#this is literally me coming back from the dead

[floralscented]

WEDDING BELLS & 5-STAR HOTELS ─ dean winchester!

. . . or, the first time in a long time dean's stayed in a hotel room without mysterious stains in the carpet or on the sheets.

no warnings <3 just fluff! and newlywed cutesie shit!

dean was so fucking glad you talked him out of a vegas wedding.

the thought of being married by a guy masquerading as elvis presley still sounded funny as shit to him, but he did agree with the sentiment that you deserved this. the grand wedding arch, strung with flowers, the huge cake, every eye of every single one of your loved ones there for you.

you deserved to be spoiled. dean didn't need to be told it to know it, but it was hard for him, sometimes, to remind himself that he could slow down. appreciate things. you'd helped him a lot in that regard, but it was hard to untrain a soldier into being a man again.

"this bed is nice!" you call to him from the bedroom part of your suite, and he actually laughs a little at the sound of it, hearing the little bounce of the mattress springs punctuating your words.

he undoes the tie from around his neck, draping it across the back of the couch, before he circles around it to find you, exactly how he thought you'd be: jumping on the bed like a damn kid.

you looked downright beautiful, even now. especially now. hair released from it's earlier style, flowing dress replaced with a shorter, more manageable one for the after party, your heels strung across the room. you'd even put the veil back on, the end of it catching in the wind as you jumped.

dean leans in the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, mouth tilted up in amusement. "are we having fun?"

"i'm having fun," you correct, the jumps stilling, your stance a little wobbly trying to balance on the springs, "you're watching me."

dean opens his mouth to say he's always watching you, but he didn't want to come off like a weirdo or anything. you knew you were marrying a weirdo, but, like, there were limits to how much weird a person could take in their partner.

your limit, apparently, was a supernatural hunter with dead parents and a talent at killing things. maybe, actually... you wouldn't have minded to hear about how often he just watched you.

watched you jump on every hotel or motel bed you'd both gotten. watched how your eyelashes fluttered in your sleep. watched as your eyebrows pinched together when you were cleaning the blood off of his face, or, for some godforsaken reason, doing his eyebrows. he was a much gentler, more lenient man since falling in love with the likes of you.

"stop staring at me like that," you laugh, having the audacity to sound sheepish, as if you weren't literally the prettiest person on the damn planet.

dean pushes off of the doorframe to cross the distance between the both of you. once he was close enough, your hands came up to rest on his cheeks, smushing them between your soft palms.

"like what?" he manages to mumble through it.

you lean down to kiss the tip of his nose. dean absolutely does not blush at that, either, shut up. "like you love me or something crazy like that."

"oh, can't love my wife now?" hard to speak through your light hold. easy to argue about loving you.

your hands fall to his, bending at the knee to try and haul his ass up onto the bed, too. "love me from up here." you somehow have even less balance, now, as you step backwards to make room for him on the king-sized bed, and his hand falls to your waist to steady you. "well, isn't this just the rom-com scene of the century."

dean snorts, taking your other hand into his to mimic the stance of your first dance, earlier that evening. "only you would have me dancin' on top of a bed." he pauses, shrugging lightly. "only you would have me dancin' at all."

your smile is wide and knowing. of course it is. he's not kept it a very good secret that you've got him going molten and soft, just for you.

there's no music. no sound at all beyond the hum of the air conditioner and the occasional traffic outside. even the sounds of the other hotel room doors opening and closing seems quieter here, in this moment with you. so he dances with you, keeps you upright on your feet, and doesn't seem to mind at all that this night doesn't seem to have an end in sight.

"told you the bed was nice," you say idly, just as he lowers you into a dip.

dean holds you there for a little bit of time, taking those few seconds to rake his eyes over the pristine white bedspread, and the mountain of pillows. pillows would be on the floor come morning time. sheets and blankets would be wrinkled to all hell. "not a single stain in sight," he agrees, lifting you back up to clutch you to his chest in an embrace, "wanna change that?"

"dean!" you try to scold but laugh instead, your palm flattening on his chest, curling into the white button-up's fabric. "shut up."

"what? it's a rite of passage for hotel sheets."

there's not a denial to follow, so dean breaks into a toothy, shit-eating grin.

"i think it's a great first thing to do, too, with these new wife and husband titles," he hums, mostly to himself, since you aren't arguing with him anymore.

you lift the veil off of your head and settle it on top of his, and dean really is a goddamn sucker now, because he even leans down to make it easier for you to reach. "okay," you sigh, as if you're resigning yourself to the inevitable, your mouth brushing his in a chaste kiss, "on one condition."

dean chases your mouth for a couple of more kisses, while he's got you so close. "and what's that, angel?"

you tug on the end of the veil on his head, now wearing a shit-eating grin of your own. "veil stays on during sex."

maybe he'd married a little weirdo, too.

notes. literally saw this gif on pinterest and immediately had to write something wedding related for my pookie wookie. <3

tags. @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4jackles @deansbite @whisperingwillowxox @bombarda-babe @whyyouegg @bluemerakis @loverslantern @bitchykittenconnoisseur @jensenacklesantidote @keira-kaz2y5 @sthefferrete @depressionbarbie2023 @honeyryewhiskey @ultravi0lence14 @bleuatlas @minettacreekk @moonstruksandco @moodyquesadilla @severe-mental-illness @gibson-g1rl @deansbeer @bluestrd @mccartneyqp @im-bili @chevroletdean @angelblqde @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @momoewn @globetrotter28 @starzify @florchids @ryngzmn @aileenunfiltered @beausling @frosttbitessam @amberlthomas

[maiiuelle]

the hunt

based on this post.. literally could not get this out of my head. nobody can do crazy like my man.

warnings: minors dni!! dom!rafe, chasing, pred/prey dynamic, basically breath and impact play

under different circumstances, you wouldn’t be caught dead knee-deep in the muddy swampland of the cut. but, you can’t stop moving now, the purr of rafe’s truck is growing to a roar behind you.

⊹₊⟡⋆

your legs are burning, and covered in mud and cuts from tree branches grazing by your delicate skin. you don’t know how long you’ve been running, long enough for your lungs to ache so painfully you could surrender.

you almost consider it until you realize what kind of punishment he must have waiting for you. you were bad. rafe is the cruelest man you know, and knowing that, you’d never disobeyed him in fear of how he’d react. until today.

your chest heaves as you push to keep running, each step onto the soft ground is pronounced with more dirt splattering your thighs. for a moment, you think he’s lost you, until a pair of bright LED headlights shine past your head and into your view.

he’s too close, the blood chilling rumble of his truck is approaching fast and the pain throbbing throughout your body is becoming too unbearable to keep going. you veer off of your course, weaving through trees until you find one with a thick enough trunk to hide behind. you slam your back into the wood, chest heaving as you lower yourself to a squat. you press a hand to your chest, desperately trying to catch your breath. the wheezing will only give you away.

you hear his truck stop, the humming of the engine fades out and the door slams, your whole body lurches against the rough tree bark.

rafe whistles. “babe!” he chides, the smirk on his lips clear through his voice. he’s enjoying this. “don’t play this game with me, alright? you know i saw you.”

your heart thumps in your ears, the pitter-patter taking over your senses as you try to think of what to do, but your body is frozen. whether it be from exhaustion, or fear, you’re paralyzed on the root rippled ground.

he may be having a good time chasing you around, but he’s growing impatient by the minute. “you’re really gonna make me come get you? gonna make this more difficult for yourself? huh?” the irritation lining his voice turns your stomach. you’re done for.

“what? you just wanna piss me off a little more, is that it? you like getting on my fuckin’ nerves?” he rants, twigs snapping under his feet as he stalks closer. “you’re a brat!”

you cover your mouth and suck in fresh air through your nose, the overwhelming scent of soil and swamp water fills your senses, only the unnatural sweet aroma of rafe’s luxury cologne suddenly catches in the soft breeze. before the panic can set in, a rough hand grabs your arm and pulls you to a stand, but you trip over your legs in shock and you fall right into your boyfriends chest. your face is met with the cold material of his golfing polo, one of his favorites, only now it’s stained with soot along with the rest of his expensive clothing.

“no, no! rafe!” you begin to plead, feeling guilty about what you’d done, and running. he pushes you off of him, his strong hands controlling your movements as he turns you at his will, holding you with his grip settled on your arms, using the leverage to hoist you up and over his shoulder like you’re nothing. “rafe, stop!” you hang limply, his arm coming to hold you down like he’s carrying a bundle of logs, only he holds your arms tight against your torso. with your arms trapped, and your legs already growing sore, you have no chance of escape.

rafe just scoffs, stomping through the wood back to his parked pick-up. “don’t beg now — like i didn’t just chase you down through the entire goddamn cut. you deserve what you’re gonna fucking get, know that.” he grits, and you whine out a strained cry.

once he reaches the truck, he rounds the passenger side and flicks the back door open. “y’know, at this point i’d at least expect an apology.” without warning, he bucks forward and throws you on your back onto the leather back seat. you stare up at him like a spooked doe, eyes wide as you finally get a good look at him. like you, he’s covered head to toe in mud. his sweaty bangs hang messily over his forehead as he looks down on you, nostrils flaring as his eyes watch your stiffened frame expectantly. “i’d start with ‘i’m so sorry, rafey!’” he teases, his thick finger suddenly coming up to hook under the waistband of your skirt. he invades your space, tall enough to hover over you even though he’s still standing outside of the truck. he gets so close your hands instinctively come up to brace yourself, they ball up in his stained shirt in fear, but you hold onto the slight hope he’ll have some sort of mercy on you.

“rafe — rafe, i am sorry! i just — i was..” you cry, only he smacks his other heavy hand over your mouth before you can get far. even doing what he says, he grows even angrier. he’s completely unpredictable.

“shut the fuck up!” rafe shouts, his hand on your waistband adjusts and he grabs your waist, his grip bruising. “you wanna apologize? yeah?” he pushes, and when you nod he helps you along with his palm over your mouth. “good girl. that’s it.”

warmth spreads through your stomach, pulsing in slow waves as his warm fingers trail up your torso to your tit to palm it gently like a stress ball. his eyes outline your body, while yours stay on his face, watching him take in his prey. it’s odd, you’re terrified and yet so eager to be splayed out in front of him like this.

