while ellie walked next to you the whole time. you put your stuff in the back, then opened the door to the passengers seat. you sat down and close the door. you looked into ellies eyes, looking like you want to sob again.

“whats wrong my love?” she asked.

“i played terrible today. i hate off days. im tired of comparing myself. i dont think ill ever play at the college level. i should just give up. im not good enough and i never will be. defense was sloppy, handles were loose, didn’t make any shots or catch any rebounds.” you said. you started to tear up.

“you need to stop thinking this way. you need to realized that you are good enough. you just don’t realize your own worth because of the people you’re surrounded by. you can do it baby. you worked so hard to be here today.” she told you, cupping your face. “everything will work out, don’t cry. yea today may have been off for you? so what? just reset for next practice.” ellie wiped a tear from your cheek.

“but im just not confident anymore.” you said in a shaky voice, tears all over your face.

“let me ask you this, do you still find love for basketball?” she asked.

“well, yes.” you replied, sniffing.

“then don’t give up. if the love is still there, its gonna be okay. but when it runs out, it’s time to move on, okay?” she said, looking at you.

“i love you, so much. and you are so good at basketball. i know you’ll make it far.” she told you as she kissed your face. “lets get you home baby.”

“even when only my light is left

i promise you, i promise you

always together, be your light.”

[feyhunter78]

I’m sorry I never ask for writing requests but your Elrond fics have stolen my heart. I was wondering if you could write about him and a reader who had been through some trials (bad parents preferably but whatever you’d like is good) and he talks about how brave she is? Like how he loves her because of it? And possibly some sweet smut if you could? If not that’s all good, I love love your writings!

So my requests areeee closed, but I do have a soft spot for Elrond and comforting people, so I thought I'd make an exception, there is no smut though I didn't feel like it would flow naturally

Courage and Comfort

It is strange the bonds that bind, the joys, and sorrows that collectively inhabit and pass down a family line, tainting one, honoring the other. An endless cycle of shared traits and habits, a history that one cannot blot out no matter how hard they endeavor to, and Valar knows you have endeavored for years upon years to cleanse yourself, to rewrite the past. But you can no more do that than the sun can refuse to rise in the morn.

Though when you hear news that your parents were in Lindon, to visit your sister, you feel as if the sun has refused to rise, darkness overwhelming you, choking you. The news is delivered by a young elf, who looks appropriately concerned when the scrolls you are holding clatter to the ground, stooping low to retrieve them for you. You take them gratefully and dismiss him, your feet taking you away from your previously chosen path, and back to your shared chambers with Elrond.

But fate did not favor you, and you passed by your parents in the gardens. You kept your head held high as you made brief conversation with them, moving about as if it had not taken all your strength, until you were blessedly at the door to your chambers, scrolls clutched tightly to your chest.

Elrond, your sweet husband who no doubt will be buried in his work with the High King, you do not wish to bother him with your fear, your sorrow. He has spent so very long comforting you, the last time your parents had deigned to visit Lindon. Your vision blurs and you wipe your eyes, angry. You will not cry because of them; they did not deserve your tears. And yet when you cross the threshold, depositing the scrolls on your desk, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and cannot stop them from flowing. How in such a short span of time have they wrecked you? They barely spoke a few words to you, and it has affected you so greatly.

Sinking down into a nearby chair, you bury your face in your hands, breathing slowly as you attempt to calm yourself. Attempt to push your fear and grief far from your body, to let it evaporate into the air and disperse, no longer plaguing you. After a while it works, a lightness replacing the heavy weight on your chest, the sunlight returning, the birds singing, and Elrond is there seated in the chair across from yours. You startle, having not heard him come in, your cheeks heating as embarrassment flushes through you.

“My love, apologies, I did not realize you had returned.” You say, giving him a weak smile.

Elrond shakes his head, reaching forward and taking your hands in his. They are warm, gentle, calloused more now that he has returned to training with his sword. “The messenger came and found me; he was concerned for your wellbeing.”

You give a soft, half-convincing laugh. “What a sweet boy, he simply surprised me, but it was very kind of him to be concerned.”

Elrond’s thumbs smooth over the backs of your hands, his oakwood eyes focused entirely on you, pulling you in, paging through your defense like they are a children’s book. You have never been able to hide your true feelings from him. “It brings me no joy to hear your parents are visiting, even if it is not to see you.”

It is an opening for you to speak your mind without judgement, a way to ease any guilt you may have for expressing reluctance, or anger for he has done it first. It warms your heart, how he cares for you, how he strives to make expressing your more difficult feelings and emotions easier.

“I ran into them, on my way here, I know it would bring them great pleasure if I hid while away for the rest of their visit, but I cannot—will not let them win. I have done well for myself, risen above their contempt, this is my home, I should not have to hide.”

“No, you should not.” He affirms easily, his expression steady but sorrowful. 

“I know I should not.” You look down at your joined hands, swallowing hard. “But why do I feel so afraid of the very idea?”

“Because you have never done it before.” He says simply, his voice calm, soothing the fluttering of fear in your chest.

You cannot meet his gaze. “Perhaps I am not courageous enough.”

