#why does Hulk need friends?

[daydreamerdrew]

The Defenders (1972) #73

#ohh I love the Hulk soo much 😭 #so Kyle has to go deal with a personal crisis and the girls all decide to hang out at the riding academy and listen to Patsy’s records #(side note that I like that while Kyle has this crisis going on he still offers to give Clea a ride home) #and after their long hectic adventure the Hulk hasn’t got it in him to listen to music #it’s too much sensory simulation for him right now #so he goes to sit in the peaceful quiet outside #and because the Hulk’s always had a hard time dealing with his emotions his mind is going to places like #why does Hulk need friends? #and Hulk just wants to be alone #when really the Hulk does like having friends and he doesn’t like being alone all of the time #it’s just that often his interactions with other people are deeply unpleasant for him #and he’s not equipped to be around people all the time #he’s built in a way that he needs his space #but this is genuinely a good moment for him like I don’t think he’s even leaving the riding academy property #he’s still in this safe place that the Defenders provides for him #he’s able to remove himself from a stressful situation and process his emotions on his own #and his friends don’t try to get him to stay and I really don’t think they’re bothered by his bluntness cause they’re used to him #so this isn’t blowing up into a situation where he lashes out at them #the Hulk still has a lot of room to grow #but I think that his time with the Defenders is where he’s done the most learning on how to mantain relationships with people #marvel #bruce banner #kyle richmond #patsy walker #valkyrie #clea strange #my posts #comic panels

[moremaybank]

tending to jj's cuts and bruises after he defends your honour... (based on this post and this request) [0.8k]

"Ow."

Your hands work diligently at the cut etched across his cheekbone from your stance between his legs. For a moment, one wanders off, stroking his non-battered cheek in a silent apology for the added pain.

"You did this to yourself," you state matter-of-factly. "No one told you to turn into the Hulk."

"Well, you don't have to be mean about it."

"I'm not trying to be mean. I just don't understand why you can't let shit go sometimes."

You move on to his split lip. A jagged, dark red line cuts through the mouth that you think about far too often. You ache to kiss it, believing that maybe you occupy the healing powers he so obviously needs, but then you think better of it.

There's no way he feels it too.

You dab a wet towel at his lip, cleaning off the dried blood, and once his mouth is free, he chooses to defend himself, thankfully with his words this go around.

"You didn't hear what he said about you, Y/N/N. I wasn't about to jus' let him get away with that shit."

Your eyes meet his, and you pause your movements. Though you appreciated his loyalty and how he'd always stick up for you no matter the cost, you never enjoy when he actually goes to those great lengths just to protect you.

Simply having him in your corner was more than you could ever ask for.

"Kelce is an idiot. I don't care what he has to say about me, and you shouldn't either."

"Well, I do. He's lucky he didn't leave in a bodybag."

Your eyes narrow at him. "You're impossible."

"'M jus' sayin," he says. His tender and sore hands travel up the sides of your thighs, warmth blossoming through you in their wake. He gives your flesh a squeeze. Funnily enough, he can no longer feel the pain flashing through them like lightning bolts now that he's touching you. "I'll never let anyone say or do anythin' to hurt you, princess. I'll always protect you."

You feel the warmth bloom in your cheeks, and you're eternally glad that he isn't holding your face the way he always does. You'd be busted if he were.

You offer him a small smile, one you can't suppress. How can you be expected to after those sentiments?

"Look, I know I probably sound like a broken record, but you can't keep putting yourself in the position to get in trouble. You're not a kid anymore, and you've had enough run-ins with the law as it is."

"'M not scared of gettin' in shit, Y/N/N."

"I'm serious," you frown down at him.

"So am I. Fuck the opps."

You scoff, wanting to wipe that devilish smirk off his face. "You sound like Pope."

"Who d'you think taught him that?"

You know he thinks this is all just a joke. Not the defending you part, but the getting in trouble with the law part. He'll always do what he feels he needs to, regardless of the possible consequences. It's just how he is. Still, you don't think it's a joke. You hate how Shoupe and the rest of them take all his indiscretions and use it as ammo to remind him that he'll never escape the southside. You'd hate to be the reason that he 'proves them right.'

"J, I mean it." You set the items that occupy your hands down on the marble counter, and grab his face in your hands, careful of his cuts and bruises. "All I'm asking is that you try and keep it together. Please. I don't like watching you get hurt."

He's silent for a moment, analyzing your words and the sincere look on your face. Yeah, you're his best friend, but it's always a nice reminder that someone actually wants to look out for him and care for him.

He likes it even better when it's you who's doing so.

The corners of his lips turn up and his hands migrate to the backs of your thighs. He uses his hold on you to urge you closer. "You're worried about me."

You give him an incredulous look. "Yes, JJ. I worry about you. After all this time, I don't even know why you question that."

"'Cause you're the only one who does."

You melt inside, and you're sure you do so on the outside as well. Your eyes soften, and to distract him from it, you go back to cleaning him up, reaching for some q-tips and the disinfectant.

His eyes flutter closed when you touch him again.

"If you wanted attention, you coulda just said so," you joke, unable to resist poking fun at him.

"Shut up," he says, laughing softly. His eyes are open again, and he looks up at you so tenderly that he wants to tell you what he's been feeling all this time.

I love you.

It's on the tip of his tongue, but when he wills it to leave his mouth, they refuse him.

He goes for the next best thing.

"Look, I'll try to...control myself. No promises, though."

A small smile graces your lips. "Thank you."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

#꒰ — daydreams ꒱ #꒰ — jj maybank ꒱ #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank brainrot #jj maybank brain rot #jj maybank concepts #jj maybank concept #jj maybank thoughts #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj maybank obx #jj maybank outer banks

[dazednmatthews]

feel us changing (coming undone) number neighbor!matt x reader part eight

y’all blew my shit up for this 😭 i hope it doesn’t dissappoint <333

“wait- fuck- ohmygod,” y/n stumbles up the stairs to her apartment in a blur, stopping to yank off the kitten heels she knew would end up being a problem tonight. “fuck these shoes.”

matt’s laugh can be heard from between her tits because she had shoved her phone in her bra to make it up the death trap.

“you’re a mess, actually.” his voice is muffled, but the amusement is palpable.

“fuck off, i’m trying my best right now.”

once she gets to her door, she undoes her keychain that’s wrapped around her forearm, violently opening her door with a thud!

“jesus, hulk.” he says, doing what he does best: making fun of her. y/n rolls her eyes, even though she knows he can’t see. she wanders carefully through the dark apartment, not bothering to turn on any lights. the tight baby tee and short skirt she’s wearing feel like they’re choking her, so she drops her shoes in the hallway and goes straight to her bathroom.

she sets her phone up on the sink, finally connecting eyes with matt, who’s sitting at his computer desk, gaming headphones on. he looks perfectly fuckable, not that she cares of course, in a tight fitting green day baseball shirt and blue and white pj bottoms. that stupid silver chain around his neck again.

“nice shirt, poser.” she says, putting on her cat eared headband, immediately getting to work on taking off her makeup.

“how do you know i don’t listen to green day?” his eyes aren’t focused on her, rather on his computer which she’s leaned against.

she scoffs, trying to ignore the spinning of the room as she wipes at her face. “knowing american idiot doesn’t count.”

matt looks down at her then, unimpressed. “alright band police.”

she laughs, rubbing her face wash in. “i’m fucking with you, matty.”

“i wish,” he says, fake dejected look on his face. it makes her stomach flip. “also stop fucking calling me that.”

y/n stops the laugh that threatens to bubble up. “you don’t like when i call you matty?” a fake pout. “why not?”

his face is severely unamused. “that shit is so ugly. matt is already a nickname. i don’t need another one.”

she does let out a giggle then, patting her face dry. after applying the rest of her products, which matt calls “absolutely ridiculous and too time consuming”, she grabs her phone and makes her way back to her room.

now, if you asked y/n, she’d tell you that this was purely on accident. she would swear up and down that she didn’t mean to step in the view of the camera while she undressed, and would swear up and down that it was the liquor distorting her perception.

but somehow, matt knows (so does she) that she did. when she sets her phone down at the corner of her vanity, only a lightly angled away from her body, she can feel matt’s heavy stare. she strips herself of her skirt, shimmying it down her legs slowly. she replaces it with a pair of loose sleep shorts, about to undo her bra when she swears she hears a grunt from her phone.

she turns, only in said shorts and her barely there, lacy black bra and halts her movements. “oh my fucking god.”

matt raises an eyebrow, “please don’t stop on my account,” there’s an evident smirk. “i was enjoying the show.”

y/n feels her cheeks warm. “yeah i bet you were, pervert.”