“fuck.” he groans, the hand on your mouth pivots to your jaw, positioning your head upward to meet his lips. they crash into yours, and you’re desperate to reciprocate, grasping for any affection from him. he breaks to push his forehead into yours, hands suddenly occupied with prying off his mud-caked belt. “take ‘em off, come on.” rafe urges under his breath, clearly running low on patience. in part due to your own mounting desire, you shuffle to push your tennis skirt and panties down to your knees.

rafe forces down his shorts just enough to free himself, eyes raking over you. impatiently, he rips your bottoms right off your legs, balling them up in his palm and chucking them deeper into the backseat before he resumes ravishing you. he’s pinned you to the leather seat with the weight of his body, pressing against you as he forces his lips into yours. the animalistic, hungry way he’s handling you is delicious. your core is throbbing hot against the cold outdoor air, his cock smooths over your thigh, and your head goes blank. you can’t wait any longer to feel him push inside of you. the fear and distress you’d been filled with before has melted completely into submission.

he lifts himself up, one hand coming to position himself at your entrance, and the other pushes your fitted cropped t-shirt up over your tits. he pauses, slotting his tip between your folds, mindlessly making you shudder in need. rafe couldn’t care, he’s taking his time now, too focused on playing with your tits with his free hand, watching them peak through his fingers. imagining what he could do to you. “god, you are so fucking lucky i love you.”

his hips come flush with yours as he plunges into you. your satisfied scream is immediately muffled by his hand coming back to its place over your lips, the force pins your head to the seat.

rafe rocks into you slowly, but with a force that pushes your limp body up the seat with every thrust. you’re so full, it’s intoxicating. you’re taken over by the feeling of him, you close your eyes so there isn’t anything but him, how he’s making you feel. your hands come to claw at his arm, even in your state, you’re desperate to breathe through the hand that’s covering your mouth and shifting over your nose. he’s completely entranced, watching himself disappear inside of you over and over again. he deserved this after all you’d put him through.

but, it’s not enough. his snapping movements are slowly pushing you away, and his frustration swells. “fuck.. fuck!” rafe growls, moving both arms to wrap around your muddy thighs, hooking underneath to pull you impossibly closer to him. your ass is completely hanging off the back seat now, suspended in mid-air held up completely by him. you take the chance to sit up on your elbows, peeking down to where your bodies meet. it’s so overwhelming, you rush to catch your breath, but it’s impossible with the unrelenting pace he’s setting. your poor lungs burn as your throat forces out strangled moans, the stretch of him inside of you feels too good to stay quiet. the sound of your skin smacking together fills the truck, beautifully conjoined with the pretty sounds he’s pulling from you. “yeah, yeah. is this what you wanted?” rafe looks at your fucked out face, your lashes fluttering as you try to keep yourself together. “fucking say it.”

“just wanted you, rafe!” you whine, your pussy pulsing around him as a wave of heat spreads through your abdomen. a moan rips from you, he knows you’re about to burst, and he’s feeling mean.

rafe’s hips smack against yours, punctuating his assault with a hard chap before he completely unsheathes himself. you’re brave enough to pout, crumbling with a whine as you clench around nothing. he grabs your jaw, forcing your attention. “you do some stupid shit like that again, i’m leaving you with the gators.”

and with that, rafe stands up straight, shifting his shorts back into place and stuffing himself inside. once he’s sorted, he plants a hand on the fat of your thigh and shoves you inside. without sparing you a glance, he runs his hand down his face, looking behind his truck to surveil the surrounding woods. he slams the back door, leaving you to stare at the leather interior bewildered. rafe reappears, tugging open the drivers side door, hauling himself inside and bringing the truck’s engine back to life. rafe doesn’t say a word to you as he drives you back to tannyhill, too busy plotting how he’s going to finish you off when you get there.

⊹₊⟡⋆

[earlysunshines]

secret rhymes - 39. victorian child (half-written)

a/n: fun fact i have been sick for the past WEEK. my voice has been so so so raspy and dead and i literally sound like im gonna die and or smoked thirty packs of cigs AND im also coughing like a bitch. yeah. ik a bowl of congee HATES to see me coming (I made a whole pot... i finished that pot in less than two days...)

hanni shuffles a bit and groans, stirring weakly beneath the covers. you’re worried that the rag in her forehead might slip off, so you hold it in place as she groggily blinks.

“what…” she nearly croaks. “i’m gonna be… late…”

“han, it’s okay. the rest of your group talked to the managers and called me here. i’ll take care of you for now, okay?”

“hyein?” hanni questions, pulling her blanket closer.

“…close?” you nearly chuckle.

“yunjin is that—“ hanni finally opens her eyes fully, taking in the sight of you—half amused and half worried—staring down at her. her eyes widen slightly. “y-y/n? what are you—“

“you’re burning up. you have a really high fever, one-o-one.” you sigh, looking at her with pity. “everyone was worried sick.”

“one hundred one degrees? how is that even possible—“

“—fahrenheit. you're not dead yet, don't worry.”

her face is already flushed from her fever, but when she fully registers you—the slight scrunch of worry in your brow, your hair cutely clipped behind your ears, and the loose koala graphic t-shirt you have on—her face is even more flushed under the cloth.

she can barely react, too exhausted and feverish to do anything more than stare and breath. she closes her eyes then, defeated, and sinks deeper into the bed.

meanwhile, you sit beside her, adjusting the cool compress on her forehead that slipped off while she had woken up. her skin is burning up, her breathing slow and heavy, and the way she barely stirs at your touch only makes your concern deepen.

the rest of her members had left her in your care, all of them thanking you like you had saved their lives.

("you're the best, seriously." minji says as she hugs you tight, pulling away and patting you on your shoulder. "I wasn't sure what we would've done... this album is really important and especially the song we have to record today."

"it's nothing." you say casually. "i feel bad that hanni can't go and record with you guys, but i feel even worse because she seems pretty unwell."

hyein gives you one last big hug, and then the rest of the group joins in to trap you. you giggle and hug them back, surprised and amused by the gratitude of the situation.

"i'm sorry for calling you so suddenly, you seemed really tired." hyein mumbles.

when she called you at nine in the morning (five minutes after you had to fight to wake up) you were more than just tired. an unknown caller id called you three times, the same amount of times it took you to respond with slight annoyance until you heard the familiar voice and realized it was hyein calling.

"it's fine." you respond, because after figuring out that you had to wake up for hanni, it was more than fine. "I'll take good care of her, thank you for trusting me with her and also with... uh, being in your dorm."

danielle shakes her head, then smiles. "after hearing about hanni talk about you so much and meeting you in person; you're very much welcome in our dorm anytime."

you smile even wider at that comment before ushering everyone out. "okay, go, go. i know how recording's can be, and how the schedules are, so go. i don't want you guys to get in trouble or anything." you urge. before they leave, they make sure to give you all their contact information to give and receive updates.)

you glance at your phone to see no messages from any of them, then back at hanni, watching as her lips part slightly with a soft breath. you sigh, adjusting the blanket so it sits over her shoulder before shifting to sit on the floor beside her bed, your back against the frame. it's quiet, other than the faint hum of the heater, occasional rustle of the sheets, and soft groans as she shifts slightly in her fevered sleep.

every few minutes you reach up to check the cloth, replacing it with a freshly dampened one and alternating between the two cloths four times. you don't mind waiting—watching over her like this, making sure she's okay.

and even though hanni is barely conscious, barely functional to form a thought through her exhaustion, she notices the way you linger and the feeling of the temperature on her forehead changing here and there. she notices every quiet action showing that you care.

—

a little over thirty minutes pass and you switch the rag on hanni's forehead one last time, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her damp skin before standing up. she barely moves, lost in her sleep, but you hesitate for a second before deciding to head out to the kitchen.

"i'll be back, han." you say softly, placing your hand on her shoulder.

the dorm is quiet, save for the occasional hum of the city outside. you roll up your sleeves as you get to the kitchen and unpack your tote bag, taking out each ingredient carefully. you begin chopping ginger, mushrooms, garlic, and pre-cooked chicken—staples for the congee you're making. the sound of the knife against the cutting board fills the space as you work, focused yet extremely mindful of who's resting in the other room.

fifteen more minutes pass and you've already started boiling the rice with your chopped ingredients. you're nearly done as is. suddenly, you hear soft, unsteady footsteps and turn, catching hanni in your sight as she emerges out from the hall.

she's wrapped in a crewneck and blanket draped over her shoulders, her eyes still heavy with exhaustion. she blinks at you, sluggish and dazed, before speaking tiredly,

"y/n, you… why are you... here?"

you immediately lower the heat and rush over to hanni, your hands hovering uncertainly between steadying her shoulders or guiding her back to bed.

she tilts her head slightly, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

"you didn't answer me." hanni mumbles, giving in and leaning against you to support herself. "how did you even... get here?"

"you're going to pass out, you should've stayed in your room." you sigh, guiding her toward the couch gently. "hyein called me. she said you were sick, and I was worried." you adjust the blanket around her as she settles into the cushions, still looking up at you with something unreadable in her expression. "I came as soon as she called."

"but—"

"no." you interrupt, kneeling in front of her to get her comfy. "I only have a few online things for a class, so don't worry. i basically have a free day, why not spend it on you? just focus on getting better, han."

hanni doesn't argue. she just watches as you stand and return to the kitchen, resuming your work.

the warm scent of whatever it is that you're cooking fills the air while you season further. hanni pulls the blanket tighter around herself, gaze locked onto your back as you move. the way you check on her between stirring the pot, the way your brows knit while adding a few more mushrooms—it's like you were made to do this, to care and be attentive to even the smallest things.

something tugs at hanni's heart.

once the congee is finished, you ladle some into a bowl, letting the steam rise before setting it on the counter to cool. you run to hanni's room to grab the bowl with damp rags and return to her side, setting it on the coffee table as you sit next to her. you place the rag on her head against and she lets out a small sigh at the cool relief, her eyes barely open as she looks at you.

"the food is still hot," you murmur, reaching out instinctively. your hand finds its way to her cheek, brushing against her heated skin as you check her temperature.

hanni leans into your touch. it's barely a movement—soft, fleeting, and she probably isn't aware of it either—but you feel it like a spark. the warmth of her skin lingers against your palm longer than it should and your thumb brushes against her on its own. you swallow, but she doesn't seem to notice, too tired to register the weight of the moment.

you drop your hand after a second and she turns her head slightly on the couch, still watching you through drowsy eyes.

"thank you," she mumbles. "really... you didn't.. have to.. have to do all this."

you shake your head, leaning back slightly and meeting her with the same look she has in her eyes. "it's nothing."

