#of the process constantly. how do you know it does that. what happens if that goes wrong. where is the backup for this

[fairiesthrum]

Can I be 🧚‍♀️ anon if it's not taken pls!! And ok... what are your thoughts on cult leader Geto? 🫣🫣

🎀 — OFC U CAN BE FAIRY ANON AHAKSJAUSJ

and abt cult leader geto hmmmm (incoming yap session y’all)

ngl, i expect his wife to absolutely HATE his guts. like i’m talking melania trump core (i made a small post abt this before).

i can just imagine some young woman from a powerful clan being forced to marry some weirdo obsessed with monkeys (cuz yes, you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking abt when he said monkeys and thought he was insane in the beginning. well... you still think he’s crazy).

i would describe suguru’s wife to be the “nonchalant” kind, very elegant, just cares abt that bag and living a good life. you have no interest in sexual relations with him at first (though he was super hot and that’s what pushed you to agree to the marriage in the first place), and neither does he (the both of you actually sleep in separate rooms). suguru only married you to gain support and followers. so all you had to do was make appearances beside him, sit pretty, act like everything was fine, and spend the rest of your life not having to lift a finger whilst gawking at your husband’s dashing looks. easy enough, right?

wrong. you actually end up learning he’s a cult leader through these strange meetings (yeah, your parents totally forgot to fill you in abt that part).

it sets you off (like fr mom and dad? a cult leader??) and you become irritated with him and everything he does more and more as the days pass. you start acting like an entirely different person, smacking his hand away when he tries to hold it in public, opting to clutch onto your designer purse instead. and geto just stands there with a close-eyed smile, laughing it off.

you couldn’t even stand to look at him. you married a psycho obsessed with killing non-sorcerers. but what could you do? your parents practically sold you to him! so the smartest thing you could think of in terms of fighting back was to not listen to a word he says. and it gets really awkward for the people around you both when you’re constantly acting like a bitch and geto sits there with a tight smile, everyone else in the room sharing concerned and nervous glances.

nowadays, all you ever really did was grovel abt your terrible life while wearing your designer clothes and wiping your tears with the designer handkerchief that you pull out of your designer handbag #richpplproblems

but suguru brushes off your behavior all the time, assuming you were having trouble adjusting even though it’s been two months and you used to act pretty normal in the beginning of your marriage. maybe it was a lot to process? so, he doesn’t do anything abt your attitude… until you really embarrass him.

it ends up with him dragging you into his bedroom, away from prying eyes, seething and red-faced. it was completely unlike your usually calm and collected husband, and it made you smug that you finally got a reaction out of him. and it pacified something inside of you, a part that was desperate for revenge due to being stuck in this god awful marriage.

geto, being the ever so observant person he was notices the change in your eyes, resulting in a back and forth between you two consisting of yelling and screaming. until, he finally slams his lips onto yours, shutting you up.

clothes are ripped off and then the next thing you know, both of you are fucking on your marriage bed for the first time, gasping out between moans abt how much you can’t stand each other.

the rest of that night was spent hate-fucking, then acting normal and back to snide remarks the next day. until it happens again… and again… and again.

only because both of you are scared to admit you enjoy the steamy sex and the fact you’ve started having feelings for each other since you’re both stubborn. so, the two of you just find an excuse to fuck all the time by getting on each other’s nerves.

anyways, that’s my take on cult leader geto ₓₓ

[todayisafridaynight]

would it be okay if u told me why u like aoki😭/gen😭😭😭😭BEEN TRYNA LIKE HIM FOR SO LONG I JUST CANTT but i love ur art so much so i still consume it otherwise lol

i liked tohru adachi in high school and tbh i think that alone is enough of an explanation for why i ended up liking aoki

[organchordsandlightning]

*looks into middle distance* i’ve been on permanent customer service voice for the past three days

[nataliedecorsair]

I wanted to give you some of Pticenoga's Borderlands AU backstory, how she was raised by Shade and before starting her shenanigans with Vaughn.

Plus a bonus comic about how she decided to set up a meeting for Vaughn and Shade, but didn't tell Vaughn who is supposed to be there x) Mostly because Vaughn has met Shade before in his macabre World of Curiosities museum and thought that Shade is too weird for him. Well, that's the kind of person that would raise a feral harpy siren, gotta deal with it!

When she was very young, nothing bothered her much as she was just a wild baby exploring the world x) And Shade was a good father figure to her. However, as she grew older, she realized that she doesn't really "fit in": yeah, Pandora is a crazy planet, but not every person there is crazy. There are plenty of "regular folk" like Shade or other people from their town - and many others. And she was frequently called a monster, a mutant and many other things by the regular kids and even adults. She was wild though, could bite them or fight with them in a pretty feral manner, and, even though she protected herself, it didn't help the situation much. She wasn't crazy enough (and too small) to fit in with the psychos or bandits, was "too human" for actual monsters living on Pandora, and for a long time she had no idea she was a Siren, as even for Sirens she looked too different. Only when she hit her teens, she was able to confirm that she is one, started using her powers, and in her human form she could see the full extension of the glowing pattern she had on her skin. She still, however, didn't know why she wasn't born "normal", and there were no older Sirens around.

At some point, she decided to become independent and live on her own. Her "wild" upbringing was helping that a lot, and she felt fine being away from people. She'd still visit Shade frequently, of course, and at some point she'd even met Zer0 and could hang out with him for some time. As Zer0 is a mystery himself, they had some common ground between them (though constantly listening to his haiku were exhausting xD). Sadly, Vault Hunters attract attention, not always positive, and that was the reason why she got spotted by a big bandit gang (could be the beginning of Vallory's gang, but before she took over). And local scientists like Tannis already declared that there may be some connection between Sirens and the Vaults. And they noticed that she's a Siren, but also pretty young (and dumb). After the first Vault on Pandora was opened, there was plenty of weird and valuable stuff around, but it wasn't so easy to get it when you're just regular bandits. And when Eridians, the aliens that are guarding the Vault, are everywhere. The Sirens like Lilith were too strong for them, and hiring a Vault Hunter is expensive, so they decided to wriggle into her favor and use her to gain access to the area. She didn't know she was dealing with bandits first, she naively thought it's a rare case of nice fellows just wanting to be friends and such, plus the Vault could have answers about her origin, and the new "friends" confirmed it.

At some point, she realized she was being used, and got into a fight with the bandits - and lost, as there were too many of them, and she had too little experience, and they knew about Shade. She got kidnapped and told that she'd do everything they told her to do, or they'd kill Shade, so she had to obey. She helped them to fight the way to the Vault and get some of the riches, and during the process she felt that she really does have a connection with Eridians - they boosted her powers and helped her to get free, and kill every presenting member of the gang. She was worried about Shade though, so she left immediately to find him before the remaining members found out what happened and could harm him. But she was too late - the water source in their town of Oasis was poisoned, and every single person there died. Except Shade though - he lasted longer, but dehydration made him insane, and he turned corpses into the stuffed dummies he could talk to (though she didn't have much of a problem with this part). As she was gone for at least several months, he didn't believe she's real, and she had to adapt to the new reality.

She never got back to the Vault after that as she felt it was a source of more trouble than anything good (in her view, the price was too much for a bunch of physical stuff).

That lasted for years, and became a bit easier as her powers, enhanced by the Eridians, wasn't only serving the destruction,  but could eventually "heal" some part of Shade's mind, so the moments of clarity became more frequent (she didn't know it's the reason, though). And you still need money, whether you like it or not, so, when Shade decided to use his World of Curiosities as a spot of illegal deals and smuggling, she didn't resist, but would watch over him in the shadows in case something goes wrong.

Eventually, she calmed down and just embraced herself. And, after some time, she met Vaughn, whose personal struggles she could sense right away, as she had to experience "being different" herself.

[writersdrug]

Bartender Simon, who cuts of a drunk costumer. The costumer is angry and begins insulting Simon, particularly his looks. It doesn't bother Simon but how does Waitress!Reader react?

Alas... the much-awaited ktih

Warnings: making out, groping, dry-humping

It was only seven pm, and Cole was already drunk. Simon knew this would happen - it usually does, at least every Friday night. He comes in, drinks for a solid two hours, until Simon finally has to cut him off and steer him in the direction of his apartment. The man at least lets him add twenty percent auto gratuity if he has to be sent home like that - and, more often than not, it's every week.

Today, however, is a different story.

Cole had come in at four, right when the pub opened. He gave you his usual, tight-lipped smile, making his way to the seat he took every Friday evening. Simon was already pouring his beer by the time he removed his coat. The conversation continues (mostly one-sided on Cole's part), as does the night, and he never ceases to tip the beers back - rattling on about how much money he makes, only getting louder when a group of women walks by.

Around nine at night is when he began to get drunk enough that the numbers on his tab begin to blend together. "A'aight- 'nother one for good fortune." He smacks his empty glass against the bartop, making you jump slightly as you did your tips at the end of the.

"Not tonight." Simon says, hovering over the POS and punching buttons on the screen. "You got 'nuff for good fortune. You can pick it back up next week."

"Bahhh, c'mon - I'll pay double." Cole slurs, leaning over the bar.

"What's your wife's name?" Simon asks, turning back around and leaning against the liquor shelf.

"... Sharon."

"Ya not even married, Cole."

He laughs, eyes glassy as he smacks the bartop and wheezes. "Tha's good! Real good- ya got me. Can't keep a woman 'f I tried."

Simon doesn't comment. He slides Cole's receipt across the bar, before promptly turning back and grabbing a glass.

Cole sighs, crumpling the receipt in his fist. "Y' don't want business?"

"Don't want you gettin' lost findin' your Uber." Simon replies, polishing a glass.

"Y'know..." Cole leans back in his seat, very adamantly refusing to leave, "I know you're strugglin' t' bring in the money with... whatever ya got goin' on behind the mask."

Maybe when he was a lieutenant, constantly dealing with jabs and stabs towards his ego, it would have gotten to him. But Simon just huffs in annoyance. "This what you resort to when you can't get a beer?"

"Defensive much?" Cole bites back. "You could use the money to fix y'r fuckin' face. Should stop bein' such a cunt n' worryin' 'bout me like you're my mum."

"Hardly - your mom probably wishes she'd swallowed you instead."

Simon nearly drops the glass - it takes him a moment to realize that you had spoken, and another one to process just what exactly you had said. He turns around to find you, staring Cole down with the most disgusted, angry expression he's ever seen you display. He's speechless - mostly because he didn't know you had an arsenal of insults, ready to fire off like this.

Cole chuckles drunkenly, turning in his seat to face you from down the bar. "Don' like it when I insult y'r bank account, do ya?"

