This Reminds Me Of When Din Calmed The Blurrg Down On S1 Mando 😭😭❤️

din: grogu, when i tell you to stop eating frog eggs you gotta stop, okay?

grogu: i just a baby

din: *dying inside* but you still gotta stop okay?

grogu: I JUST A BABY!!!

Overwhelmed

A/N: Reader has a hard day and basically goes into panic mode. Matt Murdock, perfect boyfriend he is, is there to help.

You’re late. It’s your first day and you’re late. Not for a lack of trying to get there on time, but you got lost. The campus is so immense and it’s your first time taking a class in this building. You realize that you should have toured the building before the semester started, but you didn’t and now you’re late. You race to the classroom, muttering “306, 306, room 306,” to which a passing professor kindly says, “Don’t worry, hun, you found it.” You throw her a grateful smile as you rush into the room, as discreetly as possible (not that it stops every eye in the room from staring at you), only to interrupt a professor in the midst of lecturing. He throws an annoyed look at you and carries on as you try to get settled as quietly as possible. As he goes over the syllabus, you’re trying not to shake as you type out your notes, overwhelmed by the amount of information being thrown at you. You were supposed to have the easy major in your relationship, you think bitterly as the professor explains your final project. Once he wraps up for the day, you rush out of the classroom, trying not to burst into tears at the idea of having to deal with communications theory for 14 more weeks. A class required for your major, only taught by an adjunct who only offered this class for one semester a year, at this one specific time, that you had no chance of doing remotely. You swallow around the lump in your throat as you make your way outside, to where you have to walk to your 5 hour shift at the bookstore for the rest of the night. You can’t wait to get home.

Matt is sitting on the couch, listening to case files for one of his classes when he hears you in the hallway. Even from his position, he can sense the tension radiating off of you, can almost feel the lump in your throat. Oh no, he thinks, pausing the case file and moving to the kitchen. He gets out the fancy tea you like that he knows comforts you on days like this, when your anxiety gets so bad that it’s almost suffocating, and he feels around for your favorite mug, shaped like a pig. He puts the kettle on, and unlocks the door, waiting for you to trudge up the last of the steps to get to your apartment. As you reach the door, Matt opens it for you and you launch at him, enveloped in his arms. You finally let the dam burst and you’re sobbing into his chest as he holds you, rubbing your back as he lets you let it all out. As you calm down after what feels like hours of just crying into your boyfriend, he leads you into the kitchen, where the water for your tea is ready. You watch as Matt maneuvers expertly around, preparing the tea with precision, then he hands the mug to you. The fact that he used your favorite mug almost makes you cry again. You start to drink your tea, and after you calm down further and finish it up, Matt looks in your direction, where you’re sitting on the island.

“So,” he starts soothingly, moving so that he’s situated between your legs, “wanna tell me what’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

“It was just a stressful day,” you say shakily. “I was late, and the class is a lot and with work and my other classes to think about, I spent half of the class thinking about how I can drop it, and when I realized that I can’t if I want to graduate, I spent the other half thinking about dropping out altogether, but I can’t drop out because do you know how much I’ve already paid for these past few semesters? How much my parents paid? And not to mention all the scholarships and grants and stuff, and if I throw it all away that is so much money down the drain, and I just have to get through this semester and then I’ll graduate, but it’s so much to do. And it’s like, I am a communications major, Matty. You’re the fancy lawyer who’s supposed to have the hard major, dammit, not me,” you let out in one breath. The last part makes him chuckle, but he’s still looking at you with concern after watching you work yourself up again. He can taste the tears that have started to well up in your eyes again.

“Baby, look at me,” he says, holding your face. You comply, letting the tears fall. He catches them with his thumb. “First off, how about we make a plan, hm? We can sit down together and plan out how we get you through this semester, with those lists that you love to make, sit down and make a little calendar that you can keep track of. How does that sound?” You nod a little, eyes becoming more focused as you start to formulate a list of assignments and due dates you know are coming up. “Next, you don’t have to worry about the money that was already spent. I have it on good authority that you deserved it, you earned that money from the grants and scholarships. Y/N, you are the best student I know, you work so incredibly hard for all of your many,” he drops a kiss on your nose, “many,” another on your cheekbone, “accomplishments. Your parents are proud of you, and you know they’d support you on whatever path you decide to take. I am so proud of you for getting this far, sweetness. And also, no one will be disappointed or upset if you take a little time to yourself for a while if school is too overwhelming. Got it?” You nod again, head starting to clear up. Because, he’s right. Your parents have supported you your whole life, no matter what decisions you made and what paths you chose. They paid for 4 years of your education for God’s sake. They’re in your corner. Matt continues, a little sheepishly, “and I should have taken you on a tour of the ARC before the semester started, I’ve had classes in that building before, so you being late is kind of my fault. But, on the bright side, now you know where it is. So, honey, we’ll get you through this semester, okay? First days are always overwhelming, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you repeat faintly. You follow it up by meeting his lips with yours. The kiss is slow and sweet, languid almost and you both melt into it. When you break away, he pulls you into another hug, his chin resting on the top of your head. It’s nice, but you’re thinking it could be better as you say, “Matty?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he murmurs softly.