“crazy statement from the one set up her phone so i’d see it.” his headphones are discarded and he’s leaning back in his chair, legs spread. “i think you like having me watch you.”

maybe she shouldn’t egg him on, but she can’t help it. not only is she still drunk, but this was what they did. the back and forth. push and pull. it was a quintessential part of the dynamic they had built.

“i think watching is all you’re cut out for.” she leans over, putting her hands on her vanity and looking directly into the camera. “don’t think you’d know what to do with more than that.”

matt sucks his teeth, “that’s a very cute and very wrong assumption.” there’s a beat of unbearably tense silence. “i’d be more than happy to let you find out yourself though.”

y/n lays her phone flat, not being able to continue the game any longer. she undoes her bra and throws on a cute but comfortable tank top. next time she grabs her phone again, she’s in bed. so is matt.

“when we hang out, i’m taking you to homegoods or some shit. that empty ass room pisses me off.”

the laugh matt lets out is soft. “yeah? you gonna buy me wall decor or something?”

“or something. maybe i’ll take you to spencer’s and get you a dick poster.” she giggles to herself, looking across her room before smirking at him. “maybe a matching minion poster?”

he shuts her down immediately. “i’d rather drop dead than have those yellow fucks watching me sleep.”

“jesus, hostility alert. do you ever relax?”

“i’m always on the defense when i’m talking to you, unfortunately.”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” she gives him a doe-eyed look that is nothing short of sarcastic. “i’m so incredibly sweet to you, all the time.”

“the sweetest you’ve ever been was ten minutes ago when you stripped for me.”

y/n’s mouth gapes at that. “god fuck, have some class, matthew.”

matt only shrugs, smile on his face. they don’t speak for a second, but it’s not awkward. his eyes are low and a hazy kind of red, and when he reaches one hand up to rub at them, y/n thinks she sees stars. she has no idea when the image of matt in her head changed, but she’s definitely seeing him now.

they talk for god knows how long, y/n telling matt all about being out tonight and how men are actually the most embarrassing creatures to ever grace the earth. she tells him about how her friend stole a bottle from a random section and then made it up to the dj booth, while she just manically laughed from the dance floor. matt told her that crazy attracts crazy and he’s not surprised in the slightest one of her friends would do something like that. she tells him (fondly) to go to hell.

he tells her all about his day, which consisted of getting high out of his mind with his brothers and watching a shit ton of cartoons. he mentions that chris attempted to make a water bottle bong, despite them having about ten different ways to smoke in front of them. it ended with him damn near melting the water bottle to the nub, setting the smoke alarm off, matt actually punching the fuck out of him and nick running around screaming and fanning the smoke out.

she yawns when comfortable silence hits them, sinking down more in her bed. matt gets up to turn off his overhead light, then switching in his bedside lamp. “what are you doing tomorrow?”

the sleepy girl turns to the calendar hanging on her wall. through bleary eyes and a spinning mind, she sees that tomorrow is completely open.

“nothin’.” another yawn. “why? you wanna take me out?”

matt yawns too. “yeah, if you wanna let me.”

there’s a warm feeling spreading in y/n’s stomach at the way matt is looking at her. as if she’s something he can’t take his eyes off of. as if there’s nothing in the world more important than her. it drives her fucking insane.

“i think i’d like that.” she can feel herself floating in and out of consciousness then, eyes growing heavy.

“don’t tell me you’re falling asleep on me.” his voice sounds just as tired through, no matter how much bite he tries to add.

“oh fuck off, matt.” she mumbles. “i hear you yawning over there too.”

“never,” he says, ever so stubborn. he changes positions slightly, one hand under his head and the other lazily propping his phone up. “don’t hang up.”

the last thing y/n can get out is a low, “wasn’t planning on it, stupid.” before she’s out like a light, the tranquil breathing of the boy she never expected to like lulling her to sleep.

-

when y/n wakes up the next morning she notices two very evident things.

one, she has a slight but persistent headache that requires a gallon of water, immediately. two, is that she in fact fell asleep with matt on facetime.

she checks the time, and although it’s nearing one pm, she can tell matt is still asleep. she thinks his phone fell sometime in the middle of the night by the way her screen is black, so she plugs her phone into the charger before slinking out of bed and brushing her teeth. after she does that and basically inhales three water bottles, she comes back into her room to find the brunette still asleep.

so naturally, she chooses to incite panic.

“matt! oh my fucking god, matt help!” she screams into the speaker of her phone repeatedly. theres a thump followed by a curse and then he’s frantically grabbing his phone.

“what’s going on, sweetheart? are you okay?” his voice is thick with sleep and sounding a lot sexier than she’d like to acknowledge. she also doesn’t let her mind linger on the pet name.

she bursts into laughter at his bewildered state. “oh no, everything’s fine. i just wanted you to get up.”

matt scowls, deep and scalding. “you’re fucking psychotic.”

“i prefer resourceful.”

“i’d prefer if you were locked up.” he stretches, letting out a groan that totally doesn’t send sparks through her body. “what fucking time is it?”

“one thirty.”

“oh fuck you, i had two more hours of sleep in me.”

y/n decides to be direct. “so it’s fuck our plans, huh?”

matt pauses then, looking directly into the camera. “i didn’t think you would remember that.”

she tries not to be offended. it doesn’t work. “oh so you don’t want to hang out?” her tone is clipped. “that’s fine, i don’t care.”

matt laughs his signature ‘you’re-so-unbelievable-it’s-funny’ laugh. “you’re a shit liar.”

“and you’re a dick.”

“maybe so.” he stretches again. “of course i wanna hang out. let me shower and all that shit. send me your address.”

the butterflies slam into her, full affect. oh fuck. is she really gonna meet matt today?

“you’re really apathetic considering you’re about to meet the love of your life today.” she says, because if she doesn’t make a joke, she might die from the anxiety threatening to choke her.

“i am?” he looks at her serious. “where is she? do you know her?”

she flips off the camera. “dick.”

it takes them arguing for five more minutes before they hang up and y/n loses her shit, running rampant around her apartment trying to get ready to meet the man that’s consumed her days for over a month now.

a/n: cliffhanger because this was gonna be really long so THEY MEET NEXT PART!!! it’ll be out tomorrow. things r getting good yall.

TAGS:

@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @hypnotizedsturn @riowritesitall @kitaysworld @h3arts4harry @fikefries @conspiracy-ash @kriissy4gov @matty-bear @always-reading @thehighgrounds

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo texts #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo texts #matt sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #Spotify

[toji-girl]

single dad | t. fushiguro

tags: single mom! fem reader + fluff but not? idk lmao

thinking about you being a single mom meeting Toji at the park because Megumi is best friends with your daughter, and they want to live together so they can always play and be with each other.

you haven't really interacted with him, but you knew that he's been a widow since his son was born. "Why do we need to go now, mom?"

Megumi mirrored her, looking at his dad, who towered next to you, visibly irritated as he stared back at him. "Because it's dinner time."

"Can we eat together?" Your daughter asked, her eyes doe like with a perfect pout too.

you looked over at him and understood why the moms talked about him even though they have husband's at home. "You two can come over."

that's how the four of you ended up in your dining room having a good time. It's felt like forever since it's been this lively and felt lived in.

Megumi and your son went to go play outside, the back double door giving you the chance to watch over them.

Toji sat across from you, making small talk while glancing at the clock knowing he'd have to get Megumi down otherwise the little boy would be bouncing off the walls. "How have you been?" You asked.

green eyes took you in from the other side of the couch, the man was hulking and big, everything about him screamed for all the attention to be paid to him, his corded muscles didn't make you immune.