"Aren't you supposed to be dumpster diving or something?" You snap, getting up out of your seat - Simon's never seen such a look in your eyes, and he quickly steps out from behind the bar to jog over to you. He places a hand on your shoulder, but you don't back down.

"You realize who you're talkin' to, little girl?"

"Draco Malfoy if he'd gone into British Parliament."

"Oi-" Simon snaps, fingers digging into your shoulder - surprisingly, you swat his hand away. You're fuming at this overgrown cabbage, running his mouth like he actually means something to anyone in this pub.

Cole purses his lips; your insults are getting to him. "You gonna do somethin' with this chick?" he asks Simon - who nearly blows a cap, but you beat him to it.

"Y'know, maybe you should spend your money on fixing those fucking teeth - because I see they're still social distancing - instead of wasting our time here, you grey, fucking sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake-"

"Hey- stairwell. Go." Simon gives you a gentle shove towards the stairs, and you throw your hands up and storm off. He stares after you, wide-eyed and tense, watching as you disappear behind the stairwell door. He's quickly growing hard, concerningly, after witnessing you fire off at Cole with a loaded gun full of wit and anger - it was quite possibly the most attractive thing he's seen you do.

Cole huffs, breaking Simon's focus. "Women - sticking their noses where they don't belong." he looks at him, expecting the bartender to agree.

Simon's holding back the urge to drive his fist into the man's skull. He grabs Cole's jacket from the back of the chair and shoves it into his chest so hard he nearly falls from his seat. "If you're not gone in the next ten minutes, Soap 'n I will make you leave, you understand?" he doesn't even wait for a reply, turning on his heel and stalking towards the stairwell, boots thudding heavily against the ground.

He's got bigger priorities at the moment.

You're standing in the stairwell, chewing the edge of your sweater as you stare at the dustpan and broom. Simon can surely fight his own battles - he didn't seem irritated in the slightest by Cole, why did you step in? Simon isn't yours (unfortunately), you don't need to defend him. You don't have the right to defend him other than the fact that he's your coworker. Manager. And you were definitely doing it based on other, unspoken reasons. It was obvious. Is it obvious to him? Forget possibly losing your job, is he going to be mad that you lost your shit like that? That you put your foot where it doesn't belong? That-

The door to the stairwell swings open, and you stop your pacing. His eyes are lidded. Angry? You can't tell. He looks rather intimidating, tall and tense as the door swings shut behind him, mask bunched into his fist as he shoves it into his back pocket.

You think he's about to let you have it, to chew you out for your outburst. "Simon, I'm-"

His rough hands are around your face before you know it - right as you open your mouth to yelp in shock, he leans down and kisses you.

Your eyes force themselves shut. You don't have a chance to pull away, not with his hand cradling the back of your head. He won't let you; you don't want to. His breath fans across your face, fingers calloused yet gentle as they relax around you, and you sigh into his touch, tilting your head to let him get closer. Your arms rest against his shoulders, squeezing the muscle as you feel months of worry and anticipation melt away-

And then, as quickly as it had begun, Simon has the audacity to stop and pull his head back.

His eyes find yours, still cupping your face in his hands. He looks breathless - good. At least you know he's just as riled up as you are, now. There's a hint of pink on his cheeks, and a need for reassurance in his hazy stare. He needs to know he was right, despite the months of flirting and the little chase you've been leading him in; now that he's finally caught up, caught you in his grasp, he needs you to tell him you want this. Though he doesn't know how he'll survive if you don't.

"You ok?" He pants, brow creased with uncertainty.

You let out a noise of frustration - threading your fingers behind his neck, you pull him back down, sealing your lips against his once again.

He exhales through his nose in relief. His hands find your waist as you part your lips, letting him slip inside and explore your mouth. Your fingernails dig crescents into his skin - he lets out a rather needy-sounding groan, backing you up until you hit the wall. You whine; your tongue flicking across his lower lip sends a shiver down his spine, heat building and twisting and tangling in his gut until you break away for a moment, nipping your teeth into his lip.

His mind short-circuits; he grunts, all the blood in his head rushing south to his cock, where it's getting uncomfortably warm and tight. He grabs you underneath your ass and hoists you up, and you squeak, instinctively locking your legs around his hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he kisses you feverishly, desire brewing in your stomach as he presses you into the wall, tongues and teeth clashing, the both of you unable to satisfy the ever-growing blaze. It threatens to burn up the stairwell until there's nothing left but a sweaty, naked mess.

Simon breaks away to latch onto your neck, taking the thin flesh and rolling it between his teeth You bite back a whimper, carding your fingers through his hair; he bucks his hips in response, albeit involuntarily. You can sense the knot in your pelvis tightening, underwear growing slick as you feel the size of his erection with each thrust. Even through his clothes, you can tell it would be a challenge, but you've never been one to back down.

Fingers slide under his shirt, feeling the solid wall of muscle and fat beneath - his retracts a hand and drags it up your stomach, kneading and groping your tit through your shirt, silencing your moan with another searing, wet kiss. He's grinding into you now, hips rolling, cock twitching through his pants as you lock your ankles behind his back, and fuck he's ready to strip you bare right here and fuck you against the wall, ready to get back at you for teasing him for so long, ready to listen to your cries as you take each and every rung of his piercing-

He catches himself, lips moving away from yours to kiss along your chin, all the way up to your jaw. He sighs as he stills his hips, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he leans his weight into you. You feel him relaxing, wondering if he's worried about you again, but you so desperately want this to continue where it's heading.

"I'm alright, I'm alright-"

"I know..." he mumbles, his hand sliding back to your thigh and squeezing the flesh there, fingers barely slipping past the hem of your shorts. He wants to go further, to feel the hem of your panties snap against his fingers, but he forces back the urge.

"What's wrong?" you pant, craning your neck to the side to look at him.

"'M not..." he huffs, pulling his head back and gazing down at you. "Not fuckin' you in the stairwell, dove. 'S filthy back here."

Your face heats up even more - the fact that he had to hold himself back from disheveling you right now is an unspoken compliment. "Can we take it upstairs?"

He chuckles and gently sets you down, much to your disdain. "No. Got a bar to run." He says, preening at the way you pout at that. "And I'm takin' you out, first."

"Out?"

"Yea, for lunch."

"Wh- where?"

"You decide. Monday."

Monday - that's deep-clean day. "Don't we have to be here at noon?"

He chuckles. Always worrying about losing your job. "I'll make an exception. Won't fire ya for goin' on a date with me."

Date. God, you could scream. "But what if Price-"

"If that man ever threatens your position at this pub," Simon leans down, gently grabbing your chin between his fingers, "you come to me, n' I'll knock some sense into 'im. Sound good?"

You're too starstruck to register half of what he's said. Simon Riley's just kissed you. AND admitted to wanting to fuck you. Now, he's taking you on a date on Monday. Did you have any plans? Doesn't matter. If you do, they're cancelled.

"Uh huh..." you say, absentmindedly leaning into his touch.

Looking down at you: you, you... god, can he call you his? Is that too soon? The stars in your eyes while you're staring at him, the struggle within himself to avoid both adoration and getting hard(er)... He takes another deep breath, thumb running down the blossoming hickey on your neck.

"Right." he taps your cheek softly, then goes to tuck his shirt back in from where you'd torn it from the waistband. "Go ahead n' take a minute. Come to the bar 'fore you leave."

He grabs the handle to leave, hesitating only for a moment. Both of you seem to have the same idea, sharing a hive mind with each other. You quickly move forward and he leans down as you both kiss again, slower, trying to savor this one. Honey drips from your brain into your chest, every cell in your body screaming in relief, satisfaction, and pure joy...

He breaks away again, laying a kiss to the crown of your head. You sit down on the stairs as he walks back onto the pub floor. He's still hard, and it's plain as day - but he could care less right now. He's got you just as much as you've had him. There's a lightness in his shoulders, a voice in his head that you've finally plucked free and thrown into the abyss, only to be replaced by your own being.

You're still sitting on the stairs, massaging your tits through your shirt as you try to smooth your nipples out. Your mind is racing a million miles a minute. What should I wear? Will Price be upset? Should we try to hide this? Will anyone care? Should I wear perfume or just body spray? Is work going to be weird now? He's not going to treat me differently, is he?

You sigh, biting your lip and trudging up the stairs. Your fingers run over the hickey on your neck. I need to find a whisk.

[whateveriwant]

The 141 watching their partner give birth

Price

Is absolutely fascinated by the process

Constantly looking down there, slack jawed, telling you, "Honey, you've got to see this"

Makes you warn him waaaay too many times to not whip out his phone and start recording such an exposed view of between your legs

Does, however, receive your permission to take pictures/videos from a more "decent" angle (ones you can actually share with your friends and families, you know)

The picture he takes of you holding your child for the very first time? Yeah, say hello to his new lockscreen

Ghost

Looks down a few times but mostly keeps his focus up by your head

Gives oodles and oodles of soft praise telling you how good you're doing, how strong you are, how he knows you can do this

Has both hands on you throughout the delivery – one holding your thigh open, the other holding your hand for support

Is completely unfazed no matter how hard you squeeze him; doesn't so much as blink even as you almost break his fingers with your death grip

The only time he lets you go is to cut the umbilical cord (and then hold your child so so preciously in his massive hands)

Gaz

Doesn't have the stomach to look, but he does manage to cut the cord

Lots of petting your hair, applying cool cloths to your neck, whispering praise/encouragement in your ear

Reminds you to breathe when you forget to (and realizes he sometimes needs the reminder too)

Finds himself getting a little choked up seeing you in such pain, but has to hold himself together for both your sakes

Maintains his composure up until he hears your child's first cries, and then it's Niagara Falls streaming down his face, tons of wet kisses pressed to your sweaty temple

Soap

You'd think being surrounded by blood and guts on the regular would have prepared him for this moment, right?

Looks down once. Passes out immediately

Poor guy goes down like a sack of bricks and has to be dragged out of the way by a couple of nurses

Doesn't come to until after the birth is over, and is so incredibly apologetic/embarrassed/disappointed when he realizes what happened

But once he finally lays eyes on your child, he's lighting up like he just won the lottery and is smothering you both with all the love he has to offer

[lenaellsi]

One thing that really gets me about the opening with angel Crowley is that he's not just excited by how beautiful his stars are, or how fun the process of creation is, or how impressed he's made Aziraphale. He’s not in it for the glory or the aesthetics. He’s actually horrified by the idea that the universe will just be "fancy wallpaper" in the future, even though Aziraphale assures him that humans will "marvel" at his creations.