“You are. Courage is not the absence of fear, but the act of looking past it, persevering even when you are afraid.” He reminds you, releasing one of your hands to gently tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting his. “You are very brave, my starlight, you proved it today. You did not run, you faced them head on.”

“I had no choice.” You deflect, though his words pull your heart further into the light.

“That does not negate the fact that you stood your ground, you could have run.” There is a smile tugging at his lips, one that makes you wish to smile as well.

You give a slight shrug, looking away. “I guess you are not wrong.”

Elrond chuckles and brushes his thumb across the center of your lips. “I am never wrong when it comes to the bravery of my starlight.”

His touch makes you shiver, all fear, and sorrow banished, replace by a warm, glowing feeling. “Oh?”

He nods and sweeps a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Your courage is one of the many things I love so dearly about you.”

“Is that so?” You ask, your head tilting up instinctively seeking out his lips.

“Yes, your courage and kindness, your beauty, your intelligence, it all ensnared me for the moment we met.” He says, his lips brushing against yours with each word.

Your heart skips a beat, even though you have heard these words hundreds of times, they still affect you all the same.

You loop your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap, his lips meeting yours with slow languid movements, soft and sweet, he tastes of sunlight, banishing any lingering darkness from your mind. Your body and mind align, tuning your senses to Elrond, losing yourself in his very existence. The scent of him, the taste, the feel of his hair, his hands, his lips against yours. You can certainly continue to be brave if this is your reward.

TROP tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority, @jesticace, @emmyspov, @elrondswifey, @victoria-styles, @90angiex, @lucypaulette

[greenerteacups]

Hello GT, I absolutely love Lionheart!

I published my first fic and have been dealing with some criticism; it’s not anythjng super hateful, but it’s not anything meant to make me improve either. I’ve been feeling sort of down because of it. My question is: have you ever dealt with hate or criticism before? What is your attitude towards it?

I find your work and answers on here super insightful and inspiring! I hope you have a nice day ❤️

Fuck em. Like, seriously, just fuck em. There's a time and place for writers to take critique and be strict with themselves; it's necessary for any artist to grow. That place is with a chosen group of creatives whose work you admire and whose judgment you trust. A rando on the Internet, while they may in fact be the next Marcel Proust, probably isn't. And I was raised to believe that while it's appropriate and kind to pay compliments to strangers when they're performing — just as you'd smile at a busker on the sidewalk, and or compliment a chalk artist — it's not appropriate to criticize them when what they do isn't to your tastes. They're providing you with their art for free. No one forced you to read it; no one forced you to listen. If you don't like it, it costs $0 to shut the fuck up.

Also — that thing I said about artists taking critique? That assumes that you're doing this out of a desire to improve your writing, which, while noble, is not actually a thing you need to do if you're a hobby writer. I like trying to improve; it makes me feel good. But at the end of the day, I do this for fun. I do this because in my real job, I am ruthless and self-critical and try really fucking hard to do well, and you need parts of your life that Aren't Like that. You need parts of your life where you're not worrying about whether you're Doing It Right. And living without that anxiety of critique is, paradoxically, the only way you'll find the artistic courage to take risks and develop new skills. Everyone is a little bit rough around the edges to begin with. (Not saying you're a beginner — you merely said "publish," and I certainly wrote a lot of things before I started publishing! But every artist is always trying to develop new skills and techniques; in the grand scope of things, we're all beginners.) Giving someone blunt critique when they're in the beginning phases of their journey as an artist is about as helpful as screaming at your six-year-old kid because he can't swim the butterfly.

And the thing is, these people will bluster and say "well, I'm just being honest, I'm just trying to be helpful," but like: mmmmmmno, you're not! You're not. And it's disingenuous to say so. Because if you were actually trying to be helpful, you would introduce yourself, offer your skills as an editor/beta reader, and start building the relationship of trust that grounds any meaningful co-creative partnership. People do not just accept random critique that comes flying at them from the blue nowhere. And issuing it in that form is the best way to make them hostile, defensive, and unreceptive to it. Delivering harsh feedback without a context of care and support is almost sure to fail as a method of actually changing behavior, and either (1) you know that, and are doing it anyway — presumably because you want people to know how Terribly Clever and Better At Writing you are, or (2) you sincerely have never thought about the effect that context and word choice have on how other people receive your meaning.

Which tells me you are the last fucking person on the planet I want writing advice from.

[pigeon-behavior]

There's a very enjoyable change you can observe over time in your breeding birds.

In my experience, parents are EXTREMELY protective of their first clutch. I know not all pairs are like this, but mine have been. Newt was so protective of his first babies that in his quest to bite me he bit his newborn kid instead - drew blood and everything. I had to run inside for the kwik stop and terramycin.

He came at me with everything he had those first few checks. He was VERY excited about having babies and he was NOT going to let me take them!

Fast forward a few clutches... Newt has done himself some simple observing. And he's noticed that I have not been eating his kids for afternoon snacks.

In fact, he's noticed I come in and offer family meal time in his next box with some of his very favorite food on earth. He doesn't even mind that it's in my hand - it's not like he hasn't eaten from my hand before!