"Shit. Workin' myself to the bone. You?" his voice was gruff as you struggled to hide your frown, the idea of him struggling pulled on your heartstrings and you wanted to help the only way you knew.

you nodded and patted his hand that rested on his knee before pulling away not wanting to give him any sort of idea. "Same, I'm starting to dream about work, but you know if you or Megumi need anything or you need a break just let me know." You told him gently.

his own heart shuddered in his chest as he stared at you, that warm feeling spread through his entire being, it's been too long since a woman wanted to care for him and not just use him for sex.

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," he replied with his own soft smile just in time for Megumi and your daughter to come running down the hallway giggling and playfully swatting at each other.

Megumi ran over to you first and settled in your arms just as your daughter did snuggling into your touch, the need for a motherly figure in his life has overshadowed everything.

Toji watched the way you tended to both children making them giggle and scream with joy until it was time for them to go, cue meltdowns and begging for Megumi and Toji to stay the night.

you sighed and gave in letting them both take the couches in the living room but before going to sleep the four of you spent more time as a makeshift family, something both kids needed.

#toji x reader #jjk x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x you fluff #toji x reader fluff #Toji Fushiguro fluff #Toji Fushiguro x reader

[astroboots]

Every You Every Me #Issue 5

COLLABORATED WITH @thirstworldproblemss

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You finally catch Spiderman in your bed and try to get answers to the many many questions you have.

Word count: 3,200 words.

Content: Awkward one bed shenanigans, teensy bits of angst

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

You wake to the glare of the morning sun spilling through the curtains.

Your first waking thought is that it. is. so. bright. God, why is it so fucking bright.

Your second thought is that you need to pee. 

There is no third. Because your bladder is killing you. 

There's just one not-so-small problem, and he's lying on top of you, in the same position he fell asleep in last night. Wrapped all around you, clinging on like you're a soft comfort blankie he refused to be weaned off of.

It's not... unpleasant, exactly (your need to pee aside).

For such a large man, being trapped underneath him is more comfortable than you might have expected. He's heavy, sure, but the pressure feels more like a weighted blanket with the way he's draped across your body, arms curled around your waist and back. 

It helps that the sheer size disparity means that you're too small of a surface area for his whole body to cover and most of his weight rests on the mattress. 

Rather than suffocating, it’s almost… cozy.

It must be really early in the morning, because your room is nearly silent. You can’t hear the familiar New York traffic. The noise of honking cars, angry shouting people and screaming cop sirens outside of your window. Instead, in the quiet of the morning the only noise you hear is the sound of his soft snoring against your collarbone.

Before today, you never knew superheroes snore. It’s not the sort of mundane thing you ever think about superheroes doing.

You stare up at him for a minute, soft skin and long lashes fluttering across his cheeks, marveling that he looks so... human. 

Which of course he does. The observation shouldn’t really surprise you. For all the fantastical mythos that surrounds them, at the end of the day, most superheroes are human beings. 

…Unless you're talking about Thor, of course, who’s an actual Viking God. And maybe not Hulk either, because... well... look at him. He’s all green and roided out, you don’t know what he is but he’s certainly not human. And then there’s– Okay, you know what, now that you actually think about it, a lot of superheroes are not human at all.

Maybe that’s why last night took you so much by surprise. You always thought they were invincible. You’d never guess that a slice of coffee cake could bring one down, collapsing as easily like a poorly built house of cards.  

Even more surprised when he’d held onto you, pleading for you to stay. 

When you see the Avengers plastered on the front cover of every newspaper, they look larger than life. When you see Captain America and his star-spangled shield sparkling in the centerfold of the Times, you never really stop to consider, what’s he like when the mask comes off.

In some abstract way, you were aware that superheroes have lives beyond just superheroing. You just never thought about the fact that a lot of them probably have families at home that they worry about. Friends that they care for. People they miss. 

Nena

He'd said.

The person he mistook you for last night.

Something squeezes uncomfortably tight in your chest just remembering the tone in his voice when he said it.

Something is going on here. It's clear to you now even more so than before, that this man doesn’t just keep saving you out of sheer coincidence. There’s a mystery here that’s all tied together in an interconnected web somehow and you're pretty sure it has to do with this Nena person. She is most likely the answer to why your whole life has been upended in the last few months. 

You need to find out what is going on and now that he's physically here, right in front of you, as soon as he wakes you can finally ask him and get some answers that are long overdue. 

You just really need to fucking pee first.

Gingerly, you wedge an arm between your chest and his. You attempt to slowly and carefully pry open the stranglehold he has on you, hoping to scoot up and out of his arms.

He grunts in reply, still soundly asleep, and his arms tighten their hold on you, pulling you back into him as he burrows his face into your chest.

"Five more minutes," he grumbles, voice raspy with sleep. "Nena, it's too early."

There it is again, that nickname. You freeze, holding as still as possible, feeling your heart skip a beat at the tone of his voice as he said it. It’s said with so much fondness and hints at so much familiarity each time he has said it. 

You don't know what you're meant to do in this situation. Except you clearly can’t let him go on thinking you’re… whoever it is that he thinks you are for much longer.

There are the muddy moral implications of allowing this to go on any further after all, considering that the man probably has no idea where he is after you practically roofied him with baked goods.

You also still really need to go pee already.

He shifts against you, one thick, heavy thigh wrapping over your leg and pulling you in further before coming to a rest directly on top of your bladder. Okay, fuck, you take back what you said about this not being unpleasant. This is really, really unpleasant. 

You need him to get up now. 

Forcing your hand free, you reach up to give him a polite tap on the shoulder. When polite doesn’t get you any results, you do it harder, three successive taps, and he still doesn’t even stir. You keep tapping, progressively harder until you’re punching him hard enough that any normal person would be yelping in pain and begging you to stop. 

He groans once, arms shifting to secure his hold on you. For a moment you think he’s going to ask for another ‘five minutes,’ but then the whole of his body goes stiff, every muscle suddenly rigid with tension. A suspended silence permeates the space, and you find yourself holding your breath unsure of what to do next. The silence is broken by the sound of your bedsheets shifting, and you feel the firm hold around your waist ease off, his arms and legs retreating from your body. 

He's up and out of bed in one smooth move, almost faster than you can follow. By the time you struggle upright in bed (much less gracefully) he's already standing a few feet away, hands fisted at his sides. 

“Sorry,” he says, looking at you and then off to the side like he can’t quite bring himself to meet your eyes, a bright flush burning high on his cheeks, “I… uh… I thought you were someone else."

His hulking frame towers over your bed, but he’s acting like a sulky, embarrassed little boy. The contrast should be absurd, but instead you find it… strangely endearing. Apparently even a high and mighty superhero can be brought low by an awkward situation, just like everyone else.

"It's okay. You didn't... um... do anything weird or anything," you say, trying to reassure him, but you can't concentrate on your words when your bladder is screaming bloody murder, "Look, can you give me a second? Just– shit. Just stay right there, okay? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere!" you admonish him, throwing the words over your shoulder as you rush past him and into the bathroom

You nearly break your tailbone with how fast you sit down on the toilet seat, hoping to get your business done as quickly as possible and praying the whole 15 seconds that you’re gone that he won’t make a break for it and still be there when you get back. 

Thankfully, when you nearly tear the bathroom door from its hinges, he is.

The first sight that greets you is his broad and defined back framed by the amber light pouring in from your window frame. It makes for a dramatic image. Golden and majestic, he seems to occupy half the space in your tiny apartment as he stands turned away from you, apparently taking in the view from your one and only window. 

The first thing he says to you as he opens your mouth is not, ‘good morning.’ There's no ‘sorry for almost drunkenly smothering you to death last night,’ ‘how did you sleep with my hulk sized body on top of you’ or even a 'thanks for letting me sleep on your bed.' 

No. Rude, knock off, maybe-vampire Spiderman, who still hasn't told you his name, slowly turns back towards you and takes one look at your face. Then he says, "I have to go."

Which, of course that’s what he’d say and do. Of course. You’re nearly growling with frustration as you run up to him.   

"Wait!" you shout, darting around to block his path as you try to lead him back further into your apartment. "Do you want some breakfast?" 

You still don't know him very well yet, but your few interactions so far have shown you that the way to break through his grumpy defenses is through his stomach.