"no, but i mean it," she insists, her voice barely above a whisper. "you took..." she breathes in slowly, sinking deeper into her blanket before continuing, "time out of your day just to come all the way here—to take care of me."

you let out a small laugh, shrugging. "well, you're a friend I care a lot about."

hanni blinks, something unreadable flickering in her tired eyes before she lets out a quiet hum. "i— thank you. I'm glad we're... friends."

you don't know how to respond to that. the way she says it feels like there's something more beneath the surface, but she's also terribly sick so you could just be overthinking everything. before you can dwell on it further, hanni shifts, resting her head against the couch.

"lucky me." she says softly, already halfway to sleep.

you exhale, watching as her breathing starts to even and her blinking get slower. "right," you start, "you have to eat something. i think it should be cooled." you look away from her, breaking the tension filled with something uncertain but not unwelcome.

hanni watches you grab the bowl and sit up, scooping a small bite and blowing on it a few times before holding the spoon towards her. she hesitates before finally parting her lips, eating without a complaint despite being sluggish.

"good?" you ask quietly.

she nods, chewing slowly. "mhm. you're a good cook."

"i know," you tease, earning a weak chuckle from her.

you bring up another spoonful, but before she takes it, you notice a bit of rice stuck at the corner of her lips. without thinking, you reach forward, brushing it away with your thumb.

hanni stills. her eyes flick up to yours, surprised, but she doesn't pull back. neither do you.

"you're being extra nice today," hanni mutters, voice tinged with something unreadable.

you huff a small laugh, reaching for a cup of warm water. "you're sick, hanni. what kind of person would I be if I wasn't?"

she lets you tilt her chin up slightly even when it earns a weird turn in her stomach. she also lets you assist her in sipping the water, wiping away at the drop that rolls down to her chin.

"i, uh, um. there was this, um, time." you start nervously, trying to break the dreadful tension in the air. "my friend back in new york, he... he got sick and his parents were away. i had to take care of him like this. so don't worry about... me taking care of you. it's nothing. i just want you to be okay hanni."

"you're lovely, y/n." hanni sounds and looks drunk with a mix of just completely tired. it's almost amusing how cute she looks.

for the next hour you sit beside her and finish some assignments on your laptop. every so often you glance her way, checking her temperature and switching out the rags. hanni doesn't say much, just watches you everytime she wakes up, eyes flickering between your hands on the keyboard and the quiet concentration on your face.

"i feel a lot better now," she finally says, breaking the silence and halting your typing.

you glance at her and smile. "yeah?"

she hums in confirmation, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep starts to take over.

hanni motions for you to scoot over, and if this were any of your other friends you'd tell them to back off because of their sickness—with hanni, you shift closer. and then she leans on you a bit, the weight of her head pushing against your arm. you don't say anything else, just watch as she drifts off, her features relaxed, her breathing soft and even.

she looks peaceful—so pretty even while she's overheating and feverish.

carefully—without moving your arm—you reach for the rag again, switching it out for a colder one. you do it over and over, making sure she's comfortable. even though the room is quiet, and even though she's asleep; you don't feel alone.

if anything, you feel closer than before. your heart can't decide if it likes the feeling or not.

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[fandom-imagines-stories]

Tell Me a Lie

Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 4617

Summary: Months of hell lead you to one moment- finding out your boyfriend is really alive. After figuring out where he’s been hiding, you concoct a plan- a very stupid, very dangerous plan- to draw him out. 

Notes: This is a terrible summary, but whatever. I finally started season three and I thought putting the reader in this situation would be really interesting. Obviously, his relationship with Elektra wasn’t the same, but the whole self-destructive Matthew is here and ready for angst. I’m imagining this kinda between the episodes where Matt goes to the hotel and the prison, but doesn’t really follow the plot of the episodes, just my own. This is also just a mess, but oh well. (And I know this is kind of what Bella does in New Moon, but I kind of dig it so I won’t apologize haha)

Warnings: Attempted assault, violence, abandonment, alcoholism literally looking for danger (obviously, spoilers for season three)

More Matt Imagines: HERE

-

It didn’t smell like him anymore. Such a weird, stupid complaint, but it made you sick to your stomach to breathe in the musty air of the apartment. 

You sat up, nursing your head in your hand, still pounding from the night before. Not that you’d slept, but hangovers still found a way to bite you in the ass. It was getting pathetic. Not that you cared. And not that your friends had actually used that word. 

‘Concerning’ was Foggy’s favorite. 

He could have his concern. 

You chased the numb. 

Anything was better than remembering he wasn’t here and the apartment you’d just started to share didn’t smell like him anymore. 

You got out of bed on shaking limbs, feeling the nausea roll over you. You swayed, wondering if you’d throw up again. You didn’t. 

You went to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee to pull you out of the haze. Karen and Foggy were coming by today to talk about rent. You had to seem at least somewhat put together or they would try and talk you into getting help. Getting help meant moving on. Moving on meant giving up. Giving up meant lying to yourself. Admitting that he was dead and he wasn’t coming back. 

But Matt Murdock wasn’t dead. 

You could feel it. 

The pounding at the door felt like knocking on your skull. You groaned. 

Foggy stepped inside. 

“Morning,” he greeted with his usual chipper smile. 

You didn’t understand it. How he could still seem so happy after everything that happened. Then again, things went rather well for him after…

You shook the thoughts from your head. This wasn’t Foggy’s fault. 

“Hey,” you croaked. You took a long, burning drink from your caffeinated cup and let its effects wash over you. “I thought you two were coming together?” 

“Karen had… other stuff.” Foggy peaked around the corner, plastering a smile across his face. He figured he’d ease into the news. Especially because you looked- well- you looked the way you usually did these past few weeks. “But she says hi.” 

You nodded and took another drink. “Coffee?” 

“I already had some, thanks.” 

He stood silently. 

You stood silently. You raised a brow. “You can sit down, Foggy.” 

“Right. Thanks.” He nodded awkwardly and took a seat on the couch. So much for playing it cool. 

You set your mug to the side and leaned on the counter, fingers gripping the edge like a lifeline. 

“What happened, Foggy?” You stared at the back of his head and felt that familiar squeezing, wrenching breathlessness in your chest. The same feeling when Claire dragged you out of Midland Circle. The same feeling when you watched the building fall. The same feeling when Matt didn’t walk out. “Is it… is it Matt? Did they find him?” 

“No, it’s not about-” He blew out a sigh. “God, you haven’t seen the news then?” 

You hurried around to stand in front of him, panic still evident in your exhausted eyes.

Foggy had to look away. 

“Why, what’s on the news?” 

He gulped. “Maybe you should sit down.” 

“Just tell me what happened,” you scoffed. The sound came out as a nervous laugh, but on the inside, you were screaming. 

His blue eyes met yours. 

“Wilson Fisk made a deal with the feds. He’s out of prison.” 

You blinked. The crushing in your chest was replaced by your heart stopping. 

“What?” You choked out. Of all the things you were expected to hear, Fisk’s name wasn’t one of them. 

“Well, not out exactly. He’s apparently giving them information that’s made him a target in his old prison so they’re keeping him in a cushy penthouse for ‘safety purposes.’” He spat each word out. 

You put a hand on the back of the chair for support. “Fisk is free?” 

“Like I said, he isn’t free, but-”

You held up a hand to stop him.“Where’s this hotel?” 

-

The courtyard was absolute mayhem. Reporters scurried in every direction, each harassing a different agent for information they wouldn’t get. Matt dodged in between them. The noise made his still recovering head pound, but he could still pick out enough to get through. He ducked his head when he heard Karen’s voice, a small moment of panic almost making him turn around. 

He kept moving. 

The crowds didn’t surprise you. And neither did seeing the familiar blonde head weaving through the groups with determined strides. You hurried after her, almost bumping into the man in front of you, but he stepped out of the way just in time. 

“Karen!” You called. 

Gold strands whipped around. Her clear blue stare cut through the crowd. 

“Y/N?” She said, pushing through to you. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“So it’s true.” You tilted your head to the top of the building, its windows reflecting the sun in blinding brightness. “Wilson Fisk is up there?” 

She sighed. “Foggy told you then?” 

“If you’re planning on an ‘it isn’t safe for you to be here’ speech, save it,” you snapped. “I could tell you the same thing.” 

She bit her cheek, looked you over, and determined you looked sober enough. “Alright, follow me.” 

Matt couldn’t move. He tried to force his feet forward, but the heavy beating of his heart filled his ears and made it impossible to navigate the space around him. 

Your voice. Your scent. Even your heartbeat stood out amongst the dozens of people there. And for a moment, just a moment, he wanted to turn around. 

“Promise me we’ll go on that trip we talked about, yeah?” You laughed, though the air was salty with your tears and your voice shook. He kissed your lips for the last time.

“I promise.” 

But that wasn’t what haunted Matt for the last few months. Your sweet words of promise and hope stung, but they weren’t what kept him from going to you. Your screams were. 

“Let me go! Matt! No! Matty! I won’t leave him! Matt!” Even with countless floors between, Matt could hear your gut-wrenching screams as the others dragged you out of the building just before it blew. “Matt! Please! Matt!”

“Matt?” 

It took him a moment to realize that your voice now wasn’t from his memory. It was now.

You’d seen him. But judging by the direction, there was a chance you hadn’t seen his face. He could ignore you and chances were, you’d think you were crazy. Just another offense he’d committed against you. 

He wanted to turn around, to hold you and kiss your lips again and tell you he was okay and everything was going to be okay. That he was still your Matt. 

But the man you fell in love with was gone. He was buried under Midland Circle. 

Matt kept walking. 

-

You’d seen him. As crazy as it was, you knew it was him. He’d heard you. He must have because he stopped- just for a second, but he stopped. Karen may not have believed you, though you could tell she wanted to, but it didn’t matter. 

It was Matt. 

Somehow, it didn’t make any sense but it all made sense at the same time. He was going after Fisk. Of course, he was. Not even the grave couldn't stop your Matt from protecting his city. From protecting you. 

What you didn’t understand is why he kept walking. He acted like you weren’t there, but he of all people couldn’t have simply not noticed you. He’d left you there on purpose. 

He’d left you.

You paced the apartment with your hands raking through your hair with one question on your mind. 

Why? 

Sure, Matt would always use the excuse of protecting you before, but this time felt different. Had you done something? Had you not done enough at Midland Circle? What happened to him? 

Was it your fault?

The explosion was your idea and it buried him. Did he blame you as much as you blamed yourself?

Your feet halted in front of the closet door. Behind the door was a box. Inside the box was the emptiness that haunted your every waking moment for the past you didn’t even know how many days anymore. Your fingers clutched at the neck of the bottle on the table. The drink burned. 