What Crowley loves about his stars is their potential. He is building, essentially, a nursery. Most of the universe's stars, he explains to Aziraphale, will come pre-aged--but his are just starting out! After they're given time to grow, who knows what could happen! Good or bad, black holes or new constellations—there are so many possible futures ahead of them, and Crowley can’t wait to see what happens.

And then Aziraphale tells him that he knows what will happen: those stars will never grow up. They will never shine or burn out or implode or become anything new. They’ll be destroyed before they get the chance.

"You can't kill kids."

“Whose side are you on?” “God’s, of course!” “Same God that wants me to whack the kids?”

"People die." "They do, don't they?"

“Great pustulant mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan!”

"Don't test them to destruction."

"It's always too late."

"Nothing lasts forever." "No, I don't suppose it does."

This fear has been chasing Crowley since before the beginning. It’s what caused his first doubts, put the first traces of gray in his wings. He’s been raging at the futility of watching beautiful, complex things be damned or destroyed for his entire existence, and that’s why he seems to the audience and to Aziraphale to be a mess of contradictions.

He loves to follow the trends of the times, but he clings to his classic car in an era of planned obsolescence for vehicles. He lives in an ultra-modern flat, but finds his greatest comfort in the unchanging security of aziraphale’s old shop. He hates the idea of killing children, but is willing to see a child die if it preserves the rest of the universe and foils the Great Plan. He “goes too fast,” but his most unique and notable power is that he’s learned to stop time.

Crowley hates predestination. He hates divine intervention and the removal of agency. Crowley, the architect of free will, is constantly torn between his love of change and choice and potential and his terror that everything will be destroyed by an unstoppable, incomprehensible higher power. That’s his driving conflict in the way that Aziraphale’s is learning to find his own path without following Heaven’s rules, and I am fascinated to see how it resolves.

[prettieinpink]

HABITS TO IMPLEMENT BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

DAILY AFFIRMATIONS

You can choose whatever time you’d like to say positive and affirmative statements to yourself. When saying affirmations, use the first person and present tense. E.g I am healthy, I take care of myself, and I am strong academically. 

Affirmations are so helpful because our brains struggle to tell the difference between imagination and reality. So, when we visualise ourselves doing something that's not actually happening, it stimulates the brain areas as if we were actually experiencing it.

So, repetitive affirmations will encourage your brain to treat it as fact. While this only works to an extent, it does help with self-sabotaging thought actions and thought patterns. 

EATING MINDFULLY

Eating mindfully is the practice of when consuming anything, you put your full focus on that meal. There are no devices that may distract you, you’re eating slowly and paying close attention to how different meals make your body feel. 

To eat mindfully, focus on the time it takes for you to finish your food. Is it enough time for your body to give signals about your meal? To chew thoroughly? Another thing is to turn off and eliminate any distractions. Such as being on any devices or multitasking. 

Eating too quickly means that your body may not have enough time to tell you that it's full. When you eat mindfully, it's easier for your body to register when it's full. Furthermore, it's easier to distinguish between true hunger and non-hunger triggers for eating. 

CREATIVE OUTLETS

For a lot of us, 2024 was a stressful year. We’re constantly hustling and not letting ourselves process what's happening in and around us. Having a creative outlet helps us to release and detach from those emotions. It allows us to experience that feeling, but leave it all behind in the end. 

Some examples are painting, clay artwork, creative writing, designing, sewing, crocheting and music. There’s a lot more you could do, but ultimately you have to do what's best for yourself. 

LEARNING SOMETHING NEW EVERYDAY

At least one thing each day: aim to learn something completely new to you. Other than the fact that you are learning something new, it allows for your curiosity to grow and expand outside of your typical education institution. With curiosity, comes with the skill of being able to explore complications and come up with solutions. 

There are many ways you can learn, but I think the best way is by coming up with your questions in an area you’re unfamiliar with and then looking for an answer to your question. 

My favourite way has to be watching video essays. Doesn’t always have to be social commentary, but anything that seems interesting enough for me. 

COMPLIEMENT-A-DAY

I love receiving compliments from strangers. It leaves the widest smile on my face and I swear I feel so much lighter like I’m floating around. However, I never think to give a compliment to someone else who I don’t know. So, whenever you see the cutest outfit or the perfect lip combo, make sure to say it!

For those who may be shy in those kinds of interactions, practice saying it in your head. You don’t have to say it out loud to them, but thinking positively of other people will reflect on how you think about yourself. 

That is it for this post, thank you for reading until the end ♥︎ Until next time, take care of yourself ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

[brucewaynehater101]

Android Tim Drake AU:

Drake Industries announced they had successfully created realistic-looking androids that passed the Turing Test (and harder versions of it). They were planning to release commercial models to the public within twenty years.

To go a step farther, the Drakes wanted to ensure no one was skeptical of the androids' abilities to pass as human. Thus, Janet and Jack Drake had a healthy "human" baby by the name of Timothy Jackson Drake. The only individuals aware of this are Tim, Janet, Jack, and a small handful of engineers bound with a fuck ton of NDAs. They planned to tell the public when Tim was eighteen.

While Janet and Jack Drake are aware of Tim's ability to mimic emotions, they do not believe him to be capable of actually feeling them. This leads to Tim's childhood being lonely and neglectful. He is a robot.

At first, Tim is incapable of consuming human foods or using his touch sense. They fix his touch sense by the time he is four (and thus Dick is his first hug), and the food by the time he is six. He is constantly undergoing repairs to allow him to mimic the growth pattern of a child. It's when he is nine that he finally gets pain sensors to discourage and alert him to damage.

Tim is, for all intents and purposes, legally a human. When Janet dies and Jack gets into a coma, Tim stops receiving "growth spurts." He remains the same size even after Jack wakes up from his coma.

When Tim becomes Robin, he does not disclose his status with Bruce, Dick, or anyone else. Given that his parents treat him like an object, a machine, and incapable of feelings, Tim doesn't want to be subjected to that by his heroes either.

Instead, he gaslights the hell out of the Bats, villains, and other heroes whenever he gets hit.

["Tim! You got flung into a building. You are getting a medical exam."

Tim narrows his eyes as his eyebrows raise in surprise. "Bruce.... what are you talking about?"

"I saw you get thrown into a building. You're not getting out of this."

Tim glances to the side and then back to his mentor. He carefully places a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "B... Maybe we should have Alfred check you over."

Bruce blinks in shock as his brows furrow. "What?"

Tim purses his lips and shakes his head in pity. "It's okay, B. We'll figure it out. Whatever is going on, we'll fix it."

Bruce is so confused and concerned he doesn't ask Tim to get a medical check and agrees to be checked over instead.]

Tim becomes an expert at repairing himself because he can't explain to the engineers (most of who were let go after Janet died) how he got damaged. He spends a lot of nights alone in his room turning off his pain sensors (which isn't an automatic process and is difficult to reach)in order to fix the mangled hand, the gaping gash, the crooked foot, etc.

Kon, and conversely YJ, are the first to find out about his status (darn x-ray vision and super hearing). This encourages Tim to create artificial sounds within himself to fool Superman when they first meet. This also forces Tim to wear a long-sleeved uniform and a hood to hide from x-ray vision.

Tim finds comradery with Red Tornado.

When Jack wakes up from his coma, he originally treats Tim as he did before: an object. Dana, though, changes this. Jack can't explain why he treats his "son" that way and slowly morphs into becoming a good father.

It starts as only occurring when Dana is in the room and ends with a very bitter and antagonistic Jack when she leaves. He is initially disturbed by how much Tim is "faking" emotions, particularly because Tim learned to conceal his emotions from his parents as a coping mechanism (not that Jack knows this).

As they start spending more and more time together, Jack begins accepting the idea that Tim is capable of emotions. He starts caring and loving the kid as his own.

Because of this, Jack becomes fearful for Tim. When he learns that Tim is Robin, he is both jealous of Bruce's relationship with Tim and absolutely terrified for his son (what happens if people find out that Tim is an android? How would they treat him? Tim told Jack the Waynes don't know about his status. What if Tim gets injured too badly during a mission and they find out?)

This is why Jack initially forbids Tim from being Robin. There is way too much at stake for Tim if he continues (even though, theoretically, Tim can't die. Jack can keep saves of Tim and import him into a new body if necessary. They both don't want to do this, however, because Tim's body is his. It would feel weird and wrong to put him in another one).

While Tim is prohibited from being Robin, Jack bankrupts his company in the process of getting Tim rights. He bribes the hell out of judges, law makers, etc. to subtly put I'm rights for androids. He wants Tim to have full access to his inheritance, to freedom, and to everything humans can do. He doesn't want Tim to be without it.

Tim doesn't understand why Drake Industries is going under and is pissed at Jack for preventing him from being Robin. Robin is everything to Tim. It allows him to be treated as human. It connects him to so many people.

It's only afterwards, when Tim is finally allowed to be Robin again (and Jack has ensured he did everything he could for now for Tim's rights), that Tim fully understands how much Jack loves and cares for him.

Then Jack dies.

Tim is able to hide the fact that he's an android up until a Red Helmet asshole breaks into the Tower. While YJ whisk him away before the Bats can find out, Jason knows. Jason found out.

[zhongrin]

zhongrin © 2024 ❥ do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or feed into ai.

tail of a dragon.

featuring... ❥ zhongli

involves... ❥ minors dni, gn!reader, dragon!li, fluff, crack, monsterfucking(?), cannibalism innuendos(??), rambles/headcanon -> short drabble format

at first, i thought zhongli's echo doesn't show up when it's raining (i was in the middle of fighting the oceanid boss). and it made me think; what if his dragon side absolutely abhor rainwater? he's still always a gentleman, of course ー giving you his coat to use as an umbrella upon unexpected downpours; but it's funny to think that inwardly he's just silently screeching something along the line of "curse the rainwater in my shoes curse the rainwater in my hair this does not bring joy at all" within the confines of his lizard brain. he will most definitely make excuses of being cold from the rain and insists on bathing together afterward, too. you may think he's trying to seduce you, but in reality, this old dragon just wants the icky cold rainwater out of his hair.

and then, i noticed that i was wrong ー it gets hidden when any sort of combat happens (i'm not sure if this is an iOS-only decision to conserve resources so that processing power for particle effects can be allocated to the fight's particle effects, or if it's a design decision because they don't want it to interfere with the battle experience).

and i've decided i shall think of it as a zhongli equivalent of men cracking their neck before they get serious. it's not exactly his real tail, after all - he's consciously controlling it, all because you wished he would show his draconic features more often, but he can't really have his horns or tail out in public. hence its disappearance whenever he has to focus that consciousness into something else.

this also means the shiny golden apparition would be nowhere to be found whenever he's intent on pleasuring you... but, perhaps if you rile him enough, you'll be subjected to a very solid dragon's tail, as majestic and mesmerizing as it is deadly, wrapped around your waist as he devours his favorite meal and milk your pleasure until you're all loose for his cocks to sink into the soaked depths of your needy heat.

even though your husband might seem to be all in control and composed, all gentle smiles and the occasional mischief-filled smirks, his tail is another story entirely - the man may not know of the phrase 'cuteness aggression', but he may as well be the personification of it. his mind constantly think about how adorable you are, soft and squishy and mouthwateringly delectable, constantly warring with his own mind over wanting to sink his teeth and nibble your pliant flesh. it lashes, it slithers, it squeezes, and it's unashamedly honest in its unrestrained movements, reflective of his desires in its rawest form. it'll make sure its hard scales imprints on your skin - a unique mark to accompany the mating bite he'll generously lap and suckle on. you're akin to a sweet treat he wants to lick and nip and scratch and devour. lucky for you, his patience and self-control has been tempered and honed for more than six thousand years.

and if your mind decides to conjure any sinful fantasies involving that extra appendage of his, why not tell him? who knows, perhaps you'll arouse a certain part of his draconic brain. your husband is a good listener, but he's also an achiever, after all.