"I can fix you up something. I’ve got some eggs in the fridge, and I can do scrambled or fried. Maybe over-easy, though I sometimes mess up the timing.” 

You’re rambling on purpose. Speaking as fast as you can, as you continue to pull him towards your kitchen. You’re making sure he can’t get a word in edgewise, so that he doesn’t have a chance to protest before the food is in his stomach, and by then he’ll surely eat the whole thing before he starts getting sassy with you again. By then you’ll hopefully be able to sneak in one or two questions between mouthfuls. 

He shakes his head, "No, I–I have to go... I wasn't supposed to..."

Not a fan of eggs, you note. It makes sense, so far the only thing you've ever seen him eat is baked goods, probably has a sweet tooth.

"I could make you pancakes? I won't even put coffee in them, I promise," you tease gently, hoping the humor might pull a smile from him.

It doesn't. If anything, his eyes look even sadder.

He stops mid-step, and no matter how much of your weight you put in trying to herd and push him towards your kitchen, he won’t budge an inch. You’d have more success moving a bull by its horns, and considering he’s bigger built than one, that tracks. 

There’s no strain in his features, as he stays still, resistant to your efforts. "This is a mistake,” he says. “I should never have gotten involved."

He's moving again, this time away from you, stepping towards the window. Shit, he's going to make a run for it.

In the course of the last 24 hours you've managed to leap off the Chrysler building; poison the superhero standing in front of you; slept with him in the same bed; and yet somehow, through all of this, you still haven't managed to do the one thing you actually wanted: have a simple conversation with him.

"Wait, wait!" you shout out, panicky. "Can we just talk for a second? I really need to talk to you. I just want some answers.”

"I don't have any answers for you," he says. 

He's turned his back again, one hand on the window sill as he's preparing to climb onto it. If you let him leap off it now, you don’t know when your next chance will be to catch him again. 

"I'm not going to stop trying," you shout out in a last desperate attempt and that finally stops him in his tracks. 

“I’m gonna be leaving,” he says with a finality in his words. 

It doesn’t stop you though, doesn’t even discourage you. He might be stubborn, but you can give him a run for his money, because this is your life on the line.  

“Then I’ll run after you. I’ll keep chasing after you. I'll keep asking, and asking, and asking. I'm not going to stop until you give me some answers."

There’s a silence between you again. Then he straightens his posture, and turns his head just far enough that you can catch his eyes. Whatever uncertainty was there before fades away as you see the resolve in his eyes harden.

"You're never going to see me again."

There's an ugly noise. A scratch over the vinyl of a record screeching in your brain that makes you unable to comprehend his words. You have to replay them in your mind, parsing them out, before you realize what he's actually telling you.

“Wait, what do you mean never see you again!?” you step forward towards the window sill, and he visibly retreats at your advance. “As in, you're going to back to avoiding me? It’s kind of late for that, isn't it? I've seen your face... twice. We’ve slept together!"

"No," he answers brusquely, brows pulled in at a sharp angle. “I'm leaving the… area. I'm not going to be around anymore."

“But you’ll be back… right?” you ask. Some corner of your brain refuses to accept what you think he’s telling you. 

With a graceful movement, he leaps back down from the window sill, taking a step forward and leaning in until he’s looming over you, his face inches from your own. 

“No,” he repeats, emphasizing the word.

Oh… 

His words finally click. It took a few attempts for the stubborn gear in your brain to unjam, but you finally hear what he’s been trying repeatedly to tell you.

He’s leaving for good. He’s not coming back. 

You… You don’t know how you feel. Your cheeks are strangely numb. Somehow the idea that he might not be around indefinitely had never occurred to you. You’ve grown accustomed to the safe haven he’s provided. Come to rely on him and the familiar safety of his shadow lurking around every corner, the blurred blue and red rescuing you from this crazy world trying to kill you. 

A flash of cold sweat breaks out along your back. His presence is your only anchor to safety. If he’s not here… 

"But– but– if you leave…” You trail off, barely able to imagine it.

All the near-misses flash through your mind. The taco truck stampeding through the city, the subway train barrelling towards you, construction sites crashing down right above your head. So many deaths held at bay by the one man in front of you, and if he leaves… If he’s gone…

You can barely choke out the next words, your voice a strangled whisper, “...what’s going to happen to me?”

A flash of anguish breaks through his stony features before he turns away, dropping his gaze to his feet. Pained sadness bleeds into those crimson eyes, something that speaks of guilt, loss and defeat. 

"I’m sorry," he says quietly, "I can't save you. I never could. Nothing can."

And what can you say to that? You can’t force him to do more for you than he already has. He’s done a lot—much more than anyone has to, superhero or not, and you know that—and it’s selfish of you to ask more.

You swallow down the anxiety crawling up your throat and it tastes like burnt bile. 

Anyone would be lucky to have a superhero save them from certain death even once in their lifetime, and somehow you've been blessed with more times than you can count. 

In fact, you’ve been spoiled rotten, managing to escape death so many times that you've grown almost… complacent about it. Expecting him to rescue you, when really you've been living on borrowed time for months now, winning one lottery ticket after another. You've had more extra time than anyone could ever wish for.

In front of you, you see him moving again. If you let him go like this, then this is it. This is where it all ends. Without him, it’s only a matter of time before death catches up with you again—for good this time.

You shake your head, refusing the defeat. It may be selfish, greedy even, but this is your life and you can’t let it end here.

You don’t want to die. You made a promise to yourself when you fell out of the Chrysler building for the first time. 

You want to live. You want to live. You want to live. 

"Wait! Please..." You grab onto his hand, and even though you have no doubt he could break free from your desperate grip with very little effort, he stops for you.

"I don't know what's going on! Every day I walk out that door, and almost die again and again and again. I'm scared and confused, and it seems like the universe is hellbent on killing me, and you're the only clue I've got as to why. The only reason I'm still alive is because you keep saving me. I know that it’s selfish to ask you this, because you don’t owe me anything. But…” 

You pause, drawing in a deep breath, and say the words with your whole chest, “I want to live!”

He doesn’t quite flinch, but the hand at his side twitches and then he’s reaching up to you. So close, you can almost feel his knuckles grace the side of your cheek. Then he stops, a fraction of an inch from your face. 

He tilts his head to the side, like he’s listening to something you can’t hear.

Must be some other emergency your unfriendly neighborhood Spider-man needs to be on his way to. You try to push down the unexpected envy boiling in your stomach at the thought. 

Although… now that you’re listening, you can hear something too. Something like the low hum of a helicopter, growing louder all the time. 

Must be a police chopper. Traffic ‘copters aren’t allowed to fly so low.

Abruptly, the light flees your apartment. Shadow sweeps across your window and covers everything in pitched darkness. 

A blackout? But it's morning, even if the power went out, the sun should still be–

You feel it before you see it in the dark, a tight grip on your wrist pulling you. His arm slams across your waist, yanking you backwards.

The world lurches around you, receding with a deafening roar of collapsing concrete and shrieking metal. The last thing you see is the wall of your apartment disappearing in a cloud of dust and twisted metal.

Your stomach drops sickeningly. Bright light flashes across your vision in intense rainbow-colored bursts. Pink. Red. Green. Blue. You have to close your eyes as wind whips mercilessly against your cheeks, loud impossible roaring in your ears.

Is this death? Somehow you thought it would be quieter. Calm.

Still.

And then it is. Everything stops, and when you finally dare open your eyes again, there’s…

Nothing.

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my lovely collaborator @thirstworldproblemss who is always staying up brainstorming with me, listen to my insane ramblings, plotting each scene in the outlines and helping me beta and edit and even rewrite large chunks of paragraphs I'm unhappy with til the very last minute. Truly my favorite person in all of the lands. I love you!!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

[ayedafuq]

Hamzah imagine I’m sorry god

POV: You got invited up to Toronto by your friend (Y/F) who hangs in the same circle as the Slushy Noobz crew, u n Hamzah meet at a party, get a little too tipsy, and you flirt just a taaaad .