“Take me to bed?” you ask, words starting to slur as the exhaustion caused by the day’s mental state finally sets in. He presses a smile into your hair as he lifts you up.

“Yeah, honey, let’s go to bed.”

hey let's play a drinking game where we watch whole cake island final boss fight and drink everytime big mom says "WEEDDING KEEEKIII"

in mtm have the kids ever walked in on their parents? i feel like draco would obliviate everyone lmao

His eyes were black as she moved over him, her fingers digging into his shoulders with each sway of her hips. It had been far too long since she’d felt him like this: beyond a hushed bedroom, where time ceased to exist beyond the pace of her breaths. A sharp thrust had her gasping, her neck stretching and eyelids fluttering to watch candlelight dance across the ceiling. His hands moved to her waist, guiding her in a new rhythm as she moaned, his low curses drowned out by the sound of water lapping against porcelain. 

A door creaked. “Daddy?”

Hermione yelped and fell off her husband. 

“Fu--

“Agh..!”

Her cheek smacked against Draco’s knee as they both dived for cover, water splashing across the tiles. 

She peered over the edge of the tub once her legs found purchase, ignoring Draco’s groan when she kicked him in the shin.  

Their three-year old blinked up at them with owlish hazel eyes. “Mummy? Daddy?”

“Leo.” Hermione winced at the stinging in her tailbone. “You’re up, darling. You should go back to bed--”

“What're youw doing?” 

“Oh, we were just--” Draco throat bobbed, his face ashen. “We were--”

“Playing. We were playing.” Hermione forced a smile. “Like you and Lyra used to do in the bath when you were little. Love, you should go back to--”

“But where’re youw toys?” 

“Here!” Draco scrambled to grab a shampoo bottle. Hermione glared at him. “It’s-- a special toy, it only works when you close your eyes--” 

Leo’s little features furrowed in a frown. “I come back.” 

And then he was toddling outside the way he came. 

“Shit!” Draco lurched to standing, but Hermione yanked him back down. 

“Don’t! If you leave he’ll know we were lying!” 

“Granger, I can’t just sit here and act normal when our son just--” 

“He doesn’t know what he just saw, and he won’t if you’d just quiet--” 

“I told you to lock the door! Why didn’t you bloody--”

“Where’s my wand? We need more bubbles!” 

 “Traumatized him for life--” 

“Shut it!”

There was a painful silence until they heard the sounds of small footsteps shuffling across their bedroom carpet. The door pushed open wide again.   

“Hewe! Ducky!” said Leo, waving the rubber duck above his head.  

He trotted over to them as Draco clapped a hand over his face and Hermione dipped even lower beneath the rim. 

“Ooh-- thank you so much, my wee baby.” She forced a smile as she snatched the toy. “Now that Mummy and Daddy have their proper bath toys, will you go back to bed?” 

Leo beamed up at her. “Okay.” 

---------

In a word, nonny: yes. 😂 Art by @kumatan0720. 😍

When watching/reading OoTP

Umbridge: *breathes*

Every Potterhead ever: i'm gonna f**CKIN KILL YOU

Matt: Jake. You can't say "fuck you, I do what I want" in the middle of court!

Jake: Fuck you, I do what I want.

Matt: You're on trial for manslaughter!

i'm pretty sure this is canon

MY SHAYLAAAAASS

The memories hurt sometimes

fanart of fanfic manacled by @senlinyuwrites

i came across this fanfic when browsing angst works on ao3... and i regret nothing. i know nothing about harry potter or dramione, but wow this fic just hit the right spot for me. enemies who find solace in each other 😭👌 im so weak for intense dark intimate fic

judge: how do you plead?

frank: *looks at matt*

matt: *mouths* not guilty

frank: hot milky

matt: OH FOR FUCKS SAKE