None of it mattered. ‘Why’ didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was out there and he left you and as the burn raced down your throat you knew what you needed to do. 

And you knew where he might be.

-

The gentleness of your touch eased the sting of the disinfectant as you dabbed it on his wounds. It wasn’t the first night he’d come back cut and beaten, but you didn’t let your worry deter your movements. He came back. That’s what mattered. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, your voice as soft as your motions. You touched a particularly sore spot and he winced. As you went to draw your hand away, he caught it in his, fingers grasping at yours, still clenched around the towel. 

“Can we just… sit for a while?” He breathed. 

You nodded. He wiped away any blood remaining on his skin and set the towel aside. His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you to his chest. He listened to your heartbeat. You listened to his. 

Matt remembered the woman he’d come across earlier that night. Two men had jumped her. They were going to take what they wanted and leave her for dead. He’d taken his time beating them senseless while she got away. But her screams still echoed through his head. 

He tensed beneath you and you looked up at him through your lashes. 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing.”

You sat up. “Matt.” 

“It’s nothing,” he managed a laugh. “Really. Just come here.” He coaxed you back to him, but the tension was still there. He breathed in your presence and let out a low sigh. His arms tightened around you. “I’d never let anything happen to you.” His tone was different. Almost afraid. 

You drew lines on his chest. “I know.” 

“And I’d never hurt you, or at least mean to, anyway, but I know that I have and I’m-”

“Matty.” You crawled up so you were beside him, taking his face in your hands. “All I ask is that you come home at the end of the night.” You kissed his cheek. “In one piece, preferably.” He chuckled and you pressed your lips to his. You whispered in between kisses. “Just come home.” 

-

He talked about this place sometimes. Not often. Getting Matt to open up about his childhood was like pulling teeth, but in those last few months together, he’d started to trust you enough to let you in. 

This felt like a betrayal of that. Using your knowledge to expose him. To confront him for leaving you behind. A sober you might have thought of that. But the whiskey-fueled your anger, the rum your despair, and everything else blocked out any logical thought. 

What was the word Foggy used? 

Right. 

Concerning.

“Alright, Matthew,” you called out. Your voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper as you tried to hold back sobs. The wind stung the streaks of tears on your cheeks, but the more you tried to wipe them away, the more they fell. You took a drink. “This is it. Now or never.” 

You waited. You gave him a chance to stop you. 

“You always said you would never let anything happen to me, right? That you’d never hurt me.” You held your arms out at your sides. “Well, here we are, you goddamn liar!” Your voice echoed through the street. He would have been able to hear you for blocks, but standing just outside his damn door had to be good enough. “Come out, Matt!”

“Dude, check out this crazy bitch,” a voice said from behind you. 

Your stomach flipped. You swallowed the nervous bile in your throat. This was part of the plan. Sure, you thought you’d have to do a little more seeking, but this worked even better. There was only one way your tangled-up mind could figure that would get Daredevil to come out to play. You just hoped he would bring your Matt with him. 

You turned around. Two men stood in front of you, both of them with eyes scanning your body and lips forming smirks. Oh yeah. They were perfect. 

“What did you just say to me?” You tried to make your voice sound more confident than you actually felt. You wanted their anger, not their pity. 

“Hey, no need to be like that, I was just kidding,” the taller one said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. “I was just about to tell my buddy that you look a little lost.”

“Yeah, maybe she could use our help,” his friend agreed. “Do you want our help?” From the sound of his tone ‘help’ was the last thing he was offering. 

They both stepped towards you. 

And then a thought broke through your intoxicated, reckless mind. 

What if Matt really was dead?

It made you freeze. It almost made you sober. 

What if you just saw some guy that looked like him? What if you’d imagined it all together? What if all this time you’d been hoping- hell, even praying- that he would come back and he was still down there, at the bottom of Midland Circle, crushed and bloody and… gone? 

The men took another step forward, looking equally confused as they were intrigued. 

What if there was no one around to save you?

You held your head high. 

You hoped they’d kill you.

Either way, at least you would know. 

“You alright there, sweetheart?” The tall one asked. Sweetheart. The word stung. It belonged to someone else. 

You didn’t say anything and just started swinging. Fist to teeth, then foot against knee, you actually managed to do some damage before the friend grabbed your arms from behind. You stomped on his foot as hard as you could. Just because this was part of your plan didn’t mean you were going to make it easy for them. It had to at least look like you tried. For Foggy and Karen. 

The thought of the two of them threw you off. It made you blink, which allowed the lead prick to get a hold of your hair and use it to throw you to the ground. 

“You wanna play it that way, fine,” he growled. 

“Hair pulling?” You sneered up at him. “What, did your little sister teach you that move?” 

“Mouthy little bitch.” He brought his heel down on your head. Hard. It probably should have knocked you out, but you could still see through blurred vision with darkness around the edges. They started to walk away. 

“W-wait,” you said. The feet at the edge of your vision stopped. “Wait, come here.” You beckoned him to you with your hand. He crouched down. “Is that all you’ve got, pussy?” 

The hit came faster than you prepared for, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He kicked. And kicked. And kicked. Blood filled your mouth. You thought you heard a knife click open, but then everything went silent. 

And there was only one pair of feet.

A grunt. A thud. A body hitting the pavement. 

“What the…” Your main assailant gasped.  

You blinked, trying to see what was going on.

“Hey, man, she started it, I swear.” Another grunt. Another thud. Another body hit the pavement. 

A masked face appeared over yours.  

You smiled through the pain. “I knew it.” 

He took off the black band, revealing his panicked face. It was the last thing you saw before the darkness in your head took over. 

-

Matt carried you downstairs, every sense tuned into the creaking of your broken ribs, the smell of the blood leaking from your lips, your head, your nose. He focused on the sound of your heart. It was still beating. 

It was still beating.

“Sister!” He called. 

Sister Maggie, in all her wise-cracking wisdom, had known to be there. Matt didn’t know how, but not for the first time he was grateful for her presence. She helped without him having to ask. 

“Is she breathing?” She asked. 

“Barely. Her ribs are broken. I-I can’t tell how hard she hit her head.” He laid you on the bed, still listening to the semi-steady thump thump, thump thump. 

“Who is she?” 

He didn’t answer. Instead, his hands roamed your features, the gentle curve of your cheek now split with a bleeding gash. He ran a finger over your lips. As if to confirm it was really you. He had to feel, had to know. Know that this was his fault. Your words echoed in his head. 

You’d never hurt me.

You goddamn liar. 

You were here for him. The reckoning for his sins these past weeks. 

“Matthew, who is she?” Margaret pressed again. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped. “Just help her.” Matt’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Please.”

Sister Maggie frowned, fingers clenched around the cloth she’d used to clean some of the blood. “You need to take her to a hospital.”

“Don’t.” Your voice rasped between them. “Don’t you dare.” You started to sit up, using shaking arms to push yourself upright even as your insides felt like they wanted to rip out of you just from breathing. 

“Stay down,” Matt said. He sat on the edge of the bed, easing you back to a lying position. “Try not to move.”

“I knew it.” 

“Y/N-”

“I fucking knew it.” You pushed back. He was stronger. Matt kept you down as gently as he could. 

“Sister, will you give us a minute?”

You turned to the woman you hadn’t noticed. She seemed glad to leave. 

Matt didn’t face you. He stood up from the bed and paced along the concrete floor, keeping a distance away that made you want to scream. You wanted to touch him. To make sure he was really there. But he hovered away from you like a ghost. 

“Those guys really did a number, huh?” You managed to sit up and this time, he didn’t stop you. Your head, however, wanted to bash itself in. Between the trauma and the liquor, you weren’t sure which made you more nauseous. “But the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is always around to save the day.”

“You did it on purpose,” Matt said, shoulders stiff. “You provoked them. They could have killed you and you-” He sucked in a breath. “Why?”

“I’m an adrenaline junkie. I drink, I look for trouble. It’s becoming quite the hobby.” You were lying. You knew he could tell. 

He stood still, head tilting slightly. “You knew I’d come.” 

“Ding ding ding.” You fell back on the bed and let the ceiling spin. 

Matt couldn’t speak. The panic he’d felt was slowly being engulfed by anger, though it was hard to tell at who. You were looking for a fight, that much he gathered was true. You were drunk, though the fight sobered you up some. Everything he’d ever told you, everything he’d done to try and keep you safe, would have been thrown away tonight. You would have let those men kill you if it meant he wasn’t there. 

And it was all his fault. 

He did the one thing he promised he wouldn't. He left. You’d never judged him, never questioned his need to put on the suit. All you ever asked was that he come back to you and this time, he didn’t. By choice, he didn’t. Just like everyone in both of your pasts, he abandoned you. This was your choice to get back at him, whether or not you believed he was alive. 

“I saw you,” you said quietly. “Today, at the hotel. I knew it was you.” The sure, stubbornness in your voice was gone, replaced by a cracking, wrenching sadness. “I had to know.” 

Matt didn’t say anything. He just reached for the lamp and switched off the light. 

“Get some rest.” 

When you woke up, you were in the hospital, bandages on your cuts, and more hungover than you’d felt in a long time. 

Matt was gone. 

-

They didn’t discharge you, but you left anyway. If they looked too closely at your emergency contacts, they’d find someone who was supposed to be dead and Karen. The latter was not someone you wanted to face right now. 

So, with a couple of busted ribs and one hell of a concussion, you went back to the apartment. His apartment. The place where he first kissed you, first touched you, first-

Now it was just yours. He didn’t want it anymore. 

You half debated going back to the church and demanding he talk to you. You’d like to see the brilliant lawyer try to talk his way out of this one. But in the end, everything hurt too much to face him. You wanted a drink. 

Unlocking the door, the click hit your chest harder than any of that creep’s kicks. 

You knew. 

You may not have had his abilities, but you knew. 

Walking in, you didn’t dare turn around and look at the stairs. You didn’t have to. 

“I’m all better now if that’s what you wanted to see,” you said. You threw your jacket on the floor and kicked off your boots. 

Matt didn’t move from his place by the roof entrance. He stood over you like a judgemental god and you wanted to hit him for it. You might have if he didn’t already look like hell itself spat him back out. 

“You wanted them to kill you,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear. Not an accusation. An acknowledgment. 

“I wasn’t going to stop them if they tried.” You shrugged. You moved to the kitchen. “Beer?” 

“You shouldn’t drink with the amount of pain medication they gave you.” He said it so matter-of-factly. Like he was just your boyfriend and looking out for you. But he wasn’t and you didn’t know what he was to you anymore. 