——

(Y/F) : bitch come out the room and DRINK

Currently hiding away in her room (where I’ve been a freeloader for the past 2 days), I see Y/F’s text to come and join the pregame she’s having in her living room. She moved from our hometown to Toronto, a place I haven’t been before this, and I’m visiting her for the week. I came up on Wednesday and after our playful time catching up together for the past two days, she decided it’d be a good idea to go out with some of the friends she made. She currently has about 8 people in her living room playing drinking games, and I’m sitting on the floor staring into her full body mirror, ready to go to the bar, nervous as FUCK about meeting her friends.

After ignoring her text for approximately 30 seconds, she comes into the room. “OOOO GURRRRL YOU LOOKIN GOOOOOD” she says. I know she knows I’m nervous.

“Wait close the door” I say to her, and she does. “Dude, what if they don’t like me.” My anxiety is clearly getting the best of me.

“Fuck do you mean what if they don’t like you? You’re quite literally my twin. If they don’t like you then I’ll KNOW they secretly don’t like me. And they love me, so chill the fuck out. Get up” she picks me up out off the ground and pulls me out into her living room.

“Guess who’s heeeerrrree” she says to the group, and they all start to cheer. “There she is!” One of the girls says. A guy chimes in, “The visitor has arrived!”

Y/f drags me around the party to share names, my nerves subsiding. Everyone here is really nice. Why was I even worried?

“Hey, I’m Mandy. I work at the animal shelter with y/f. I’ve heard so much about you!” The girl says. I reply telling her I’ve heard about her too. “Y/f says the only reason she goes there is to pet animals and hang out with you” I tell her. “Yea sounds about right, I do the same thing.”

Me, Mandy and Y/f chat for a couple minutes sharing some laughs and stories, until the guy who chanted earlier and his friend come up. “Y/n, this is my boyfriend Martin. And this is Hamzah, avoid him.”

I give my hellos and introduce myself to Martin. We banter for a quick second before I turn to Hamzah. “Hellooo, I’m Y/n.” I give him a quick smile he returns. “Hey Y/n, how do you like Toronto so far?”

Before I can even answer, Y/f interrupts. “I’m gonna need you guys to shut up and grab a drink. We’re leaving for the bar in 30, and me and Y/n still need to demolish half the party in flip cup. Grab two seltzers from the fridge” she tells me. “You better lock in, I told everyone you never miss a flip.”

—

Two hours later and we’re at the bar, and it’s safe to say I’m feeling preeeetty nice. Her friends are so sweet, and I can’t help but feel so happy that she found these people.

Mandy, y/f, Hamzah and I are standing by a high top table, and I take the liberty in sharing some stories of me and y/f from parties in high school.

“When I tell you I turned my head for 3 seconds and y/f was gone, I mean it. I’m running through the party like a chicken without a fucking head, looking like a maniac asking everyone where she is. Mind you, I’m like 17 and hammered, so I was probably acting like the hulk.”

“Jesus Christ y/n don’t..” she says.

“After 10 minutes where do I find this bitch? Asleep in this random bitch’s closet with her head, quite literally, in a bucket.”

Hamzah and Mandy are cracking up. “You didn’t even know who threw the party?” Hamzah asks between laughs.

“Not a fucking clue. Y/f felt right at home though” I say, giggling myself.

“Girl I hate you, but yea I did. That bucket was my crib. Need to go to the bathroom?” Y/f asks me.

I tell her I’m alright for now, and Mandy tells her she needs to go so they scurry off together.

“Wow, so you guys have been friends for a while huh?” Hamzah says, still smiling from the story.

“Yea, we’ve been through a lot together. She’ll never get rid of me I fear” I say back.

“Damn, that’s awesome. Y/f is super cool, I’m happy she moved up here. When’s it your turn?” He says, his smile becoming more of a smirk. It hasn’t gone over my head that this kid is fucking adorable, but hes been acting pretty shy all night. The sly comment took me by surprise.

“Man I wish I could. It’s been on my mind a lot since she moved here” I reply.

“What’s stopping you?” He asks.

“I guess I’m just scared. It’s a big move, and she’s got the balls to do it. I’m not sure I do.”

“I felt the same way too, I pretty much hauled ass across the country of Canada at 18. I lived out of my car for a bit actually, it was a nightmare. I’d do it all again though, it was the best decision I’ve made. If I could do it, a pretty girl like you could too.”

Pretty girl?

“Pretty girl?” I say back, a little smug. The drinks are getting to me I fear.

“I’m sorry, was that weird?” He gets a little shy again. I giggle to let him know it wasn’t.

“Not at all. Thank you, pretty boy” I playfully shove his arm. I cringe in my head. I gotta be fucking kidding.

“Pretty boyyy I see I see” he says with a smile. “You think I’m a pretty boy?”

“Only a little bit. Like, this much” I pinch my fingers together the closest I can without having them touch.

“Well, thiiiis pretty boy” he mimics my fingers, “thinks you should move to Toronto thiiiis much” he separates them a little more. “Because he’d like to see you more thiiiiis badly” he separates them as far as he can. Damn, he has nice hands.

“Wow that’s pretty badly” I respond. Thank god I have makeup on because this cheesy shit might be making me blush.

“Yea, it’s alarming. Think about it, pretty girl” he tilts his head towards me playfully as he says pretty girl, getting a little close and then backing his head away swiftly. His smirk is fully activated and the eye contact we’re making is pretty hot. I smile back at him with my tongue touching my canine (do yk what I’m talking about like that lil sexy smile), tilting my head slightly to the side as if to say oh, ur flirting with me, noted. and just as I’m about to respond, y/f and Mandy return from the bathroom.

“Stop harassing her Hamzah she’s never gonna want to come back” Mandy says. “Come on, we’re gonna go back to y/f’s and play drinking games. This bar is boring.”

Hamzah follows after Mandy, glancing back at me quickly with a cheeky smile before turning his head. Y/f gets in my ear.

“Hamzah likes you. Mandy can tell. She told me in the bathroom.”

—-

Okay guys hi this is like so bullshit but I was feeling playful idk I hope you enjoyed if you made it this far

-ayev

#hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzah imagines

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-Five

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None

Notes: Holy shit I’m back and boyyyyy does it feel good! I missed you guys and I can’t thank you enough for the love and support🥹 Jasper and Reader need to go through this icky before getting back to normal and going through the craziness of Eclipse. This made me fuzzy on the inside to write because it’s healing this shit Bella and Edward never went through but needed to lol

Word Count: 2125

Series Masterlist

• March 24th, 2006 • Forks HS •

Reader

Two days.

Forty-eight hours since I told Jasper Hale I needed time, space. Insane, really. Insane that even though he’s gravity, he’s in every thought scrolling through my brain, I asked him for the very thing my heart abhors. The very thing my brain needs.

It’s exhausting, my rational brain warring with my irrational heart. He’s here, he’s home, I just need to soak up every second. But on the other hand… for how long? We still have the same issue - my humanity and his control.

My hand shuts my locker door not-so-softly and I stare at my fingers on the cold metal. They could be touching cold skin instead- fuck, this stupid beating organ in my chest.

Frustration drives me to dig my phone out of my pocket as the bell for fourth period rings, the hallway behind me emptying out quickly.

He answers on the second ring and relief loosens the knot in my chest fractionally.

“Hey girly, what’s up?” Quil’s chipper tone brings a grin to the corner of my lips.

“Kidnap me? Please?”

He must hear the desperation in my voice, since he agrees immediately. “Absolutely, I’ll be there in twenty.” A shout of protest echoes in the background and he apologizes quickly, he was in class I can’t just ask him to- “Lunch?” He asks, jogging now by the puffs of his breath.

“Quil, that's a thirty minute drive-” I protest, worried.

“And you need rescuing, figure out what you want for lunch.” He ends the call abruptly as the squeaky door to his junky old car opens.

Sighing at my phone, I pocket it and turn towards my next class. I can survive until he gets here, right? I’ve been climbing the walls for the last two days, the object of my thoughts noticeably absent from school.

That’s a good thing, right? He’s doing what I asked, allowing me the space I need to think clearly, without his persuasion.

When in all actuality, I can’t help but feel like the walls are shrinking.

He’s here, he’s home, he said he wasn’t going anywhere, his family is still here.

The affirmations trickle over my buzzing skin.