And very quickly he has gone from suspicious and defensive to casual and accepting. I check under him to see his new babies, holding my hand in a position that would prevent him from accidentally biting his own kid, but I don't have to anymore. He's not thrilled, but he's willing to let me look. He knows I give them back.

He also has seen me performing what should be parental duties with his children. I don't know if that's a thought that fully connects in his head, but with the two pairs I bred longer it almost seemed like they had some acceptance of me taking care of their kids.

And, anecdotally, my other breeder friends tell me about how their most established birds sometimes seem like they are relieved when the kids are collected for socialization time. Getting off the nest as the people enter the loft with an air of 'thank god, the babysitter is here.'

It's really hard to say if that's how they view us after a while. But, at the very least, you can see the trust they have with you really grow. I think it is partially desensitization, but I also think it is just simple learning. Instinct says something taking Baby is Dangerous, so panic. But then Baby keeps coming back unharmed! So why stay upset?

Domestic animals are so cool, man. What do you mean that animal is set up to just chillax? Thas crazy....

If you enjoy my posts, consider tipping me on ko-fi!

[tkachuktkaching]

Matthew Tkachuk: Memories of Johnny Gaudreau ‘Will Go On Forever’

Tkachuk spoke Wednesday about the death of his longtime friend and former teammate, calling Gaudreau "the most offensively talented player I've ever seen." Gaudreau and his brother, Matthew, were killed on Aug. 29 when police said they were struck by a suspected drunken driver while they were riding bicycles on a rural road in New Jersey.

"It was such an honor to play with him," Tkachuk said at Florida's media day, the first formal event of the new season for the Panthers as they prepare to open their defense of the Stanley Cup.

"And you guys all saw what he did on the ice. I was the lucky one out of everybody in this room to have a great relationship with him off. So those are the memories I will take. But it's been terrible. It really has."

Tkachuk was one of many in the hockey world who attended the services for the Gaudreau brothers earlier this month. He said he constantly has been thinking about Johnny Gaudreau's wife, Meredith, their children who lost their father and the parents who lost their sons.

"I think everybody has an amazing job of telling stories and keeping him present, because that's exactly what he would want is for us to smile about him and tell the fun stories about what a great player and teammate he was -- and a better guy," Tkachuk said. "My memory of him will go on forever."

“Of all the great things that happened this summer,’’ Tkachuk said, “it’s almost overshadowed by what has happened over the past couple of weeks. It has been a terrible time. It really has. It is the saddest thing I have ever seen or heard. I was able to go to the service which just breaks your heart.

“Johnny is one of my favorite teammates I ever played with. But he was more than a teammate to me: He’s such a great friend. It doesn’t matter if you knew them, or played against them, or even if you have a sibling, everyone can relate to this. It has been terrible. You’ll always carry something around, he will always be with me."

“He is the most offensively talented player I have ever seen. It was such an honor to play with him. You guys all saw what he did on the ice. I was the lucky one in this room who had a great relationship with him off of the ice. Those are the memories I will take, but it has been terrible. It really has been.”

“My memories will last forever, but I can’t stop thinking about his parents, about Meredith and the kids,’’ Tkachuk said.

“It was a very tough time at the wake and at the funeral; it has been a tough few weeks. But I think everyone has done an amazing job of telling stories and keeping him present because that is exactly what he would want, for us to smile about him and tell fun stories about what a great player and teammate he was. But he was a better guy. So, his memory will go on forever. My memories will go on forever.

“I feel like, last year, I was telling a Johnny story to someone every week. So, I am going to continue to do that.’’

[yourstrulysims]

Reintroducing Tia Baron 💋

We’ve definitely seen her in the background of the stories of my main characters but she is a main character as well. I just didn’t know what to do with her until a fellow simmer friend @tonimariesims helped me out.

So let’s meet Tia again. This is Tia Baron.

She’s a 28 year old lawyer who resides in Spice District, San Myshuno. Just like her best friend Hillary, Tia is a well known Criminal Defense Lawyer in San Myshuno.

Hillary & Tia

Tia has always been the socialite of the friend group. They never really know what she’s up to at any given moment. She lives for the glitz and glamour and the riiiiich 🤑

Being a lawyer has opened up many doors for Tia. Many doors of successful people she hob knobs with. Many people including, many successful men.😏😉

Tia and Tech Mogul Dirk Dreamer

Tia and Real Estate Agent Marvin Kincaid (not made by me!)

And these are just two men in the roster. Trust, there are more very high profiled men that this woman has dealings with 😏

I mean can you blame them?

Tia is frequently on Cupids Corner trying to find that rich man to spend it all on her! She makes enough on her own but it’s better when it’s someone else’s money you know 🤑

Dirk Dreamer gifted my girl a Versace bag just because 😏 teach us your ways Tia!

We will play around with Tia while playing with Hillary as their stories will run together and you’ll see how once we get started!

Again special thanks to @tonimariesims for the Inspo for Tia !!

Let’s explore dating and other fun entertaining things with this socialite!

Oh she knows she’s her too 💋