“Yeah, well, it’s going to wear off at some point so I might as well get ahead of the curve here.” 

“Y/N-” He stepped. The steps creaked. 

“Don’t.” You held up a hand. “Don’t come anywhere near me, Matt Murdock.” 

He flinched at the sound of his name like it was a blade you held against his throat. 

“Stay where you are,” you said and twisted off the bottle top, grasping so hard the rigid edge dug into your palm. “Shit.” It sliced your skin and your blood dripped onto the wooden floor. 

You didn’t watch him descend the stairs or cross the space between you. You closed your eyes so you wouldn’t see his hand grab yours, wrapping the small but deep cut with gauze he carried with him. You yanked away the moment his hold lightened. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

“Y/N-” He said again, your name hurting more than his own. 

“You’re dead!” Your scream filled the apartment. You knew it filled his head. Everything always did. Good. Let it. 

Matt didn’t step away, but he did let his hand fall back to his side. 

“I know.” 

You tried your best not to shake, not to cry and show the weakness you’d felt for the last weeks. Then again, you wanted him to know. You wanted him to feel everything you’d felt. 

“Tell me you were trapped somewhere. Tell me you tried everything you could to get back to us and you just broke free,” you pleaded. “Tell me a lie, Matt, because I’d rather hear that than whatever bullshit reason you can give me.”

He opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him speak, reading his face before he could say it. 

“I swear, if you say something about ‘protecting me’, then you should have just left me to those creeps because that would have been better than listening to that broken record again.” You turned your back and for that second, you let yourself crumple, but only for a second and completely silent. 

“It wasn’t about you.” 

You straightened up again. “It never was.” 

Now, with you facing away, it was his turn to break. Matt sucked in a sharp breath to keep himself together as you continued. 

“It was always about you, Matt. About your insisted martyrdom.” You didn’t try to stop your tears now, tasting their salt as they flowed past your lips. “Your city. The rest of us just live here, right?” You turned around, stepping towards him. “But at least we live.” With your hands on his chest, you pushed him back. “Which is a hell of a lot harder than hiding.” 

You pushed again and again and again and he just stood there and took it. Your flattened hands turned to fists, hitting harder and harder until you were sure you’d leave bruises on his chest. 

It was when you collapsed that he finally moved, throwing his arms around you before you could hit the floor, your legs giving out under the weight of your utter, complete agony. Your sobs choked you and rattled through Matt like gunfire. You kept fighting him, even as he held you, the pain of your injuries was nothing compared to what you felt in your soul. Like the shattered pieces were being forced back together, but didn’t fit anymore. 

Matt wanted to make it stop. He wanted more than anything to take all of the pain away and tell you it was going to be okay. He was here now. But he was the cause of it all and there was nothing he could do to change it. 

And while there was still a dark part of him that wanted to leave you here, to shield you from him entirely, Matt knew if he tried to walk away now, he wouldn't survive it. Daredevil or Matt Murdock, it didn’t matter. He was yours. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair. 

“You were dead,” you said again, this time with broken words blending together with your sobs. “I tried to go back. I tried to get into Midland Circle, but they dragged me out. I tried, Matt, I-”

He cut you off with a kiss on the forehead and held you closer. 

“I know.” He could still hear your screams, your pleas to give up your life to try and save him. He’d thrown it away, everything you’d tried to make of him. Of the two of you, together. 

You’ll get her killed too. Fisk’s voice in his head pierced his skull like a blade. I will crush her. I’ll tear her apart piece by piece, Matthew, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. 

“She’ll put up a hell of a fight first,” Matt muttered. 

“What?” You pulled back to look up at him. 

He shook his head and held you closer still until the lines between you blurred together. 

“Nothing.” 

Even though every part of him now screamed to get away, he couldn’t move. Even as you knelt in front of him, pulling his lips down to yours, he didn’t fight it. A shock worse than any punch went through his system the moment you kissed him. Like every nerve was finally waking up. 

Maybe he wasn’t dead after all. 

Matt cupped your cheek with one hand and slipped the other to the small of your back, urging you to stand and walk with him to the bed neither of you had slept in in weeks. 

He’d decide in the morning.

[peachhcs]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do an imagine where Will and Samy are maybe at the lake house or this could be when they were in high school and there is a spider or mouse in her room and she makes Will catch it and then stay with her the rest of the night. Maybe also Jack, Luke, and Quinn told her to just go to bed and to stop being dramatic but Will saves the day.

guys i’ve underestimated how busy i am so i’m sorry i haven’t been as active 😔😔 i’m trying really hard to get through the requests so if i answer any that were from so long ago i promise it’s not intentional

au masterlist

“jack! jack!” samy whispered yelled into her brother’s door. she stood nervously in the hallway waiting for him to open the door while glancing back at her own room down the hallway.

the door cracked open, “what?” jack asked in annoyance.

“can you come into my room for a second? there’s like a huge fucking spider in there,” samy rushed out, worried that the eight legged creature was crawling across her wall.

“samy, it’s 1 in the morning,” jack groaned.

“please? jack it’s too high and i don’t wanna kill it,” the younger girl pleaded, but her brother wasn’t budging.

“you kill it. you’re literally fifteen,” maybe if they were still 6 and 10, but samy wasn’t a kid anymore and jack fully knew she could kill the bugs in her room now.

“j, please. it’s freaking me out. it’s fucking huge,” the brunette begged, but jack wasn’t having it. he was exhausted and did not think this warranted getting woken up for.

“no, you’re being dramatic. just grab a paper towel or some shit,” the boy shut his door before samy could say anything else.

samy stood there in the quiet hallway in shock that jack just closed the door on her face. the girl frowned before moving onto the next door which was luke’s room. she figured him and will were still awake considering they never slept during the summer like ever. she knocked and prayed one of them would answer.

to her relief, the door cracked open and luke poked his head out. “what do you want?”

“can one of you please, please come kill a spider in my room? it’s literally fucking huge,” samy begged and of course, luke rolled his eyes.

“seriously sam? it’s a spider,” he complained like jack did minutes ago.

“please, it’s freaking me out. i can’t kill it. it’s too big,” samy pleaded and that’s when will finally gave in.

“i’ll kill it,” the blonde got up from the chair he was in.

“dude, we’re in the middle of a game,” luke complained.

“it’ll take like two seconds,” samy smiled gratefully at will as she led the hockey player back to her room. they heard luke’s door close and him mumble a whatever.

the girl slowly crept back into the room, her gaze scanning for wherever the demon went.

she found the thing stuck up in the corner and immediately clutched will’s arm. “see?”

it really was big. the body had to be the size of a piece of broccoli. will’s eyes wine ed when he laid his eyes on the insect, “holy shit you weren’t kidding.”

“i told you! it’s huge! there’s no way i can kill it with a paper towel,” samy cried and freaked even more when it moved a few inches.

“okay, okay, i can do it. give me a cup,” will determined. the younger hughes handed him one of her empty plastic cups and watched a bit fearfully as he slowly shuffled forward so he could stand up on her bed to reach.

“if it falls i’m gonna scream,” she so badly wanted to close her eyes but she knew she couldn’t.

“it won’t, i promise,” the hockey player carefully climbed onto samy’s bed, his movements slow and deliberate as to not spook the big spider.

samy nervously watched will slowly raise his arm with the cup in his hand. he zeroed in on the creature, his own fearful expression on his lips, but will knew he had to be brave for samy’s sake.

the two were dead silent as will carefully closed the cup around the spider. he hit the cup against the wall with a loud smack and samy couldn’t help her scream.

“got it!” will exclaimed. “give me a piece of paper,” he urged and samy quickly handed him notebook paper. he slid it between the wall and the cup to allow himself to ease the plastic cup away from the wall.

“throw that thing outside,” samy quickly pushed him out of her room.

will ran downstairs to dispose of the big creature while samy scanned her walls for anymore unpleasant bugs. will came back a moment later with two free hands.

“all gone!” he smiled.

“thank you. sorry for bothering you guys. i just got really freaked out,” the brunette frowned. she was glad the spider was gone, but it left a very erie feeling across her skin because how did a spider as big as that one even get into her room?

“it’s fine. that was a huge spider. i thought you were being dramatic,” will teased a bit and samy rolled her eyes.

“do you mind hanging around for a second? i need to like calm down from that,” the girl laughed nervously as she sat on her bed to calm her thoughts.

it was clear she was not a huge fan of bugs like that.

“yeah, sure,” will smiled and joined her on the bed.

samy’s heart was racing, so she tried taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. will watched her, not realizing how freaked out the girl got until now and he suddenly felt a little bad.

“remember when we were like 11 and our parents took us to the zoo and i completely started crying over the gorillas because of that one kid that fell into the enclosure?” the blonde said mostly in hopes that it would take samy’s mind off of the large spider.

“oh my god, yeah. you sobbed in front of everyone and no one could make you stop,” samy giggled.

“probably not my best moment,” will laughed too.

“it was soo funny though. it proved you had empathy though,” the girl poked him with a smile.

the two talked for a bit longer until at some point samy fell asleep without even realizing, except she had fallen asleep on will. the blonde flushed and felt bad leaving after seeing how freaked out she was, so he decided to stay. luke would be able to live without him for a night.

frankly, that was probably the best sleep will’s had all summer because he wasn’t staying up all night for once playing video games. plus, samy’s bed was way more comfortable than luke’s trundle pull out bed.

[rebelliousstories]

Same Face

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Death, Drinking and Alcohol, Brief Strong Language

Word Count: 1,072

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Taken from your timeline with your adopted daughter was bad enough. Now you have to deal with a man that looks exactly like the one you lost. Complete with the trauma.

Consider Donating: Here

The void was a rough terrain for anyone. A desolate wasteland where everything came to die, and no one lived for too long. This was where she had found herself and her adoptive daughter. When Laura had brought new survivors to the hideout, she almost could not believe it. He was here; Logan had returned.

But as she hid in the shadows while that man in the red suit continued to yap, she quickly realized that this was not her Logan. Not only was he younger, without the advanced adimantium poisoning that her’s did, but everything about him was off. Sure, her lover drank like a fish, but not like this. He never did it to forget entirely. And he would also not be caught dead in yellow spandex.

Laura made herself known to the group, but her adoptive mother did not. She just continued to stay in the dark, where she was most comfortable. Whoever this red suited merc with an endless supply of witty comments was, she did not care for him. Her eyes just stayed on the man that looked so eerily like her lost love.

“That’s- that’s her, Logan. That’s X-23. Wait, if you’re here, then…” Wade gasped dramatically, “is NightMaere here?”