I saw Alice in second period. Emmett is sitting behind my empty seat in Trig - I just have to walk through the door.

How the fuck am I going to move forward, to figure out a solution with Jasper, if I’m also trying to tackle their abandonment?

I might as well be trying to move forward through mud - thick, dark, and fucking everywhere.

My phone vibrates about fifteen minutes before the end of class, I don’t dare pull it out of my pocket to confirm that it’s Quil.

My hand raises and immediately catches Mr. Varner’s gaze in the quiet classroom, “Yes, miss Y/l/n?”

“May I run to the bathroom, please?” I ask, trying to keep the sudden impatience out of my voice.

His nod is all I need to pack away my items quickly, behind me I hear the groan of the desk supporting the hulking frame of my other best friend.

“Y/n, what are you-” Emmett’s hushed whisper makes my pulse jump.

“I’ll be safe, promise.” I whisper back and practically run for the door.

A chair squeaks and Mr. Varner calls out, “Mister Cullen, she does not require assistance finding the ladies room, sit down.”

I flash him an apologetic smile as he slowly retakes his seat before I push the door open. I feel horrible, but I need the freedom waiting for me in the student parking lot.

Sprinting through the exterior double doors, a full-on smile overtakes my face as Quil leans over the center console to open the passenger door, “Hop in, loser!”

Sitting in the parking lot facing First Beach with the windows rolled down, munching on cheap burgers and fries, I feel like I can finally take a deep breath.

“Okay,” setting down his shake to begin his interrogation, I brace. “Not that playing hookie isn’t the best idea ever to kick off the weekend, but what’s wrong?”

“He’s back.” I stare at the last few bites of my burger as I set it down in my lap, the paper crinkling loudly.

“He as in-”

“Jasper.”

“Oookaaay,” he draws out the vowels, not really following the obvious dilemma. “You wanted him to come back, right? I mean, you were a fucking mess the last six months.”

“Yes I wanted him to come back! I just-” I hesitate, “I just don’t know how to feel about it.”

“If my boyfriend-” I level a look on him that he ignores, “He’s yours, hook, line, and sinker - c’mon. If my boyfriend up and abandoned me, and I hadn’t gotten over it in six fucking months, suddenly is back in my life, what’s there to feel other than relief? A reprieve from what you’ve been feeling without him?”

“Since when do you know-”

“Stop deflecting, I’m here to solve this shit because my best friend needs help.” He’s munching on fries like this is goddamn entertainment. “Answer. Now.” This fucking fucker.

“Fine.” I puff out a breath and stare at the waves. “We’re still in the same situation he left me in-”

“The situation you won’t tell me about?”

“Yes.” The exasperation in my tone brokers no room for argument on the subject, so I move on. “I feel like the rug is going to be yanked out from underneath me because of it. There’s no way, over or through this mountain, it’ll always be there.”

“Mountains wither over time; if creeks can be persistent enough to become rivers, then so can you. I don’t know what this mountain looks like, but have you ever asked him for help to explore it? To find a path in the trees one step at a time?”

I look at him, gobsmacked. He makes it sound so easy.

“Don’t look at me like that, I may not have experience, but I can tell you what I feel like is right. And it feels right to just talk to him. I can tell you what to do all day until I’m blue in the face, but only he can reassure you in ways no one else can.” The empathy in his face makes my eyes sting, fuck he’s right.

“You are a treasure, you know that Quil Ateara?” I give him a sad smile trying to reign in my stupid tears, reaching for his hand.

He gives it to me and squeezes, “Of course,” he says it like it’s as obvious as grass being green. “And someday I’ll be as wrecked about a girl and you can regurgitate this shit back to me.” His shit-eating grin contains a little mustard in the corner and I bust out laughing.

“Ancestors help her, she’ll have to put up with a lot when it comes to you.” I tease and he winks.

“I’m nothing but a hoot, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cranking his museum piece of a car, he turns it in the direction of his house and we leave today’s worries in the sand to be washed away with the tide.

•March 24th, 2006 • Forks Community Hospital•

Jasper

The swish of the automatic front doors of the hospital snap me from the thoughts pinging around in my brain. The cold crystal in my hand gathering condensation brings me back to my mission.

Striding down the familiar hallway that contains Carlisle’s office, I stop at the door displaying his name. Peeking inside to confirm my hearing, my adoptive father is definitely absent from his worn leather chair. No matter, procrastination won’t win me anything.

Continuing down the hallway, my steps are nearly silent as the nurse’s station comes into view with the object of my mission sitting alone behind a massive monitor.

“It’s after visitation hours, you’ll have to come back-” She finally raises her eyes and her sentence peters off quietly, “tomorrow-Jasper?”

Y/n’s mother stands from her chair as she registers my face, eyes falling to the bouquet of flowers set in one of Esme’s many crystal vases.

“Take this one, she’ll know you mean business.” Esme deposited the vase on the kitchen counter in front of me this morning while I was lost in thought on how to talk to Y/n’s mom. Apparently flowers are still the way women prefer their apologies.

“Y/n is still at the Reservation-” She starts, assuming it’s her daughter the flowers are for.

“I know.” Placing the arrangement Rosalie helped me with on the counter, I turn my supernatural gift inward and mellow out my nerves. “These are for you, ma’am.”

“Oh.” Surprise fills the air as her speechlessness pulses for a few seconds, the beeping of heart rate monitors echo around us. “You didn’t have to-” Gasping, her eyes narrow when they meet mine, weariness floods her senses. “You’re not asking-”

I chuckle, knowing what this looks like, “No ma’am, I’m here to apologize.”

Nerves fill my throat in an unfamiliar sensation for a reason not related to this apology, she thought I was asking to marry her daughter.

I store that thought away in the recesses of my mind, I can’t even begin to fall down that rabbit hole of complication.

“I’m not the one who needs an apology.” Her tone is soft as she plucks at a deep red rose petal.

“Your daughter will get an apology from me for the rest of my life, if she chooses to let me continue to be in hers.” That grabs her attention again. “You deserve one too, you were with her when I wasn’t and it put an immense amount of unwarranted stress on you both. I hope you accept my sincerest apology, even if you decide I’m not worth your good graces.” I take a deep breath and speak from the heart with my next words. “In September I was given a challenge that I failed and it rocked my world in a way I’m not even sure I know how to handle even now. I thought that if I simply removed myself, she could continue on like she had before we met. I know now… I know now that was not the answer and it never will be.”

I notice her eyes begin to turn a little misty as she processes my words and it wrenches a little something in my chest, I didn’t want to make her mom cry.

“She makes me want to be better, do better.” I glance at the empty hallway, quiet this late in the afternoon. “I want to be someone she’s proud of, someone worthy of her, no matter how hard it is. I want you to be able to trust me with her, which is why it was important to tell you how sorry I am.”

After a moment of surveying my face, pure joy radiates from her pores as she rounds the end of the desk to face me fully.

“Of course I accept your apology,” she envelops me in what would be a bone crushing hug, “thank you.”

Relief courses through me as we separate, glad I decided to do this.

“I appreciate your apology and these gorgeous flowers,” she rubs my shoulder in such a soothing mom-manner before leveling me with a no-kidding look. “Whatever my daughter decides, goes.”

“Absolutely,” completely serious, “I am at her mercy and if she wants nothing to do with me, I’ll respect that.”

“I knew you were a good one.” She winks at me before returning to her seat with a smile. “Your dad should be finished with afternoon rounds, now that you got the hard part of your visit over.”

“It’s never hard, talking to a pretty lady.” Now it’s my turn to wink, she responds with a genuine laugh that makes me smile.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister Hale.” I take my leave as she resumes her typing.

Navigating back to my father’s office, I drop myself with relief into the chair in front of his immaculate desk.

“I’m pleased that went well, you did good.” He doesn’t even glance up at me, but the smile and his emotions oozing happiness tell me I did something right for once.

“One down, one to go.” I lean my head back in the chair and close my eyes, allowing myself to feel the relief of winning her mother over again.

“One down, one to go.” He repeats back, his smile evident in his voice.

I needed this win. I needed to succeed at something with this balled up mess in my chest.

Now I just need her.