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 6

Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)

WC: 3.0K

Warnings: mentions of sex/sexual insinuations, cursing, alcohol consumption, making out (finally!)

Part 1 | Part 5 | Masterlist | Part 7

Y/N went about her day pretending nothing had happened. She continued to read her book, which Lando had been so kind as to leave open on the same page as when he took it from her (she felt even more guilty after she realised that), and talked with Pietra every now and then. 

Lando barely spoke to Y/N after their fight, only engaging when it was necessary to keep up appearances in front of Max and Pietra. Maybe he had overreacted, but he had just been hit by the harsh truth that Y/N would never be his. He had never been this close to winning her over, and now she was shutting him out. It made him realise that it would never happen, no matter how much effort he put into his relationship with Y/N. He just needed some time to process the rejection, preferably without much interference from the woman herself.

When they got back to the hotel after dinner, Lando followed Max to his room without hesitation, not wanting to be alone with Y/N. Pietra quickly grabbed her stuff and joined the other girl to get ready for a night out. Lando could use a drink, and maybe a distraction, too.

Y/N was lost in her thoughts when Pietra entered the room, absentmindedly applying her makeup.

“So, what happened between you and Lando?” Pietra asked the moment she sat down.

Y/N froze at the sudden sound breaking silence. “What do you mean?” She asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb. You told me yourself, he was all over you last night and this morning, and you’re barely speaking now. What happened at the beach?”

Y/N bit her lip. “It’s my fault. I ignored him and now he’s upset. I realised this morning that I like Lando, and now I don’t know how to act around him anymore. Regardless of what you’ve been telling me, I don’t believe he feels the same. I’m just trying to protect myself before I get hurt, I thought keeping my distance would help.”

Pietra smiled sympathetically. “He likes you, Y/N. I’m one hundred per cent sure of it. He’s just confused. Last night, you asked him to cuddle, and now you’re ignoring him. He’s probably just as lost as you are – doing the same thing; shutting you out so he doesn’t get hurt any more.” 

Y/N thought about it for a second, Pietra was making sense, but she wasn’t convinced. “Even if he does like me, all my relationships end badly. I can’t risk ruining things with Lando; it would ruin his friendship with Max and even if it doesn’t, I wouldn’t be able to face him when he comes over. Besides, what if he changes his mind, just like he did today? I can’t let myself be vulnerable with him only for him to leave when he doesn’t want me anymore.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. Lando’s been around for more than a decade, yes? He already liked you before I met him, I’m quite sure of it. He’s not going anywhere, he’s not going to change his mind, and he’s not one to give up easily. And if he were, isn’t it worth the risk? You’re never going to be sure—in any relationship,” Pietra explains gently.

She was right, Y/N realised. Maybe she should just admit it and get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid. If Pietra was convinced he had liked her for such a long time, it must be true right? Pietra wouldn’t lie to her about such a thing, not on purpose. She sighed. “I need a drink.”

“Maybe it’ll help you admit how you feel,” Pietra said, winking. She pulled Y/N into an encouraging hug, before ushering her out the door.

A cab ride later, the group arrived at the club. The music was loud, the lights dim, and the room crowded. Y/N headed to the bar straight away, immediately ordering a drink. She would need some liquid courage to confront Lando tonight, but he had already done a shot and disappeared before she could get her hands on the cocktail.

It didn’t take her long to spot Lando in the herd of people. He was dancing with a girl she’d never seen before. She seemed to enjoy the attention he was giving her, and Y/N wished she had done the same when she was on the receiving end. She watched as Max and Pietra disappeared into the crowd, a worried look on Pietra’s face when she looked at Y/N over her shoulder. But Y/N didn’t pay her any mind; her eyes were focused on Lando, and the pretty girl he was dancing with. 

She had already ordered a second drink before she had even finished the first one. She felt stupid. Lando had never liked, that much was clear, or he had gotten over her really quickly. She felt like an idiot for believing Pietra for that short moment, for wanting to talk to him and admit her feelings for him when he clearly didn’t care for her in the same way.

So, when a guy came up to her at the bar, she let him buy her a drink. If things weren’t going to work out with Lando, why shouldn’t she try with someone else? Her goal for the vacation hadn’t changed, after all. She eagerly followed Luca – or was it Luke? –  to the dance floor, ready to forget about her troubles. She looked at Lando one last time before she was pulled into the crowd.

Lando had been looking over every so often, just to make sure she was alright – or that’s what he told himself. Irritation flared up inside him when he saw her accept a drink from a man he had never seen before, again. He felt annoyed at the realisation that she clearly didn’t care to listen to him or her brother, especially when he saw her following the stranger to the dance floor. His jaw clenched in aggravation as they made eye contact – she was doing it on purpose, he was sure of it. She was taking to the floor with yet another stranger to spite him, and it was working.

He shouldn’t care about it, but he couldn’t deny his jealousy. Y/N made it clear she wasn’t interested earlier today, but still she watched him – dared him to come and do something about it, or maybe he imagined it. It shouldn’t matter, she was Max’s problem, not his. Yet, he couldn’t resist looking over every now and then. Even as a pretty blonde was putting up a show right in front of him, he was focused on the way the stranger’s hands moved over Y/N’s body, how they rested on her hips to pull her ass tightly against him, and how he kissed his way down her neck. Lando clenched his hands, needing to release some of the tension, and swallowed thickly – that was supposed to be him.

He stared at Y/N, completely ignoring the blonde he was dancing with, watching as the man’s wandering hands moved further down her body before trailing up her thighs and disappearing under the hem of her dress. He was done; he would not stand by and watch how the girl he loved was being touched by another man. He pushed the blonde away rougher than he intended. Muttering an apology, he forced his way through the crowd.

His eyes were still set on Y/N, and the man’s hand that kept moving higher and higher, as if taunting him. His jaw tightened at the crude sight, only encouraging him to move faster. When he was finally close enough he forcefully pulled Y/N’s arm, yanking her from the stranger’s grip. 

She opened her eyes, startled at the sudden contact. “Lando,” she mumbled as he tugged her along. She didn’t care to look back at Lucas or say goodbye, solely focused on the man in front of her; the man who had come to save her from a stranger once more.

Once they got to a quieter part of the club, Lando faced her. “What on earth were you thinking? I told you before, you shouldn’t accept drinks from strangers, or let them touch you like that! Let me guess, you were planning to go home with him?”

Y/N looked at him in shock before her expression faded into a frown. He had been ignoring her all day, he had made it clear he no longer wanted anything to do with her, and now he was pulling her away from another man – what did he want from her? “Why do you care? You’re not my boyfriend! You don’t even like me!” She exclaimed frustratedly.

Lando froze at her words, completely taken aback. He thought he had been very clear with his intentions from the start; he had spent the entire vacation flirting with her, paid for her food and drinks, pulled out her chair, touched her whenever she would allow him, and now she was accusing him of not liking her? She couldn’t be more wrong, or oblivious for that matter. 

“What the hell makes you think that?” He demanded, moving closer. His eyes wide in frustration as he provoked her, trying to find out where it had gone wrong.

Y/N stuttered under his intense gaze, suddenly forgetting why exactly she had concluded that. “You… You always make fun of me, and—”

“What?” Lando interjected. Made fun of her? He had teased her, yes, but he had never humiliated her, had he? He began to doubt himself, but didn’t let it show.

“You know, for a short moment there I thought P was right; that you actually liked me, but I realise now I was stupid. You don’t like me, or you sure got over it quickly!” Y/n said with more confidence. She was done with this. The entire vacation had been awkward and weird and she needed clarity; she needed to suck it up and get it over with; finish whatever was going on, even if she got hurt or humiliated herself in the process.

“What are you talking about?” Lando asked confused. At least she had gotten the hint sometime this vacation, but moving on? He hadn’t attempted it, and he wouldn’t succeed if he tried.

“The girl you were dancing with? She’s pretty,” Y/N huffed.

Lando laughed at her – so she had been watching him, too? – and Y/N flushed in frustration. “The girl I was dancing with?”

She nodded.

“You think I care about her?” He asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief; as if her assumption was ridiculous. The way she acted – her arms crossed, and the pouty expression he loved so much – made it clear she was jealous, and Lando thoroughly enjoyed it; it was about time she returned the favour.

Y/N became defensive. “You seemed pretty into her. Yet, here you are, lecturing me about who I dance with, while you were—”

“You call that dancing?” Lando interrupted harshly, stepping closer again. “You were about to fuck in the middle of the dancefloor.”

Y/N gasps in offence. “I was not! I would never do that, I wasn’t going to go home with him! I don’t even know him, I—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Lando’s lips had crashed onto hers, silencing her effectively. Her protest and apparent jealousy were enough reason for him to believe she liked him back; enough reason for him to risk it. Y/N’s body froze in surprise, but the moment she felt Lando’s lips move against hers, firm yet desperate, she relaxed in his strong hold. His hands glided over her body before one settled on her hip, pulling her closer, while the other slid behind her neck, guiding her deeper into the kiss.

Y/N’s mind was reeling, her heart pounding heavily as she gasped for breath when Lando suddenly pulled away, letting go of her body. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” 

Before he could finish his apology, Y/N yanked him back by his shirt, cutting him off with her lips. Her fingers tangled in his curls, tugging softly as her other hand kept its tight grip on his shirt, as if she was afraid he’d try to pull away again.