The way he said it, it almost sounded like excitement. But the woman refused to reveal herself just yet. Logan grumbled behind a gulp of whiskey, “who the hell is that?”

“You didn’t have one of her in your world?” Deadpool was now utterly confused. But the Wolverine just shook his head, and took another swig.

Upon hearing this, she just slinked further back into the shadows, and went into a dark corner. She was not sure which would have been worse; for him to have one of her and possibly have lost her, or for her to have never existed in the first place.

Either way, she did not care to stick around.

It was not until nightfall that she was seen again. And that was only because Laura had come to seek her out. The younger girl crouched down to where the older woman was sitting. Following her eyes, Laura could not help but smile as she saw that she was looking at the new Logan.

“You should go talk to him.” She suggested, knocking her shoulder into her’s.

“Yeah, cause that worked out so well for you.” Her mom chuckled.

“Seriously,” Laura smirked, “it would do you both some good.”

Looking at the young girl that she had to raise, the woman smiled. Everyday, no matter how long it had been, she saw more and more of Logan in her. A brief kiss was pressed to Laura’s head, before she walked out into the open night, and towards the bonfire.

“Kid, will you just let me be?” Logan grumbled, behind the lip of his bottle.

“I’m not Laura.” She clarified, taking a seat on the same log. There was a long period of silence shared between the two of them. Neither one knew quite what to say, or who should talk first.

“Did you… um, did I really not exist in your universe?” The question on her mind was tentatively asked.

Logan took in a deep breath, that he released in a long sigh. “It’s more complicated. You were around but we were never a thing.”

“Ah, so we were just friends?”

“Yeah. Not that we didn’t try to be more.” Now, she was confused.

“What happened?” Another deep sigh.

“You got corrupted by your power. Literally, all the nightmares that you could make starting haunting you, even though you tried not to. It got to the point where you would have these fits and would send visions into peoples minds. You never meant to. It was just the side effect of your condition. Eventually, you had to be confined to- well, it was basically a cell. One crafted by Magneto, and reinforced by Chuck. You died in there.”

The pain in his voice, the tears brimming his lashes, the anguish he lived with. “You had to kill me, didn’t you?”

Not trusting his voice, Logan nodded. His throat tightened as he let out a shaky exhale. “We got one dinner before you died. One small date when you were lucid,” he spoke before clearing his throat.

“Wasn’t too long after that everything went to shit.” They both stared ahead at the crackling fire.

“We were married, ya know. Not legally, but Texas has common law marriages. You were my lifeline throughout the end of mutants. Until Laura came along, you were the single most important person in my world. Then she did, a little Logan, and we promised each other that no matter what, no matter which of us died, we would do whatever was best for her. I got to show her your Canadian roots, but we moved around a lot. Trust me, teaching her to hid her mutant ability was not easy. That child was feral for a time.” She joked, thinking back on the mutant’s childhood.

“Yeah? She seems like a spitfire. Not afraid to speak her mind.” Logan commented.

“She got that from you. Or rather, our Logan. There were definitely times that I asked if I could do this. Then I remembered how I made a vow to myself that she wouldn’t become an orphan again.” Finally breaking her eyes away from the fire, she looked at Logan’s face that was also turned towards her.

That face that was so familiar, but so different. This Logan had wrinkles in places that her’s did not. But he also had smooth skin in places her’s did not wither. But those eyes. Those were the same. She hoped, just in her mind, that she would be able to find those eyes no matter where in the multiverse she was.

“You did a good job raising her. You should be proud.” He muttered, a soberness taking over that was not there before.

“Thanks,” came her soft reply. “Listen, I need to get some sleep and check up on her. I hope you do what’s right tomorrow. I’d hate for Laura to be proven wrong.”

A gentle hand tapped his suit covered knee a couple times before heading back to the building that their ragtag group had claimed as their own. One final look was thrown over her shoulder, where she caught Logan watching her leave. She smiled, and continued on anyways.

[writing-zelda-brainrots]

It’s time for me to yap more about Return by Death!Reader. I might do more later, but this is all the brainworms I have for now.

Wild and [Name] are kind of like mirror images of each other: both feeling like they failed when they were needed the most, both feeling like they can’t lose another friend, and a metric assload of self-esteem issues. Where Wild’s issues come from not remembering enough, [Name]’s come from remembering too much. Both of them have had to deal with the expectations that people placed onto them, with Wild having separated himself from his past (to the point where he literally regards his past “self” as a different person), and [Name] still learning to deal with everything.

If we’re going with the assumption that Satella/the Witch of Envy is still the one in control of RbD, then Wars would definitely relate to having a lovesick witch constantly watching you. That is to say, if he ever finds out about it. You might drop some hints that someone is very attached to you in a very much Not HealthyTM way. He doesn’t really like talking about Cia, but he will do so if he thinks that his experiences can help you with your problems. He still won’t go into detail, but it’s still enough to know that he cares and pays attention.

And, yes, I do think that Wars pays a lot of attention to their mental state. I mean, at this point how could he not? And being the nosey person he is (ahem, that time he stole Wild’s vai clothes), he does talk to the others about what they think is going on with [Name]. He’s slowly trying to piece things together, but he can’t really test his theory and asking you is a dead end, so his ideas are still kind of half-baked.

One thing that I left out of the original post (because I couldn’t find a way to organically fit it in there) was that [Name] is actually pretty scared of the Fierce Deity. They still don't even know that FD knows about RbD or that he wants to help them.

Their first ‘real encounter’ involved FD killing [Name] at the end of a failed timeline where everything had gone wrong. In FD’s defence, he did not yet know about RbD and it was really a mercy kill to put them out of their misery so they wouldn’t see what had happened to the rest of the group or face a brutal death at the hands of monsters. Also their body was basically already giving out due to prior wounds.

It was only in a later point in time, where Time was showing Wind his masks, did [Name] see the Deity's mask up close and realize what that thing they saw back then was.

I do think that FD would tell Time about RbD, but I personally think that they can’t communicate unless someone wears the mask. And because Time does not want to use it, that secret stays untold. Also there’s the chance that the curse will activate, even if [Name] is not even taking part in the conversation, so I do think that there’s a bit of hesitation there.

[pupyuj]

baby daddy gaeul thoughts? :)

omg anon i was just gonna link you this old baby daddy ive drabble i did but i realized there's literally nothing much for gaeul there so now we out here‼️‼️‼️

idek how nasty i can get with this since i stated in my last baby daddy ive drabble that gaeul’s just really fucking sweet 😭💕 like truly!!!! taking care of you day and night throughout your whole pregnancy and when the baby’s here, she just gets even better! 🥺💓 she becomes a hundred times more attractive to you while she does the whole parent stuff… it warms your heart every time you wake up in the morning and you see her by the window holding your kid in her arms and singing them a soft melody.. but really also makes you think that wow.. you reallyyyy scored the jackpot huh 😛😛

ofc the two of you would act appropriately when the kid’s around but once they’re grown enough to be away from home for daycare or something??? oh trusttt that you and gaeul revert back to your young adult selves where you just can’t keep your hands off each other 😵‍💫 gaeul would come back in the house from taking your kid to school and she would see you making a little mid-morning snack and she just can’t help herself seeing you in your nightgown and apron 🤤🤤

don’t be surprised when gaeul inevitably presses up against you from behind while you’re slightly bent over the kitchen island as you ate your snack! 🤭 you could be talking to a friend over the phone too… having to bite back a small whine when she palms your ass and tells you to hang up the call.. and ofc you do that bcs what else were you gonna do?? not get fucked?? come on now 😤

first it would just be little kisses on your neck and shoulders, and then she’d have her hand in between your legs from behind and ykw i believe gaeul can be an ass sometimes! teasing you about being so wet, claiming that you probably didn’t change out of that nightgown in hopes of this exact scenario happening… and it was true! 🤭 but you’re not going to allow yourself to be the only one embarrassed here! making a comment about how gaeul’s jeans are near to bursting open bcs of the hard-on that you knew has been there the second she started driving back home to you.. yeah gaeul wasn’t being as slick as she thought she was 🫠🫠

apparently that was the last straw bcs then you’re laying on the couch taking gaeul’s whole cock inside you effortlessly and it felt a lot better when it wasn’t dead in the night and the two of you were trying to be sneaky 🫢 even gaeul couldn’t keep herself quiet at all, and has she always been so… chatty??

“t-the way you’ve been acting lately is so… f-familiar… mmm.. i’ve been trying to figure it out for d-days and… fuck—i finally know why…! i know what you want, darling…”

“you don’t want to fuck just for the sake of fucking, don’t you…? you want another one…!”

“is that what we’re doing today? hm?? you’re going to take me until we have another baby, huh?”

well when she talked like that… it wasn’t very shocking that you’d come home with amazing news after a visit to a doctor 🫣

[cheolinnie]

SVT as your Bodyguards (Vocal Unit) pt2

pt1 here.

a/n: as requested for another unit, here it is!

a/n: and if u havent read pt1, click the link at the top!

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Jihoon:

Not really the kind to escort you, he's more of someone who drives you or stands guard

Everyone who's thought he's cute and tries to cross him, always ends up regretting it

definitely your designated driver

sometimes does your manager's job for them

He somehow knows your weekly schedule like the back of his hand, making you wonder is he has a life or not

"Come on, you have a meeting at 11am, and then a fan meeting at 2pm, which gives you more than enough time for lunch and maybe squeeze in that swedish massage you've been wanting to try out"

"...Jihoon what the fu-"

Jeonghan:

secretly your husband *wink*

Likes to whisper dirty jokes in your ear just to see how you hold it in, in front of the cameras

Overall he's pretty smiley, until he catches someone not so smiley.

Doesn't like to fight, so his words do the job

It always shocks you when he gets mad, and his usual angelic voice drops an octave or two

Will always carry your bags

Fixes your hair on windy days as well as tying it, and sometimes even braiding it.

"It's so hot, how'd you forget your hair tie?"