Next

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @Timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale fanfiction #redamancy series #jasper hale x female!reader #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #twilight #bless-my-demons #jasper hale #female reader insert

[undercoverpena]

favours and antics

matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: alludes to smut, fwb, written on phone be aware: spoiler-ish for she-hulk episode 8, slight mention to this episode in relation to our whorey-devil

masterlist

It wasn’t that you were jealous, but you couldn’t deny your heart sunk when Foggy said Matt was out of town.

Your beer suddenly not hitting the same spot.

The music not thrumming through your bones in the way it usually does.

Your smile more forced.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love Foggy or Karen, but the evening did not seem nearly as fun. Not that you could say it, not with how Foggy stared at you when Karen explained what he was doing out of town. A case, she explained. Likely flirting up a storm, is what else she’d added.

You’d become good at hiding your emotions, able to apply a mask of your own before you show too much.

Because Foggy doesn’t understand.

Hell, sometimes you’re not even sure you understand.

Even if you were the one who made Matt agree to just be friends, although it’s your body occasionally betraying you.

Friends.

Not even really lovers.

Just people who are friends that occasionally fuck. It was simple. Easy. No complicated feelings and relationship demands.

He lives his life, you live yours.

Even if feelings try to ruin it. Your work allowing you to bury yours, using work as an escape; Matt doing whatever Matt does between lawyering and vigilantism.

You try not to think about it.

Because he’s great with people. He’s a flirt. Someone who truthfully doesn’t have time for a whole other person in his life, and yet rarely is ever on his own.

Which is why it’s easy to slide into his arms. The flirting growing either over a game of pool, a few too many beers, or even a bad day. It should end there, but it never does.

You always finding yourself kissing him, letting your fingers undo shirt buttons as you run palms over healing wounds and scars. His hands freeing skin, kissing every inch, running his teeth over collarbones.

All of which is the very reason you’d been avoiding him—until the bar the other night. Hoping to ask him a favour then, with people around.

Not like this.

Not in his office.

His small, well-lit office, with no one else even around to interrupt.

He also looked good, annoyingly good. That sweet smile doing a number on you before he even said hello. Your hands diving inside your bag, needing something to do.

“Foggy said you were disappointed I was out of town when you met for drinks?

Fucking Foggy, the gossip.

You smile. “Well, I’d hoped to ask you for a favour.”

“I see.”

“How…” you ask, pushing your hair from your shoulder, “um, was your business trip?”

He smiles, likely reading straight through your words. The way you nervously asked.

His fucking gift making it easy to know all your secrets.

“Interesting. A little different than New York.”

Your eyes narrow because you noticed the infliction. That same pang filling your chest from the bar, one you try to quickly swallow. Trying not to replay the way he said interesting with that smug voice.

“The bars as good?” you ask, your jealously bubbling. Remembering Foggy calling, telling you and Karen that he’d heard him out. “I was with Foggy still, he’d said you were at a bar.”

His hand moves to his hips, his lips sliding up into one of those smirks. One you suspect he uses on everyone he wants to woo.

Because he knows what he does to a person. He’s not stupid. He’s whispered it in your ear before. That he can hear your heartbeat. How it quickened when his hand steadied your hip as he stood behind you at the pool table.

“You sound awfully jealous there, sweetheart?”

You lick your lips. Thinking of how best to respond, when you realise it’s better if you don’t.

“Anyway, as I said, I need a favour. I have a situation with a client of mine—I know you just travelled for a favour but…”

Your words slowly dying as you watch his hand outstretched, moving from his hip. Handing him the file—the one you’d already had put in Braille, something which seemed to make him smile when his fingers brushed over it.

Even if you’re trying not to let it bother you, his smile warms you. You busily trying to fill him in on the complaint, his head occasionally tilting as you talk, finger running across the papers.

You give him a minute—one that feels like an hour.

Able to smell his aftershave, all wooden and musky, the scent which has clung to your skin on many occasions. One which rushes memories and feelings, making your chest tighten.

“So, can you help?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

You let out a soft breath, closing your bag. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

“No problem, we’re friends after all, aren’t we?”

You glare, sighing, before nodding. Because you know what he’s getting at. While also knowing in his freaky way, he can sense your nod, likely even your annoyance at his word choice, turning to the door as he speaks again.

“And, if you ever fancy being reminded of how friendly we can be, you don’t need to wait to meet me at a bar to find out. You can call me.”

Letting your hand fall from the door handle, you look over your shoulder. His hand on his hip, suit jacket pushed back from his waist; the glasses removed, that shit-eating smirk on his face.

For a second, you just stare at him.

Both in admiration and in annoyance, the two swirling together as he moves around his desk. The room suddenly feeling smaller, the air tighter.

Asshole.

Beautiful, handsome asshole.

And then he’s behind you. Enough of a gap left for you to open the door, to leave.

But close enough to stop you if he wanted to.

So you straighten your spine, applying your best smirk. “I don’t think you have it in you to fuck me like I need, Murdock. But, if I fancy having an itch scratched that my vibrator can’t hit, I’ll call.”

Before you can even reach for the handle, his hand presses the door into the frame, eyes narrowing when you look back at him.

“Friends don’t barricade friends in offices.”

“Friends also don’t lie to their other friends about how good they make them feel.”

You glare. “Are you telling me I’m wrong?” you continue. “Or are you trying to tell me your LA hook up didn’t scratch that itch, I’m sure you can find someone at Josie’s?”

He laughs. “Oh, no they definitely did. Just wasn’t sure if you needed the reminder of how good we are together.”

He feels closer, even if neither of you have moved. His presence alone growing greater.

“I remember. I also remember last time you leaving immediately after. Donning a leather suit and climbing onto roofs,” you say, turning to face him, standing to the side of the door. “I’ve had men leave, don’t get me wrong, never out of their own window, so no, I don’t want a reminder.”

He smirks, but it’s not the same as before.

Even less so as he closes the small gap between you both, pressing your spine against the wall, arm sliding over from holding the door in place to beside your head—even if you’ve long abandoned the idea of leaving.

“You want to repeat that?”

You don’t.

Not as your mind begins to run away from you. Thoughts of him pressing his body against you, feeling how firm it was; sinful ideas of him fucking you on his desk, a neutral ground for the two of you—except harmless flirting.

All the while trying to control your body, not wanting your cheeks to flush, your heart to race, or even let your body sweat from the longing and thought of him doing unholy things to you.

Because for a man of god, he didn’t fuck like one.

Even with your cockiness, your faux confidence and nonchalance, you knew there was no way you could truthfully say he didn’t know how to fuck a person. He did. And the fucking man knew it.

His free hand took your chin, tilting your face up to his—a little firmer than normal. “Care to share what’s gotten you so quiet?”

You swallow, instantly hating yourself for it.

Knowing he heard it. Just like you think he knows you’re trying to rub your thighs together. Especially when he slides his own knee between your legs.

“You sure you don’t want that reminder?”

“I’m not a toy, Matthew.”

He smiles, thumb stroking the side of your lips. “Shame. If you were, I’d play with you all the time.”

You let your eyes flick over his face, knowing his words shouldn’t work. They shouldn’t.

But they do.

“Drop your bag, sweetheart.”

You lift your chin. “Why?” you ask. Aiming for it to come out as more of a blunt question, than a breathy reply.

His fingers slide from your chin along your jaw, moving his face closer. “Just do it.”

And you do.

Both from the way his lips almost ghost over yours and the demand in his voice. His other hand, the one you’re rarely paying attention to, slides over your hip, sliding around and over the slope of your ass.

You just watch, not sure if you should stop it, leave, put the distance between the two of you that you think you both need. Or stay. Stay and likely defile his office.

“Stop thinking,” he whispers darkly, gripping your ass through your trousers, pulling your hips flush against his. “You’re not going to go.”

You swallow, lifting your hands, sliding them over his hips, fingers slowly untucking his shirt from inside his trousers.

Watching him, the way his jaw tightens, his lips occasionally twitch between a smile and a smirk. His lips still close, but you haven’t moved,—even if you want to.

Even if that want is obvious to him and his senses, feeling your own arousal when you clench your thighs together.