Lando groaned softly against her lips, his hand sliding down her side again, his touch possessive yet gentle. He pulled her closer and pressed his hips into hers, a stark contrast to the gentle stroke of his thumb on her cheek. 

Y/N lost herself in the moment, surrendering to the intensity of Lando’s kiss, her body responding to his every touch, every caress. At this moment, she would go along with whatever he wanted, enjoying it far too much to protest.

When the heat of the moment had worn off, Y/N finally pulled away, in desperate need of some fresh air. She leant her forehead against Lando’s, her eyes closed as she tried to process the situation. She’d kissed Lando, but what did this mean? Did he like her? Were they in a relationship now or would they go back to being friends tomorrow? She was incredibly confused, even more so than before.

Lando’s voice broke her train of thoughts. “We should… probably find Max and Pietra,” he muttered, softly squeezing her waist as if to wake her up from her thoughts. Y/N nodded, her cheeks flushed from Lando’s penetrative gaze and, not to forget, the intense kiss.

Lando led her to the bar, hoping to get a better view of the club from there, maybe Max and Pietra would spot them there, too. His hand was back in its rightful place on Y/N’s back as he guided her through the club. A small, satisfied smile settled on her face at the feeling, but she wasn’t reassured just yet; they needed to talk.

“There you are!” Pietra exclaimed when they neared the bar, quickly pulling Y/N into a hug. Pietra eyed the girl suspiciously at the lack of distance between her and Lando but didn’t mention it right away. Although it was obvious something had happened, she wasn't entirely sure what – she would ask later, when they were alone.

Max was oblivious, however. “You guys good to leave? We want to head back to the hotel,” he said, sending a cheeky look and wink over to Pietra.

Y/N nearly gagged at the suggestive comment but nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’re good to go,” she said, her eyes flicking to Lando’s for confirmation.

“Okay, let’s go,” Max uttered before heading the group in search of the exit. Lando walked ahead of Y/N, reaching his hand behind him for her to grab. He looked at her over his shoulder when it took too long, wiggling his fingers impatiently. Y/N blushed and grabbed his hand quickly, letting him guide her through the crowd.

The group entered one of the many taxis waiting outside the club. Max took the passenger’s seat as the rest settled in the back, Y/N in the middle. She could feel the gentle pressure and warmth of Lando’s hand on her bare knee as he rubbed slow circles into her skin. Pietra nudged her to catch her attention, nodding to Lando’s hand with a questioning look, only causing Y/N to blush more fiercely.

Pietra and Max quickly escaped to their room when they arrived at the hotel. If the sneaky kisses in the elevator were any indication of what was about to go down, Y/N was happy that their rooms weren’t next to each other.

Lando and Y/N slowly walked to their room, wanting to extend the moment before they had to face the reality of the situation.

“You okay?” Lando asked once they’d entered the room. His tone was soft and gentle, matching the reassuring hand rubbing her arm. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, so many thoughts running through my head right now. Like, what does this mean? You still haven’t confirmed that you like me too, and I don’t want this to be just a one-time thing, you know?” She admitted quietly, as if that would make the statement less intimidating. 

“I like you, is that enough confirmation for you?” Lando said teasingly, yet lovingly. He couldn’t believe she still wasn’t sure about that after the kiss they shared. “And I don’t want that either,” he continued. “You think I would flirt with you for years just to have a one-time thing?” Lando questioned, his tone equally as soft as hers.

“No. But then again, I didn’t know you were flirting, I thought you were just making fun of me the entire time.”

Lando’s jaw hung slack at her comment, surprised at how bold she could be when she sounded so sweet. “Are you insulting my flirting now?”

“Hmm, maybe…” She said, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “Your name is perfect for it, Lando Norizz.” She giggled at her joke, and the fake offence Lando displayed.

“It worked though,” he protested.

“Just barely, it took a lot of intervention from P for me to realise you liked me.”

“Okay, I think that’s enough slander for tonight. Let’s go to sleep, hm?” Lando said, trying to distract her from making any more comments about his non-existent ‘rizz’.

She rolled her eyes, ready to protest, when he shut her up with a kiss. Not as firm and passionate as before, but sweet and adoring instead. She held his face gently, angling his lips to perfectly fit hers, before pushing him away.

“Sleep, you said?”

– – – – –

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[q8qwertyuiop8p]

Something that has really bugged me about season two is Jinx's hallucinations and PTSD. It magically disappears when Silco dies, save for two scenes. I remember when people on reddit were literally making jokes about the writers going this route because it would be so stupid.

One of the things I loved about season one was the realistic depictions of mental illness that you just don't see often in media. I don't know what it is like to experience schizophrenia, but I have experienced PTSD and paranoia, and seeing how it was represented in Arcane was actually one of the things that helped me through it.

And then season 2 comes around and they just completely neglect this side of Jinx.

PTSD isn't a switch that can magically be flipped off. Recovery is a slow and gradual process. In absolutely no world would Jinx killing yet another family member cure her of her conditions, it would make them 10 times worse. Not to mention just before killing him she has an extremely severe psychotic episode, which would only make forgetting her trauma even more difficult since it was just brought up fresh in her mind.

And what even about the end of s1 was it that healed her? I genuinely have no idea, because she finally chooses Jinx only to once again go back and forth between Jinx and Powder in season two, because apparently all that buildup for her final decision was for nothing.

She does experience two hallucinations (I'm not going to count the jail silco thing in act three because what even was that?) when she sees enforcer Vi and when Sevika talks about the attack at Vander's statue, but suddenly that is all that triggers her?

In season one, just seeing Vi, or even someone who looks like Vi triggers her. But now when Vi is literally trying to capture and possibly kill her she is fine, it's only the mask that bothers her? Wasn't that her worst fear, that Silco and Sevika were right, that Vi only wanted to stop her? And she is constantly triggered by Cait in season 1 but not 2?

And then there was the insulting ending, where jail Silco tells Jinx to 'break the cycle' (something he would absolutely never do) and Jinx finally finds redemption by literally killing herself after Isha kills herself in what is framed as an act of heroism (and if Jinx actually didnt, than what even was the point of that scene?) What happened to Ekko trying to stop Jinx from doing that? What happened to Silco having Singed revive her to save her life after she attempts to take it? Or Jayce and Viktor talking each other out of it? Or Silco choosing to keep fighting rather than give into the "peace in water"?

On purpose or not season 2 frames suicide as a glorious, edgy, perhaps even necessary thing and it's disgusting.

[allbuthuman]

Ever think about how it makes so much sense for Vash to have even more dissociative symptoms than those we see?

Like. His body was handled extremely violently against his will in a situation heavily mimicking assault twice. After one incident he had severe memory loss and constant nightmares and flashbacks, and after the other he was so gone from himself that he could do nothing but wander around in what could easily be described as a fugue state (and for all we know wasn't even responsive when Lina found him). He was kept in a tiny space for fucking months on the ark, that can't not fuck somebody up.

And Vash is full of heart. He bears to have space to witness and remember and be affected by the people that he meets even after 150 years, even after this much hurt. And he does so decidedly. For someone like him, having to constantly put his emotions aside in order to handle whatever dire situation at hand, having to put his grief on hold 'cause he just has to jump into the next fight, must take a whole lot of compartmentalisation.

The thing is, he seems okay with closeness most of the time, even initiating it, and in that context it's so easy to imagine all this trauma hitting him when he least expects it. Someone happens to touch him in a way that mimics an Incident a little too much and he just goes Blank. Or his body refuses to listen to him, refuses to move at all or moves on autopilot against his will, or he feels numb when he should be feeling so much, when he's used to feeling so much, and he's unable to tell anyone what's wrong when asked, or so scared 'cause Fuck, what if his body or mind that he already has no regard for betrays him when people need him the most?

And I bet he'd hate it even more than the average guy, 'cause he loves being around people, both by nature at this point and deliberately, and he wouldn't care about himself nearly enough to try to figure out his own triggers, not when he'd have to decidedly relive everything in the process just to learn how to be kinder to himself, but being unable to predict when your mind's gonna do you in is Terrifying. man.

[dix0nvix3n]

A Peaceful Moment

-`✮´- Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Pregnant!Reader

-`✮´- Media: The Walking Dead

-`✮´- Warning: None really besides nondescriptive smut and describing reader getting horny lmao, other than that this fic is pure fluff. Oh, and mentions of cum, oops (During aftercare.)

-`✮´- Summary: Daryl catches you working on your baby's crib when you shouldn't be so he helps you finish it and you can't help but get turned on by him in the process and he helps you with that of course and you fall asleep in his arms after. You also see a glimpse into your future of your kid with Daryl.

-`✮´- Word Count: 2.1K

You're standing in front of a changing table, looking down at a miscellaneous selection of tools that you took from Daryl's toolbox in the garage and a larger than a newspaper-sized instruction manual on how to build a crib that currently was in multiple parts on the floor surrounding you. 

 

Your morning brain was having a hard time making sense of the instructions, but you needed to figure it out somehow. A few days ago you hit the eight-month mark in your pregnancy, and you were currently in fully crazed nesting mode. This crib was the last thing in the nursery that needed to be done before the room could finally be finished; you needed it to be perfect. 

 

Daryl had come home late from a run late last night, and you wanted to let him sleep in since he rarely ever does, so even though you needed help, you weren't going to wake him up and ask for it. 

 

All of a sudden you hear footsteps behind you and a "What are you doing?"

 

You turned around to face Daryl, who had a playfully stern demeanor on his face. You knew Daryl didn't want you working on the crib, but you did it anyway.

 

Daryl wouldn't let you lift a finger during your pregnancy, so scared that you may overwork yourself and harm the baby. Having waited so long to start your family together, it was a blessing to find out you were finally pregnant just two months after the war with The Saviors had ended and Daryl wasn't going to let anything happen to your baby. 

 

Every time you and Daryl worked on the nursery, you technically never worked. Daryl would have you sit down in the rocking chair in the corner and tell you, "You direct, I do." 

 

"Shit, sorry." You ran your hands through your hair and let out a stressed sigh, looking down at the parts that surround you. "I know you want me to relax, but the baby is almost here, and I can't relax knowing this nursery isn't done. This crib is the final thing that needs to be done to finish the nursery, and I can't relax until it's finished."

 

Daryl can instantly tell how stressed you are; he knew when you were focused on something you couldn't know peace until it was done, just like him many times. 

 

"Hey, look at me." He reaches a hand out and gently places it under your chin, turning your head so that you're looking him in the eye now. "I'm gonna finish this right now so you don't have to worry about a damn thing."