"i didn't, cuz my manager said-"

"Come here, you'll melt- plus, you look just as good with it tied up... gives me more acess to kiss you anyways"

Joshua

Sometimes it feels like YOU have to be HIS bodyguard with the way people ogle at him

Such an attention seeker, and he damn well knows it

Literally looks good in every picture he's "accidently" in

Has way too much sass towards you, and there's been countless times where you just wanna backhand his perfect face

He enjoys teasing you, and your glares make him giggle

"Aww, turn that frown upside down, or i'll be the one in tomorrow's headlines~"

Seokmin:

Ohhh this one adores getting on your nerves

Everyone love him, given he's great at keeping the paps from crowding you, but he's got a big ass childish side

so in private, you're like his mom sometimes

he's whiny??

has a way with words though, and there are many times when he talks to rude paps in a hushed voice and in the end it looks they're gonna actully jump

always has a smug smile on his face when he encounters people he's reprimaded before, and they slowly back away

"Excuse me Mr, i'd advise you to step back...Ms (y/n) isn't feeling too well and you might catch whatever virus she has"

Seungkwan:

there are countless phtos of you two exchanging grimaces

you're either silently judging others together, or you're silently judging eachother

this man is not afraid to shove or push, in fact, you think he likes it sometimes

has this irritating obsession with flicking your ear instead of just saying a simple "no"

tells you as it is- so if you're looking rough, dont bet on him giving you a confidence boost

for someone who's not that much taller than you, he's got hands of steel; the amount of people he's stopped dead in their trackswith just a raise of his usually flimsy hand

"Another step and my hand will be gripping your heart buddy"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: hope you guys like it!

[sadgirlglimmeringdarling]

Are you able to access the whitestripesfans instagram account? I don't see it. I don't know if I was blocked or if the page is gone. 😳

I don't think you were blocked. I can't see the page either. It's actually gone. Like gone gone.

I don't know what happened with "whitestripesfans" IG account. I only followed them. I had no personal conversations with them and I never DM them either. I just followed them.

In my opinion, I think what happened was what always happens on IG. Someone got jealous and petty and clicked on the report button. It's as simple as that.

There's a few very much active Jack White/White Stripes fan accounts on IG that are tacky as hell. If they're not talking about how nice and tight black pants look on Jack's thighs, they are talking about his fucking "fluffy" hair.

They would also occasionally take nasty swipes at "thewhitestripesfans" IG account. The "whitestripesfans" never responded to them or attacked them back, which was honorable of them. They stayed on their lane, updating their page and staying away from that drama.

As I said on my previous post, there was a large amount of important people who were following "thewhitestripesfans" IG page.

Ben Blackwell literally followed them and helped "thewhitestripesfans" with crediting the pics and the story behind the pics. You had legendary photographers following them and talking to them about the pics they took of the band. Marcie Bolen followed them. Thirdman Records followed them. Jack's other nephew (who is a musician) was liking their pics.

None of these important people in the story of The White Stripes would go near any of these other tacky ass Jack White/ White Stripes fanpages. None. Imagine Ben following a fan account that talked about his uncle's "fluffy" hair or his uncle's thighs looking sexy?

That's why nobody important to The White Stripes story went near those stupid fanpages. They followed "thewhitestripesfans" IG because they were respectful and kept it about the music - not the drama or Jack's "fluffy" hair.

You also never saw "thewhitestripesfans" fawning over Jack or kissing anyone's ass.

Like I said, in my opinion, I speculate that someone got jealous and clicked on the report button, having "whitestripesfans" IG page purposely deleted.

This is the same exact fucked up situation with Lana Del Rey IG fanpages.

As soon as Lana follows a fan's IG account, the page is gone within days. Every single fucking time. There have been over 40 Lana IG fanpages that were taken down this year for "impersonation" and it always happens as soon as Lana follows the account.

The latest victim is "Lizzytropicana" who posted old school Lizzy Grant pics and old music videos. "Saifdelrey" lost his account a week ago. Lana followed him and loved the way he edited her songs. Not only did a bitter jealous fan report his IG page, but they also reported his YouTube channel where he posted his beautiful video edits. "Saifdelrey" lost everything. IG gone and videos on YouTube gone. This is fucked up.

I'm also seeing many Sharon Tate IG fan accounts disappearing too. You got Sharon fanpages bickering with each other over stupid things. Like "that's my picture!" or "why are you stealing my photos!" - before you know it, these idiots are reporting each others accounts.

Mind you, Sharon Tate has been dead for close to 60 years.

IG is the worst place to have any fan account because anyone can literally click on the report button on a profile and get the account deleted. IG doesn't even fucking investigate. They just delete.

One thing IG is great at is when it comes to blocking people. They use a system where you block the person straight to their device along with their other accounts - (something Tumblr lacks which is why I had to buy software doing that for me here) but when it comes to deleting accounts without investigating - IG is absolute garbage.

The sad part is all these Lana fans get "backup" IG accounts and their backup accounts get taken down too. Lana re-follows them, they get reported and the account gets deleted again.

That was the perfect case with Lanaboard's IG. That heffa got like 5 backup accounts and as soon as Lana followed them again, it gets deleted. Lana tries to help these fans but there's nothing she can do. She doesn't work at Meta's IT department. She's a songwriter.

All this ridiculous drama because some asshole is jealous that Lana Del Rey follows them! That's the same case with "whitestripesfans" account. Petty jealousy because so and so follows them but not you.

I got an IG account simply to follow my favorite artists, singers and fan accounts. I came late to the IG party. For years I refused to get an account. I don't even update it. I don't fuck with it. I just follow people.

People are leaving IG in droves. They're going on X instead. X doesn't delete anyone like that for shits and giggles. That's where IG loses.

Tumblr doesn't delete anyone like that either. The only time I seen Tumblr delete an account is usually if you're running a hardcore porn page or a pro-ana account. They don't even touch any of those hateful racist Free Palestine Tumblr pages that are full of hatred for mankind. Freedom of Speech and such.

So yeah, I think that's what happened to "whitestripesfans" page. Jealousy and pettiness runs rampant in IG. A fucking shame because I liked their page. "Whitestripesfans" page was even better then the official White Stripes page. That's why so many important people followed them. I wonder if their making another account? If that person was smart, they would go somewhere else. Opening a new IG page will only have those same petty jealous twats report them all over again and have their page deleted.

A fucking shame that now their gone.

[w31rd0-art1st]

Ghost(oc) and the rest of the command batch(plus their adopted captains) as cadets.

Ghost: Kote, why do you have two soaking wet cadets..?

Kote, who is also soaking wet, holding both Keeli's and Rex's hands: they fell in the ocean.

Ghost: and you're soaked because..?

Kote: I jumped in to the save them.

Ghost: I see.

Ghost, picking up both Keeli and Rex: you poor things, don't worry I'll get you all dried off and warmed up.

Kote: what about me..?

Ghost: there's towels in the 'fresher.

Kote: ...

Wolffe: ...what just happened?

Fox: he, he just left Kote to get his own towel-

Bly: oh my stars... we've been replaced!

Gree: Kote! What have you done?!

Kote: i-i don't know-

Bacara: you should've just let them drown!

Rex, holding Keeli's hand in the middle of the night: Ori'vod, Keeli threw up..

Ghost, sitting up in bed: okay. I'll be there here in a minute.

Alpha-17: ...Ghost, what do you have?

Ghost, who has Rex on his back and is holding Keeli in one arm and a drink in the other: a nutri-smoothie.

Literally all the CCs+CTs (minus Ghost) fighting over something stupid in the barracks.

Ghost: ...

Ghost: SHUT THE KARK UP OR I SWEAR TO GOD

Kote: ...

Wolffe: oh no...

Rex: ... We're dead.

Bacara: I know I don't show it but I love you all.

Ghost, walking back into the barracks: how've my wonderful, strong, brave Kih'vode been while I was doing my stealth training?

Fox: we've been gre-

Ghost: I wasn't talking to you.

Rex & Keeli in unison: Ori'vod!

Ghost: Rex'ika! Keel'ika! My sweet Kih'vode, I missed you!

Fox: ...

Fox: this is your fault.

Kote: I know.

Fox: I used to be his 'precious Kih'vod'...

Kote: I know, Fox.

Fox: but you just had to ruin it.

Kote: (sigh) ...I know.

Jango: uhh, what's going on...?

Ghost, standing completely unfazed as Wolffe bites his right arm and Fox bites his left leg to the point they're drawing blood, Bacara is desperately trying to push Ghost over with the help of Gree, and Cody, Rex, Keeli, and Bly watch from the side.

Alpha-17: training.

Jango: uh-huh..

Alpha-17: don't worry, Ghost is fine.

Jango: why's he just standing like that?

Alpha-17: he's reached the stage where he's questioning the point of life. We're just clones that were made for one purpose and one purpose only. We're made to fight and eventually die, that's all we're good for.

Jango: ...

Alpha-17: don't worry it's normal. He'll get over it in a few days... Probably.

Jango: what?

Alpha-17: nothing.

Ghost, face planting on the floor: ughhhhhh

Kote: you good?

Ghost: nooooo

Wolffe: okay..

Rex, pulling over a blanket and pillow before flopping beside Ghost: cuddle time.

Keeli, joining in with his own pillow and blanket: cuddle time.

Bly: you heard them, cuddle time.

Ghost, muffled by the fact he is still face down on the floor: ... thank you.

Gree: and then-

Ghost: what are you talking about?

Gree: AHHHHHHH

kote: HOLY KARK!

Wolffe: WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!??

Ghost, grinning: you'll never know.

Wolffe: AHHHHHHHH

Please let me know if you'd like more :3

Btw sorry if any characters seem out of character, I don't know much about Gree/Bacara specifically.

[thedreamsofgalaxies]

People really need to stop claiming Viktor was dead when Jayce hexcored him. He was not. The rules of what kills you or not are vastly different in the Arcane universe. He was not dead. Jayce literally says Viktor was bleeding out. The later claim about "my partner dying in this room" is so obviously metaphorical. It's a thing people say when someone is so utterly changed from who they used to be and we need to stop pretending Jayce was having some revelation there.

Here are some facts, since people are gonna scream at me for this:

1. Coming back from the dead is huge fucking deal even in the Arcane universe. Singed has been trying to do that literally for decades without success. If Vik was dead and arisen, it wouldn't have been such a thing when he did it later.

2. He was amp'd up with shimmer and hextech at the moment of the blast. Those are two of the most inhuman super power juices Arcane has, both giving it's user endurance, healing, and power.

3. "But his spine was broken" - sure, maybe? (Let's just add that that image is an artistic expression and probably not in the script.) That in itself isn't an instant death. Especially with shimmer in your body. There are plenty of deadly injuries in the show which don't end up being nothing more than a flesh wound.

Would he have died, like, very soon, without Jayce? Yes, most likely. But he wasn't dead yet. It wasn't a fucking necromancy.

[sheeezu]

It's my first time seeing DPS shifter!! That movie is such a comfort for me (I know haha). I even got matching tattoos with my sibling based off of it with "Make your lives extraordinary". I would love to hear you talk more about it if you're comfortable with that. Do you maybe have any stories from that DR? Do you have an S/O there or made it different from the source material?