 

His close proximity made your cheeks heat up; every word or action this man bestowed upon you always made you feel entirely loved and cared for. "Really?" You looked up at him, smiling softly. 

 

Daryl notices the shift in hue in your face, so he gently brushes his thumb against the apple of your cheek, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

 

"Mmhm," he hums affirmitively, "you just sit over there lookin’ pretty for me, okay?" 

 

He steps a little closer to you, his hand now moving from your face to gently rest on the top of your bump, a protective and loving gesture. 

 

His actions sent a sudden and unexpected pulse of arousal straight down to your core. With the constant changing of your hormones through your pregnancy, it was hard to not get turned on by everything your husband did. It was basically impossible to not constantly be craving him. 

 

You placed your hand on top of his before your daydream was ruined by a swift kick against Daryl's hand. You were so down bad that even for just a moment you considered pushing all of the crib business to tomorrow. 

 

A small chuckle escapes Daryl's lips once he feels another kick, a feeling that he'd never get tired of. He gently rubs his thumb back and forth, crinkling the fabric of the old Motörhead shirt of his that he'd let you wear all the time. 

 

"Okay. I guess I'll just get to work folding some more of the clothes we got. Thank you, hon." You looked up at him with an appreciative smile. 

 

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead before he gently turns you around, ushering you towards the rocking chair in the corner of the room as he begins to look at the selection of tools you brought up.

 

Once you sat down, you grabbed the black garbage bag that sat on the floor beside the chair. It was filled with various clothing items found on runs or were gifted from other communities from families whose children didn't need them any more. 

 

Most of the clothes you and Daryl had for the baby were gender-neutral because you and Daryl had no idea what you were having. It was just your luck when you found out you were pregnant that you were never able to get any ultrasounds done because somehow both the machines in Alexandria and at Hilltop had stopped working and no one has been able to find a new one since. 

 

Daryl glances over at you every so often as he puts together the crib, his eyes shifting from the task at hand back to you. He watches as you fold a onesie, using your belly as a space to fold it.

 

Despite the fact you had no idea if you were having a boy or a girl, Daryl for a few months now has had an inkling it was going to be a girl. He had no concrete reasoning, just an almost always right intuition. 

 

"Y'know... I know we won't know until the baby's here, but I feel like we're gonna have a girl... just a feeling though." You hum fondly at the thought, placing a stack of clothes on the dresser beside you. 

 

Daryl grins at your statement and nods, "I was just thinkin' the same thing. Just a hunch." He said as he pieced together a whole section of the crib. 

 

You smiled back at him before you returned to your work, pulling out another pile of clothes and placing them on your lap. You grabbed a shirt from the pile that you flipped around so the front faced you, smoothing out the fabric against your belly to flatten it. 

 

Once you smoothed the shirt out, you realized that it was a size meant for a toddler before you read the words, "Birthday Girl," which had an image of a birthday cake under them. 

 

"Babe, look." You let out a little giggle as you held up the shirt to show Daryl. 

 

"Well, damn, that sure feels like a sign."

 

“If we have a girl, we'll keep it for when she fits it; if not, I'll give it to Aaron for Gracie to have.” 

 

After a bit more time, Daryl had finished the crib and stood up, pushing the crib against the wall as you folded the last item in the bag—a pastel green onesie with a pattern of rabbits leaping throughout—and placed it with the other stacked clothes up on the dresser. 

 

You stood up slowly, adjusting to the movement as you held a hand on your bump to help stabilize yourself, and walked over to beside Daryl at the crib. 

 

You looked at the crib and then at him, “It's perfect,” as you traced your hand along the smoothly painted white finish, “Thank you.” 

 

“It's no problem, hon.” He replied as he wrapped his arm around the small of your back. 

 

“Oh, wait! One more thing!” You ran out of the embrace of his arm and ran towards the dresser, pulling open one of the smaller drawers and pulling something out. 

 

“Can't forget this.” In your hands, you held up a Winnie the Pooh-themed mobile that hung little plushes of the characters, honeybees, and jars of honey, of course gifted by Rick when he got super excited to finally be an honorary uncle. 

 

You stood back beside Daryl and hooked the mobile onto the crib's extended attachment that could hang one over the crib. 

 

You watched Daryl touch it, gently spinning it around, imagining the view your baby would soon get to see. Your baby would soon be lulled to sleep as they look up at the spinning objects and beyond it to the many glow in the dark stars scattered along the ceiling that you had Daryl stick on. 

 

Once the mobile stopped turning, he looked at you as you beamed at him, deeply taking in the moment of this side of Daryl no one gets to see—something special just for you. 

 

He brought his hand to your face again, brushing his thumb against your cheek, causing you to gently shiver. 

 

You looked up and crinkled your nose sweetly at him, a soft smile graced upon your lips. “You better make love to me right now.” 

 

Daryl quickly grabbed your hand, walking fast towards the bedroom as you giggled in toe behind him. Once your bedroom door was shut, he instantly freed you of his shirt before gently helping you down onto the bed, littering kisses along your chest and onto your tummy. 

 

This far along into your pregnancy, side sex became a favorite position for you and Daryl. It was easy on your body so you'd feel comfortable and also not strain yourself, but it also always felt perfectly close and intimate as Daryl held you in a cocoon of loving warmth as he'd bring you to your peak, safely wrapped in his arms while he filled you with another warmth, softly muttering his praises into your ear and against your neck as his hips stuttered, eventually coming down from his own high. 

 

Once you were done, he'd pull out, making you mumble out a groan, missing the feeling of him being inside you as you tiredly blinked your eyes shut, exhausted from having woken up early. 

 

One moment you hear Daryl turn the sink on in the bathroom, and the next you hummed contently at the feeling of a cool washcloth wiping away yours and Daryl's combined fluids before your pair of sleep shorts were slid back up your legs. 

 

Daryl forced you to get up and go to the bathroom before you could go back to sleep. Once you got back from the bathroom, he already had shoved the massive pregnancy pillow he had found you under the blankets so it would circle the both of you in a loving hold—a nest of sorts. 

 

You tucked your back tight against his chest, and he placed a hand on your belly, and soon you were out like a light, both of you falling asleep into a nap that ran into the late afternoon. 

Here you are, two years later, as you and Daryl sit in your dining room, beside your two-year-old daughter, Willow, surrounded by the people you've come to know as family over the years, still missing Rick and imagining him there like you did on her first birthday. 

 

She had just gotten done blowing out her two candles, and Willow stared down at the chocolate cake, mesmerized by the specially made sweet treat for her birthday, amazed because it was rare to have desserts to this degree as it was much harder to come by the ingredients to make a dessert of its size, but your pride and joy deserved a cake on her birthday. On her first birthday, you were only able to make her a cinnamon muffin, the one-year-old didn’t know what cake was so she had nothing to compare the muffin to, she just knew she was enjoying sugar for the first time, blinking excitedly at her parents who watched her eyes light up as she ate a bite of a muffin you gave her.

 

It took a lot of reading, but you finally found a recipe book in Alexandria's library that had a recipe for chocolate cake that you could actually have all of the ingredients for. 

 

Willow picked up her spoon, shoveling up a big bite of her slice before holding the spoon out to you and saying, “Mama, try.” as she pressed the spoon against your lips. 

 

“No, baby. It's your birthday; you get the first bite. Mama will have her own slice.” You smiled at her and redirected her spoon back towards her. 

 

She looked down at her spoon and then at Daryl as he smiled at her, waiting for her to take a bite before she held the spoon up to his lips. 

 

“Try, daddy.” Daryl was about to oppose and tell her the same thing you did; before Willow giggled and shoved the bite past his lips and into his mouth. 

 

You and the entire room lit up with laughter as Daryl swallowed down the bite as a few crumbs fell onto the birthday girl's shirt, the same one you found her two years ago. 

 -`✮´- Extra Author's Note: This is my first ever finished oneshot, please be gentle! Also does anyone want to be tagged in an everything tag, I'm a slow poster so you won't be spammed or anything. I'm surprised I actually finished something for once cause I randomly started this last night even though I have many wips I can't finish. Sorry readers for my series if you're waiting for chapter 2, writing is hard 😭. Also! Dividers by cafekitsune!!! Follow them!!!

[neiptune]

jjk characters x how to know they're in love

cw: mentions of alcohol, i wanted something quick and fun to write, as always this is nothing but my personal interpretation of characters i happen to love very much! i really hope these will warm you up on cold december nights :)

it's common knowledge that yuuji is affection & warmth incarnated therefore the question is, how can you tell that someone like him has fallen for you and is not simply being his usual self? well, he had to learn the hard way that extra efforts are needed to convey what he feels for that special someone. they aren't going to assume, they won't guess, so what's left to do if not being absolutely adamant about his feelings? you will know yuuji is in love because he will tell you. yuuji, in turn, will know he's in love because his heart will disclose the feeling to him immediately, as soon as he starts thinking that a good day is not so good if you're not around and certainly never good enough if he can't tell you about it. his love resides in his eyes and nestles between his eyelashes, it's the one thing he's jealous of and selfishly hopes no one else will ever look at you and see just how brightly you shine. he makes the process of falling for him exceptionally gentle, too: you never once have to brace yourself for the landing because he would never allow you to crash to the ground anyway.

megumi knows the second he starts noticing all the times you're not there, which means he will stop taking for granted the mornings when you utter soft greetings or show up with an extra coffee for him. he knows when the fact that you have his order memorized feels special enough to make him want to investigate & find out what your order is, an entire afternoon spent racking his brain & asking himself if you enjoy milk or cream or nothing at all, exasperation forcing him to sternly interrogate mutual friends until a conclusion is reached at last. you will know megumi is in love when he stops hiding away from your touch, pretty blush coating his cheeks as the pads of your fingers explore his features, travel along the bridge of his nose or run through his strands. his love is strong, explodes in a chest that feels exceptionally hollow when you're not pressed against it at night. megumi thinks being in love is scary and something he may not be entirely built for and yet he welcomes the feeling bravely, never shying away from a challenge with himself.

it would take nobara some time to get accustomed to the idea of having fallen for you: she doesn't let people in easily and the fact that you have managed to reserve such a unique seat for the messy spectacle that is her life takes her breath away for quite some time. she knows she's in love as she rejects the idea right away, to protect herself and to protect you. what does she have to offer, really? why would you want to take whatever she has to give? still, nobara can't help but constantly bring the thought of you with her. she's shopping, busy paying for a cute sweater and oh, would you look at that? you'd love that shirt, so she gets it. she's at the movies with yuuji and a particularly disgusting scene comes up: he's in awe and, with a grimace, she knows you'd find that splatter mess cool too. so she has to snap a picture and send it, heart nearly bursting at the little "seen" that blinks at her just a few seconds after the message is sent. nobara's love is on her lips, as they tremble when she's at her most vulnerable, when they trace your jaw and explore your throat. you know she is in love way before she stops resisting it, way before she even realizes herself.

oh man satoru will know he's in love the literal second he feels the urge to talk to you. i know the man never shuts the fuck up but he'll want to really talk to you: he can't bear the thought of his reputation, fame, or whatever you want to call it, shaping the idea you have of him. he knows he's in love because he cares about what you actually think, he worries that his smart mouth has annoyed you beyond repair, for once he is desperate to sculpt his true identity himself and engrave it in your mind. you know satoru is in love when he speaks of what he doesn't mention to anyone else: his walls are not particularly high but he calls the shots on who gets to climb over them and he wants to welcome you on the true side of his persona so badly it keeps him awake at night. satoru's love lives in his hands, pale, lithe fingers that always have to be on you somehow. he touches you to make sure you're listening, to check if you're actually in his kitchen putting breakfast together. he touches you to memorize the spaces between your ribs, to wonder if between all the muscular layers and the neurovascular bundle there is room for him to take root in the body of the very first person he truly wants to stay alive for.

suguru is already all too familiar with love and its many facets: affection, devotion, loyalty, obedience. he's received a great deal of what he recognizes as love but hasn't really ever been in the position of reciprocating the feeling in its most raw, helpless form. yet, that is exactly what you reduce him to. he'll know he's in love when all he wants is truly, actually listen to you. learn all there is to learn, explore all there is to discover. you know suguru is in love when he stares at you so intently as you speak, not even interrupting the string of sentences to warn you about the tea he has prepared going cold, his own cup turned icy long ago. you know suguru is in love because he makes no secret of how avidly he craves your presence in his life, of the way for the very first time he prays it doesn't come with any deal breakers: is it okay that he has two young daughters? will the blood on his hands scare you off? the feeling of being in love conquers his entire being, selfish tenderness blossoming in his lungs, flowing relentlessly in blood vessels and vertebral arteries. you take over. you soothe his mind. you're all he feels, you're everything he'll ever want to have. tell him, tell him, tell him and then tell him some more: he'll be there to take you in every chance he gets.

to me shoko's approach to love is very analytical, she doesn't want to make a big deal out of it. she'll know she's in love because you prompt all the usual reactions: racing heart and occasional sweaty palms, happiness, the so-called butterflies in her tummy. but unfortunately she also knows the scientific details about what's really going on, which makes everything far less romantic. noradrenaline, dopamine, phenylethylamine. love isn't but a fairly complex chemical reaction, the feeling given by attraction doesn't differ much from what stems from indulging in a couple bottles of wine. and yet alcohol doesn't smile the way you do, the thought of it doesn't make her stop in the middle of a medical examination and it certainly doesn't make her want to go out of her way to change. shoko will know she's in love as the feeling plants itself in her altered brain chemistry and convinces her that her personality should follow suit. because you'd never want someone who seems so distant, always calm and rational and so... boring. right? you'll know shoko is in love because she makes the effort and she'll know you're the right match the moment you murmur that you'd never want her to change, to be anything but the powerful, familiar grounding force that makes her so graciously human.

nanami writes more when he's in love. he's always been a reader, never has enough time to explore all the books he keeps adding to his never ending list really, but he's also always been a writer: short stories, haikus, poems, single sentences that are nothing but timid attempts at encapsulating days, moments, feelings, nights spent thinking or reminiscing. you start to become part of those stories, of those messily scribbled poems and thoughts. this will sound very cheesy but i'm confident nanami's love settles over his heart like a warm blanket. he knows he's in love when everything he reads, writes, does, leads back to you. what good are his cooking skills if he can't make you your favorite dinner? why should he buy that book he's been waiting forever to start, if there's this other novel you can't stop excitedly telling him about? did his writings ever hold any value before he could go through the pages of one of his leather bound notebooks, you comfortably settled in his arms, back pressed to his chest on the couch he only bought because you jokingly said it could accommodate you both? you know he's in love because softness settles in the corners of his eyes whenever you utter his name, an elegant fountain pen frozen mid air at the sound of your voice, the simple word kento suddenly earning a whole new meaning, always pronounced with an inflection so special it's now more than just his name.

yuuta feels a lot and he feels it deeply: fear, courage, affection. his feelings clutch his stomach and make him feel as if his insides are being squeezed. he doesn't appreciate newness, he's perfectly content with the people who are part of his life and a routine that doesn't make him wonder what the new day will bring. but then you happen and the boy who thought he knew everything is left to learn something new about himself: how he navigates a love that is real, pulsing with life, threatening to overturn his carefully built balance. he welcomes it tentatively, willing to learn, accepting the chance that he might have to confront it. but love doesn't turn out to be a challenge for him. yuuta knows he's in love because it's the first thing that feels easy in his life, to love you is the one thing that comes naturally. you know he's in love because he doesn't attempt to hide it and, hell, he doesn't even care if love makes him weird. he wants you there always, wants to ask about your day and hopes you'll also going to be interested in his. yuuta wants to pose silly questions because you're the first real person he needs to learn everything about. have you ever slow danced? how often do you experience food poisoning? what's your favorite song to sing in the shower? it's okay if you don't love him back too (as if lmfao), you have already given him everything by allowing him to find out that he can feel this way.

as a heavily stubborn & independent person, maki would understand right away that you're dangerous. a threat, even. she'd interally panic about it lol too bad you're equally strong-willed and determined to break through that standoffish facade. you succeed earlier than expected but maki won't let you know until months later, the first christmas holidays spent together, yuuta's house warming party the perfect excuse to indulge in a little too much mulled wine. you find out that maki's love is all in her voice, sincere affection vibrates along the entire story of your first encounter recounted to a table filled with your mutual friends in great, borderline obsessive detail. she remembers your hair, the outfit you were wearing, that cute tote bag filled with groceries. her voice is warm and tender when no one else can hear it, on the frosty mornings she orders to forget about cooking breakfast to keep you in bed a few minutes more, in secret moments she gets to hold you close and murmur sweet nothings in the curve of your neck, pauses between words and stifled giggles sounding suspiciously similar to i love you, i love you, i love you.

inumaki's love lives in his throat, torments him day and night because there's nothing he would rather speak of. you, you, you. he was always worried he'd fail to express how he truly feels but you happen to get it just right. not just because he makes significant exceptions for you (sorry but the man will speak and his dumbass sense of humor will cause a sore throat endless times) (yes he has used his cursed technique to ask you to stand still while in compromising positions or to give him a kiss after a stupid argument -> you'll do so and then smack his arm as he sticks his tongue out) but most importantly because the limited communication inumaki has been used to ever since forever also forced him to learn how to get the message across differently. and so you know he's in love because he makes sure you have your cup of tea ready in the morning, because he texts you pictures of stray cats or memes he doesn't really understand with a demanding '???' underneath them. you know inumaki is in love because his friends seem to know a whole lot about you and it's only the first time you're meeting most of them. he knows he's in love when you fall asleep next to him and his pointer finger delicately traces the echo of those three words along your spine over and over and over again.

[chukys-mouthguard]

What if?

Genre: fluff

Word count: 3,229 words

Featuring: matt rempe x female reader

Warnings: drunk guy being an asshole at the bar, aggressive/protective Matt

Note: okay, this is the first thing I’ve written in years, please be kind 😅 I just got a thing for this man now idk…feel free to send in some requests or let me know if you want more to this story? Not sure if it will be a one off or a little series

“Okay, how do I look?” You walk down the hall of your apartment, stopping to pose for Matt so he can give you his stamp of approval. He eyes you up and down, as if he is going to deliver some harsh critique. Your outfit is nothing crazy; jeans, a gray long sleeved bodysuit, black heeled boots, and a small cross body bag. With the New York City weather still chilly out, you figured it would keep you warm along with the alcohol you’d be consuming.

“Beautiful as always. But let’s try and keep the collecting of guys' phone numbers to a minimum tonight huh?” You laughed as you playfully smacked Matt’s arm. Making your way to the fridge to grab your High Noon you’d started sipping on before getting dressed. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous Matthew Rempe.” He shot you a cocky smirk as he leaned on the kitchen island next to you. “Me? Jealous? Never. Because I’m the one in your apartment and not them.” You rolled your eyes as you swallowed down the last bit of seltzer before unplugging your phone from the charger nearby. “Okay Mr. Chauffeur, let’s hit the road.”

You loved having Matt in NYC playing with the Rangers. The two of you had been best friends since you were teenagers, though you’d lost touch a bit once you moved to New York. Matt’s stint in Hartford allowed the chance to slowly reconnect, but having him now with the Rangers was even better. The two of you often spent nights at each other's apartments, going out to dinner, and of course you attended every home game you could to see Matt play.

You’d always had a soft spot for Matt. Sure he was a bit intimidating being practically 7 feet tall, his knuckles cut up or bruised half the time, and a black eye never seeming to catch you off guard anymore. But you’d gotten close enough to see the side of him most people don’t experience. Though you never imagined your relationship being anything more than what it was. Friends, and nothing more than that. But you couldn’t deny the way you had paid attention to how he’d grown into a man. He had outgrown his awkward phase, and you now looked at him and saw him as handsome, not cute or adorable like he was when you were growing up.

You constantly find yourself thinking, what if you weren’t just imagining things? When he spends the night and walks into your room wearing just a towel after a shower. The way he hugs you and lingers longer than just a friend would. The way he takes care of you when you’re drunk. Or nights like tonight, where he’s willing to stay up late to be your designated driver when he’s got an early morning skate and a big game tomorrow night.

Just one day, one day you’d love to kiss him and see what happens. Or flirt a little extra and see if he takes the bait. But you also don’t want to lose your best friend in the process, or be turned down and embarrassed for thinking he’d ever feel that way about you.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Matt asks as he puts a hand on the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, backing out of his parking space. It’s such a cliche action, but boy does he look good doing it, and your heart certainly skipped a beat.

“The typical routine. Start at Tucker’s. Then move on to 1989. Then finish-“ “At Coop’s?” Matt smirked as he looked out at the road. One hand on the wheel with the other resting on his thigh. He was literally in jeans and a hoodie yet somehow he looked just as good as he does in a suit on game day. “Either that means I go out too much, or you’re finally starting to pay attention when I tell you things.” “Definitely not paying attention, it’s you going out too much.” He laughed as you playfully punched his arm, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you were a few minutes away.