Hi :) I actually got a similar ask, asking about my dps society, it got lost in the drafts.

(I hope that person sees this)

(What fun boys they are)

My dead poets society dr

It was mostly based on the source material but a special someone does not die. Also I couldn't fit a girl in an all boys school, nor did I wanted to, so I went in as male.

It also took place in 1989, I wasn't going back that far.

I love Neil Perry, I wasn't going to leave him alone so we ended up as roommates, and adjusted Todd with Knox.

My S/O was my unassuming Neil Perry (ofc)

I actually have a lot to talk about, but I'm just going to break down how each character was like, kind of like a storytime which could fit in one post (if you're unsatisfied, you can always ring my inbox again, even disguise yourself by changing your tone of writing a bit)

Neil Perry

I'd like to say, this guy has no object permeance. If he get's excited then he becomes a literal hazard. One time, he pulled me so harshly by my wrist, to the point of dislocating my shoulder. disclaimer, he will vent out to you all night long if he's upset, not realizing it's 3am and you both have classes tomorrow, and you can barely keep your eyes open. Otherwise he's really sweet, and nice class participation as well. (idk why i mentioned that)

Todd Anderson

Todd, even though he claims "he can take care of himself", he can't. He's always lost, and childishly likes to ignore social cues. He's actually very gullible, at least with me. Other than that, for no reason at all, i'd sneak into his room to read his personal diary; like it was simply an interesting novel and not an invasion of someone's privacy, he wrote about every single social interaction he had that day.

Charlie Dalton

CHARLIE, CHARLIE, CHARLIE. other than his usual obnoxiousness (as seen in the media) he will get serious when required, personally for me, he had been the person I could tell ANYTHING to. He's responsible for writing inappropriate words in the bathroom stalls (this is the dr where i removed urinals, because excuse you, i am not man-ing like this; instead there were stalls) Sleeps with his mouth open, hits on every breathing things, but doesn't have interest in anyone.

Mr. Keating

I ASPIRE to be this man. Honestly throughout the lectures, when they took a weird turn, i was very much the "I'd like to be excluded from this narrative" type of guy.

He would never get mad if any of the student were to visit him, no matter the time, whether it was late at night, he never got mad at all!

I ended up having an entire convo on the multiverse with him, and he agreed and patted me on the back, saying "you're onto something, pal."

...

This was getting long, but tbh I enjoyed writing this (this had been in my drafts for weeks) im pretty sure their are only a handful of dps shifters, a handful of people shifting for THE BEST MEDIA EVER.

i get that your ask, requested a storytime, and this isn't that, i'm sure i'll make one, that'll actually be in the form of a story.

(also of course, some people are left out, will come to them later ..?)

...

[enemiestolovershoe]

20 Moments bf!Chris Made Your Heart Swell

bf!Chris who always makes sure you get home safe

It doesn’t matter if you’re out with friends, running errands, or just heading home from work—Chris won’t sleep until he knows you’re safe. "Text me when you get home," he always says. And if you forget? Your phone buzzes with a simple, "You home, love?" Every time, without fail.

bf!Chris who memorizes your coffee order

You never have to ask—he just knows. One morning, you were running late, and before you could even stress about skipping your caffeine fix, he handed you your usual. "Figured you’d need it," he said with a smirk.

bf!Chris who leaves his hoodies at your place on purpose

You always tell him he forgets them, but he never corrects you. "You just look cuter in them," he admits one night when you’re curled up in his hoodie, sleeves covering your hands.

bf!Chris who will literally drop anything for you

You once called him in the middle of a frustrating grocery run because the self-checkout machine wasn’t working. Five minutes later, he walked through the sliding doors, shaking his head with a grin. "Can’t leave you alone for one second, huh?"

bf!Chris who always pulls you closer in his sleep

Even when he’s dead asleep, his body knows where yours is. If you roll away, he’ll instinctively reach for you, mumbling something incoherent before tucking you against his chest.

bf!Chris who hypes you up over everything

New outfit? "Damn, my girl looks fine." Finished a book? "Look at you, a whole scholar." Made dinner? "Oh, we’re eating like royalty tonight!" No accomplishment is too small for his full support.

bf!Chris who gives you the last bite of everything

It doesn’t matter if it’s his favorite meal—if you want it, it’s yours. "Nah, I’m full," he’ll say, but you know he’s lying.

bf!Chris who kisses your forehead like it’s second nature

In the mornings, before he leaves, in the middle of conversations—it just happens. Sometimes, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. It’s just instinct.

bf!Chris who holds your hand under the table

Even in a crowded restaurant with all his friends, his hand finds yours. He doesn’t need to say anything—just having you close is enough.

bf!Chris who makes you feel like the only person in the world

At the end of the day, no matter what’s going on, he always makes time for you. "You good, baby?" he’ll ask, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. And when he looks at you, you know—there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

bf!Chris who texts you “good morning” and “goodnight” every single day

Even if he’s right next to you, even if he saw you five minutes ago—he still sends them. "Just in case you forget how much I love you," he says with a smirk.

bf!Chris who instinctively rests his hand on your thigh when he’s driving

It’s not even a conscious thing anymore. The second he gets in the car, his hand finds your leg, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles against your skin.

bf!Chris who takes random photos of you when you’re not looking

You’ll find them in his camera roll—some blurry, some candid, all taken with a quiet kind of love. "I just like having pictures of my girl," he shrugs when you catch him.

bf!Chris who brings you snacks when you’re working late

If you’re busy, he won’t interrupt—he’ll just quietly place your favorite snack next to you and press a quick kiss to your temple before walking away.

bf!Chris who randomly tucks your hair behind your ear

It doesn’t matter where you are—talking, eating, watching a movie—if your hair falls in your face, he gently brushes it back without a second thought.

bf!Chris who rubs your back until you fall asleep

Some nights, when your mind won’t shut off, he just runs his hand up and down your back in slow, soothing motions until you drift off.

bf!Chris who makes up the dumbest nicknames for you

Some are cute, some are questionable, but they’re all undeniably Chris. "Come on, snickerdoodle," he’ll say, completely serious.

bf!Chris who always waits for you to walk inside before driving off

Even if you tell him it’s fine, he won’t leave until he sees you step inside. "Just wanna make sure my girl’s safe," he says every time.

bf!Chris who always notices the little things

New earrings? "Cute." Different perfume? "You smell good, baby." Something’s off? "What’s wrong?" Nothing about you goes unnoticed.

bf!Chris who pulls you closer when someone flirts with you

He’s not the jealous type, but if someone’s being too bold, his arm finds your waist, his lips press against your temple, and his voice is soft but firm—"She’s with me."

Taglist: @sophand4n4 @courta13

[kassian-ck]

Since we're all gonna die (Cobra Kai s6 p3 coming out soon), I feel like there's one more secret I have to share with you.

I do not want Miguel to become captain of Cobra Kai and win the sekai taikai. Nor for Johnny to get Cobra Kai back.

Do not like it, do not like the way leaks presume they're going to get it. And much less that Robby is honestly going the get the short end of the stick again by getting a career changing injury especially after the 8 minute leak that came out. I'm a sucker for stories that highlight how life doesn't go as expected including lifelong dreams, but I think Robby has had enough of that bro 😭 I've seen pretty much everyone voice their distaste in this part, but I haven't seen much about Miguel so you know me 🫶

So for me, this is not something that favors Miguel as a character at all. Becoming a replacement for a spot that he likely didn't do anything to earn I think completely diminishes the effort he put into trying to become captain in the first place. Who knows how it may happen when my guess is that Yoon will take Kwon's place, kinda tricky to take the spot of a dead kid too imo. Cobra Kai has impacted Miguel in more ways than just a shift in his attitude and idealogy. It's easily part of the reason why he experienced a near-death experience in the first place. So for him to return to a dojo that literally changed his life for the worst, alongside the guy that has audibly said that Cobra Kai will always be tainted by Kreese's legacy is such a nasty character assassination for both Miguel and Johnny. Miguel doesn't need to be captain to be on top and to succeed. The way that he's become Robby's right hand man after everything they've gone through is too good to be taken away man, come on.

EDIT: I be always posting without finishing my thoughts man istg. But wanting to add about Robby — If the writers are trying to have Robby's arc be that he defeats all odds even after everything he's gone through, giving him another injury is not the way to send that message. It would genuinely be much more powerful if they allow Robby to keep the captaincy he won fair and square and show him succeed after feeling like everything in his life was against him. It doesn't have to be everything he has left, but it could show that somebody's past does not define their future. It's the absolute conclusion of his series-long arc, and I think there's no better way of doing him justice than giving him a win on the top after starting from rock bottom.

I have a TINY amount of faith that they have been playing with us all this time and everyone will actually stay in Miyagi Do, giving both Robby and Miguel the ending they deserve and have Tory ACTUALLY fight along side everyone finally, but at this point, I can't expect anything else. At least it doesn't seem that Sam actually quits karate forever and becomes just a cheerleader on the sidelines.

Maybe.

(I know I criticize the show a lot but I'm gonna miss it a lot 🤧)

[mamawasatesttube]

Why do you think a clone baby would break the TimKon friendship, considering Conner was pretty much unfased by the fact that Tim was trying (and failing) to clone him while he was dead.

Really want to read your thoughts on that!!

... because there is a huge difference between ac09 #3, where tim admits that he only did it because he was in a really bad place in his mind and he understands that it was a bad thing to do, and kon forgives him, vs the idea of tim actually succeeding at cloning kon without his consent ? see also: superboy (1994) #90. kon has very strong feelings about clones and their rights to bodily autonomy.

"you stole his body! you took away his choice!"

... does this sound familiar?

and all of this isn't even getting into the fact that teen parenthood is a very stressful situation even for normal teenagers, forget superhero and vigilante teenagers. this hypothetical baby would be created not too long before bart's death, which means that tim is hypothetically single-parenting in the aftermath of losing kon, jack drake, steph, and bart, and with everything else going on in his life when he moves to bludhaven and invents a fake uncle. to say nothing of his brucequesting. as for kon, he's coming back from an extremely brutal and traumatic death to be suddenly handed a child like congrats! you had literally no consent in this!

like. to be frank this trope just feels so deeply like the concept of "having a baby to save your marriage". that kid is going to be so fucked up because neither parent in this scenario is even remotely equipped to be a parent at this point. and frankly, the concept of "someone can use your body to create a child without your knowledge or consent and then you're expected to not only be fine with it, but also to actively jump into a relationship with that person and parent the baby with them" is just horrifying to me.