“So Cooper’s closes at 2:30, but I honestly don’t think I’ll last that long. Especially because someone has a big game tomorrow! And I wanna be well rested. So let’s plan for like 12:30/1? Is that okay?” You looked at Matt a bit apologetic, knowing he’d have to be up early for morning skate. But he was always adamant about driving you, no matter what time it was.

“Of course, you know I’ll be here no matter the time. I’ll plan to be at Coop’s around 12:45. I’ll come in to get you too, it’s gonna be cold and dark out. I don’t want you walking to find me.” You put a hand to his cheek as you make a joking pouty expression. “Aww, such a gentleman Matty.” He smiled at your touch, almost leaning into your hand as he looked back at you, “Anything for you. Now go on, I know the girls are waiting. Text me if you need anything, and I mean anything y/n. I’m not that far of a drive.” You let out a sigh as you undid your seatbelt, “Honestly Matt, nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine.” You blew him an air kiss as you exited the car, heading into the first bar of the night. Matt sat and watched you show your ID to the man at the door, waiting until he saw you get inside safely to drive away.

As promised, Matt arrived at Cooper's around 12:45. He was thankful that you and your friends chose to end your nights at a bar that wasn’t too crazy, but also not too crowded that he might be recognized. Just to be safe he threw on a hat to shield his face as much as he could, though the bar was so dark he doubted anyone would be able to make out his face in the crowd.

He handed his ID to the bouncer before making his way inside. He texted you a simple “I’m here”, you would know his typical meeting place and where to go. You were in the restroom when Matt texted, quickly replying “bathroom, be right out” before you sighed as you stared blankly at the wall. The line in the girls restroom always 100 times longer than it was for the guys.

Matt didn’t mind waiting, he checked some scores on his phone. Assuming that the line was long since girls love to use the buddy system when going to the bathroom. He scanned the crowd and enjoyed people watching, nodding his head and smiling softly as your friends gave him a wave from across the bar. He checked the time again, before glancing over towards the hallway to find you pushing past a crowd of girls to exit the restrooms. He chuckled to himself as he saw the frustration on your face, knowing you probably waited 20 minutes just to pee. He started to walk towards you but fell back as he noticed a guy stop you in your tracks.

“Can I help you?” You looked at the man a bit confused, you’d recognized him from the crowd of people, but hadn’t interacted with him much. He was out with a group of guys for someone’s birthday. You only knew that because they mentioned it to you and your friends at least 30 times. Definitely trying to help the birthday boy get laid. “I noticed you’d left your friends, I thought maybe my shot at getting to buy you a drink was gone.” You chuckled to yourself, why does this have to happen in front of Matthew?

“Oh, yeah, I’m actually on my way out. So, maybe another time. Sorry.” You try to excuse yourself but he moves with you, cutting you off. “Oh come on, one more drink isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Or if you want we could go somewhere else, just the two of us and get a drink.” He had a cocky grin on his face as you looked at him in disgust. He was clearly drunk, and wasn’t keen on taking no for an answer. You looked at Matt standing just a few feet away, a concerned look on his face as he wasn’t sure what was going on.

“Look, I’m not interested, okay?” He scoffed as he seemed to be a bit insulted by your comment. “Not interested, you and your friends were dancing right up against our group all night. I saw the way you were eyeing all of us guys, I’d say you were interested sweet heart.” You gagged at the smell of alcohol on his breath as he got closer to you. “Yeah news flash buddy, it’s a small fucking bar. My option was dancing right next to people or on the bar.”

As you tried walking past him to get to Matt, you felt a tight grip on your wrist pull you back, “That sounds hot, can you put on a show just for me?” His hands attempted to grab more than just your wrists but before you could react Matt was already stepping in, pulling the guy away from you and pinning him to the wall by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare fucking touch her like that.”

You were a bit taken aback at the way Matt stepped in. Sure he’d protected you from dumb drunk guys before, but never like this. His jaw clenched as his grip tightened on the collar of the man’s shirt. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it huh? What are you her little brother or something? Ain’t no way you’re banging a bitch like that.” Matt’s grip tightened on his collar as he pushed him harder into the wall, “what did you just call her?!” His voice louder, drawing a bit of attention, thankfully none yet from the bouncer.

“A bitch, and what are you gonna do about it?” The drunk dumbass laughed in Matt’s face and you knew this wouldn’t end well.

Before you could step in, Matt’s fist connected with the guy's jaw, causing him to stumble to the floor. Before pulling himself together and running off to the restroom.

“Fuck!”

Matt shook his hand as he winced, immediately realizing he fucked up but his anger got the best of him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. Thank god no one seemed to really notice the altercation that just took place.

The walk to the car was quiet as Matt was still fuming, you simply climbed into the passenger in silence. He gripped the steering wheel tight with his good hand as he peeled out of the parking lot. You sat next to him, studying his face to see when it might be a good time to say something. Blue and purple started to appear across the knuckles on the hand that threw the punch as he let out a large sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a soft laugh as you rested a hand on his thigh, softly holding his bruised hand, careful not to hurt him. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything wrong? You stepped in as I would’ve hoped you would the second that guy put his hands on me. Don’t be sorry for that!” He seemed to relax at your touch, so you kept your hand on his, slowly brushing your thumb over his skin to attempt to calm him down.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, the two of you heading back to Matt’s apartment since he had to be up early for practice. You kept your eyes on him, studying the look on his face, wishing you were in his head to know what the heck he was thinking. He took your hand in his as you two walked through the quiet parking garage, then headed up the elevator.

You knew your way around his place, first going to his room to grab an oversized t-shirt to throw on before heading to the bathroom to take off your makeup. Matt was sweet enough to go out and buy you your own toiletries to keep at his place. Including your makeup remover and even your 4 step skincare routine.

Matt came to join you in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth. He smiled at the sight of you as he leaned against the wall: your hair in a messy bun, his oversized Seattle Thunderbirds t shirt covering you up enough while still giving him a good view of your legs. “What?” You chuckled as you tried not to choke on the tooth paste threatening to fall from your lips. He just shook his head, “Just glad nothing bad happened to you tonight. I’m glad I was there.” He took your hand, his fingers fiddling with yours, “I just kept thinking what if i wasn’t there, I couldn’t handle it if anything would’ve happened.”

You looked at him in the mirror, relief and exhaustion covered his face. “I’m really glad you were there too, but I really hope we don’t end up with a possible scandal on our hands.” You started laughing as you exited the bathroom, Matthew following suit. “New York Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe gets in a bar fight over a girl.” You spoke in a sarcastic newscaster voice as you made your way to the freezer, grabbing a bag of frozen peas to tend to Matt’s fist bearing the proof of his heroic actions at the bar.

Matt chuckled along with you before wincing at the feeling of the cold bag on his hand, “If it happens, so be it, I was ready to knock that son of a bitch out after what he said to you.” You shot him a glare, “Matthew Rempe. Absolutely not, I am not worth you getting in trouble with the team because of a dumb bar fight.” He walked over to you, now the one shooting you a glare. His arms rested on either side of your waist as he gripped the edge of the counter. “Y/n, yes you fucking are.” You shot him a look as he swiftly picked you up and sat you on the island in front of him. A cocky grin coming across his face at how caught off guard you were, gripping his biceps tight as his hands now moved to rest on your thighs. “I’d fight 20 guys at the bar if they put their hands on you and said shit like that guy tonight.” His tone now more serious, his smirk fading as you two stared at one another for what seemed like an hour. The voice in your head screaming at you, this is your what if moment. Take it or leave it, but it may never come again. What if he’s trying to confess his feelings, what if he’s trying to make a move but he’s too scared. What if you just beat him to the punch. What if-

Before your brain could even rationalize a thought or an action, you felt Matt’s lips crash into yours. His hands cupping your face as yours snaked up his neck to grab a handful of his hair. The kiss like fireworks and a weight being lifted off your shoulders all at once. He began to smile into the kiss, before pulling away with a slight laugh.

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly what every girl wants. The guys she’s been dreaming of kissing to pull away laughing!” You rolled your eyes and frowned at him as a look of shock washed over his face. “Been dreaming of kissing huh??? I knew it!” You immediately turned red, covering your face with your hands, though Matt found it extremely cute.

His hands gripping your thighs before lifting you off the counter, “It’s okay, i get it. I’m sure there’s lots of girls out there who dream of kissing me.” “Matt! Shut up!” You laughed as he carried you down the hall into his room, tossing you on the bed while he finally changed out of his jeans and sweatshirt. “Hey, listen…if you’re interested, maybe we could work something out so that you can be the only girl who gets to kiss me from now on. How does that sound?”

You barely heard him, too busy staring as he stood in just his underwear in front of you. Your eyes tracing every detail of him before his laugh interrupted your thoughts. “Damn, one kiss and all of sudden you’re just head over heels huh?” You pull a pillow over your face out of embarrassment as you feel the bed sink beneath his weight. Matthew now hovering above you as he pulls the pillow away from your face.

He brushed some hair from your face as your fingers play with his chain hanging from his neck, “you really want to kiss me and only me from now on?” You blushed as he shook his head laughing at you, “of course you goof! That’s all I’ve wanted for like the last 5 years, probably even longer!” You felt yourself trying to fight a smile, though you were sure your cheeks were bright red, letting Matt know you liked his response.

He laid next to you as you continued to play with his chain, now resting on his chest. His thumb tracing circles on your thigh as you smiled like a dork to yourself, your heart bursting with excitement that all your what ifs had come true.

“So if I agree to this-“ you say up, trying to pull a serious face as you looked down at him. His hands still glued to your thighs, as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you now. “Do I get a cute custom Rempe jean jacket or something to wear to your games? Like I wanna be decked out and I want people to know that I'm the only girl you’re kissing from now on.” Matt rolled his eyes and laughed at your change of tone, as you babbled on and on about your ‘conditions’ should you agree to this. But he loved the thought of you in a Rempe jacket at his games, getting to see afterwards and kiss you like crazy after a big win, to have you be his biggest fan cheering him on every night. Even though you already were, now it would be more special.

“Listen.”

Matt cut you off as he pulled you into his lap, his hand pulling your face to his as he kissed you. This time the kiss was soft, as he took his time to really take in the feeling of finally getting to kiss you and be this close to you. “If you be my girlfriend, I’ll get you whatever jacket you want, I’ll get you the best seats at the Garden for my games, you name it. Just make me the happiest guy ever and be my girlfriend!” You laughed at how he begged like a little kid who couldn’t contain their excitement.

“Yes-“ you peppered his face with a hundred kisses, “Matthew Rempe, I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.”