“You can k—“

You don’t let him finish, kissing him. Hearing him groan, it vibrating against your lips, feeling his grip on your cheek tighten. Your back more forcibly being pressed against the door as your fingers slide to the front of his trousers, toying with the idea of loosening his belt.

Almost ready to undo it, to give in, to surrender.

And then you hear the main office door open, both of you pausing, not wanting to move until you hear laughter and then:

“Matt?” Foggy’s voice calling out, yanks you both apart. “I brought you food.”

Your heart in your throat, eyes burning into Matt’s—watching the colour drain from his cheeks as he licks his lips.

“I’ll go—“

“No,” he says, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair as Foggy calls out again. “Yeah, cool. Thanks, Fog… I’ll be… I’ll be out in a minute.”

He reaches his hand out, taking your elbow and your attention. “Come to mine. Tonight.”

You arch your brow. “You gonna leave out a window again?”

“No, I’ll be too busy.”

“Busy?”

He smirks, moving his lips close to your ear. “You’ll see tonight, sweetheart.”

Your body goes warm as he kisses your cheek, your hand reaching for the door handle as his fingers slowly release your elbow.

“Matt,” you whisper. His head turning in your direction. “If I leave tonight knowing my own name, you’ve failed.”

His smirk broadened. “Oh, sweetheart. You aren’t leaving tonight.”

His hand turning the door handle instead of allowing you a chance to reply, adrenaline thumping through you as you follow.

#matt murdock #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x reader smut #matt murdock x fem!reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #matt murdock x female reader #daredevil x fem!reader #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x reader smut

[voidandabyssal]

Hi, I came across one of you're post and I loved how you write! I was hoping to out in a request!

So in this, could I ask for undertale sans, underfell sans, underswap papyrus, and horrortale sans? In this, they are with reader out in puplic (you can choose whatever) and while reader talks to them, they see in the corner of their sockets, somone reaching into readers purse/backpack and steals their wallet, behind readers back. How would they react and what would they do?

Again, I like you're writing but if you are to busy, don't worrie about putting this out immediately!

Thank you for the compliment, I hope I live up to your standards!

Sans:

Subtly makes the thief fall on his face and drop your wallet

Then just non chalently floats your wallet back into your bag

He prefers to avoid conflict rather than face it head on

Though he does take a little joy in watching the guy eat dirt

Then Sans just swings his arm around your shoulder and walks away, easy as pie

You probably dont even notice the whole thing has happened

Luckily for the thief, because Sans would also call Undyne if the guy kept giving you trouble

Red (uf sans):

Reds not the type of guy to just let it happen

Or resolve it peacefully like Sans

He grabs the thiefs hand, crushing it in his grip

The thief quickly runs away not even risking taking your wallet with him

Red would also loudly yell after him, threats and insults and whatnot

He does not care what everyone else thinks

Letting something like that go in the Underground would almost guarantee being made an target for anyone looking for easy exp

So he’s making sure everyone knows not to mess with you

You will have to calm him down afterwards. Stop him from chasing the guy down for a proper battle

Maybe with a kiss?

Stretch (us paps):

Also another one of the boys who prefers a calmer approach

He wraps his arm around your waist and drags you just out of the thief’s reach

Stretch glares at the thief, lighting one of his sockets with a menacing yellow eye-light

Blows smoke into the thief’s face as well

Stretch seems lazy, and he is. But he really does care for people, if he has to put a little energy into scaring off some low life loser then he will

You notice him doing this and happily press a kiss against his cheekbone.

Stretch blushes before dragging you over to Muffets, he needs some honey😅

Axe (ht sans):

Props to whoever has the guts to rob you while ace is around

I mean??? He’s a hulking 6’0 skeleton Monster with a resting bitch face?? Why would you tempt

Well, to whoever this brave fool is, they have just made a horrible mistake

Axe grabs their wrist, lifts them into the air and snaps said wrist in half

He’s holding onto you tightly, making sure you don’t see what he just did to that poor criminals hand

A small crowd gathers around you and him, some people are calling the police, most are just staring in shock

Shit.

Aliza is going to be so pissed at him.

He drops the the thief and shortcuts back home with you (even though he shouldn’t be shortcutting anymore due to his head injury)

The day ends with some heavy lectures from your more responsible friends and some cuddles between you and Axe

#undertale #undertale au #sans x reader #undertale headcanons #sans undertale #papyrus x reader #voidimagines #horrortale #underswap #underfell

[chubbyreaderchan]

Pinky Promises | Michael Myers x F!Reader | MDNI 18+

A/n: Michael and (Y/n) finally passionately hug each other and mush bathing suit areas but it is marked where it starts if you just wanna know what happens next without the spice. 

Warnings: Canon typical violence with probably too graphic a description, size kink, p in v, allusion to oral sex f receiving, Michael Myers is a virgin, Y/n is not but he’s a big boy, he does not give a fuck, and charges on through, unprotected sex, uhhh the mask stays on, Michael cums a lot cuz i’m gross. oh and his favorite cereal is Sugar Pops because the 60′s had sucky cereal.

1, 2, 3, 4 (Release unknown if at all, lemme know if you want a part 4?) 

With pinkies locked, (Y/n) felt like she did all those years ago with little Michael, her best friend. The one she had always wanted to be with. Here he was with her, blood coating her skin. His head cocked to the side and his breathing was shallow behind the latex. He was so close to her that she could smell the copper and the sweat that came off of the towering man. 

She moved her hand from his strong grip, rubbing the blood on the once pristine white towel around her body. Her mind was screaming at her that he was dangerous. That he would kill her. He was a monster covered in blood. 

But her heart still saw the eyes of the little boy she knew so long ago. (Y/n) still cared for Michael, perhaps she only cared for her precious memories. The words that fell from her lips felt foreign. They echoed as if someone else was saying them inside of her head. 

“Are… you going to kill me, Michael?” she said. 

He was a confused puppy as if he hadn’t heard those words uttered before. His head cocked to one side and then slowly to the other. He did not raise his knife to stab her, in fact, the voice in his head didn’t seem interested in killing her. 

Michael’s bloodied hand reached out and gripped her waist. His hand trailed up her body as if he was confused by the shape of it. Something in his mind snapped when his calloused fingers brushed the side of her breast. Something Michael hadn’t felt before, deep in his stomach, in his chest, and loins. 

“Michael, you can’t touch me there. I--” 

She grabbed his wrist and pushed him off of her torso. 

“I know I promised Michael, but I’m engaged,” 

(Y/n) swallowed, glancing at the knife in his hand. 

“Listen, why… don’t you clean up. I’ll get dressed and we can talk,” 

She expected him to stay in place when she moved forward but he sidestepped and gracefully slipped into the spot she was in. 

--

(Y/n)’s hands tremmored as she pulled night clothes from her suitcase. Adrenaline pumped in her body and she couldn’t decide if she should turn Michael in. Her soft nightgown cascaded over her body, and she could hear the water in the bathroom running. 

She was allowing him to wash off the evidence in her bathroom. (Y/n) fixed her hair for bed as it was needed before her heart seemed to race when she realized the water was no longer running. 

Her feet padded against the pea green carpet she both loathed and loved, out into the hallway. The bathroom door opened and steam fell out, clearly, he enjoyed the water unbelievably hot. His hulking figure stepped out softly, (Y/n)’s face burned at the sight. Only a white t-shirt and cheaply made tightly whiteys were on his body. A splotch of blood stained the collar and she had to admit he looked good from what she could see. He was raw muscle from head to foot. No matter her weight or size he seemed to engulf her like a solar eclipse. It was no doubt that he could pick her up and move her as if she weighed nothing. 

His hand clung to his knife, as a child would a favorite stuffed animal but in the other hand was something rectangular. 

“You remember that day?” she asked. 

He walked towards her, shame long forgotten in his years in a mental hospital. Or perhaps Michael wasn’t born with the feeling of shame. He held the picture frame up to her and she smiled a natural cheeky smile that made Michael’s chest hurt again. 

“We played knights! Remember?” she giggled. 

Gently she took the picture from his hands. “It’s the only picture of us I have anymore,” 

The frown on her face was something that made Michael feel the need to kill all over again. But not her. Never her. The shape wouldn’t touch her, not like that… at least not permanently. The same wetness he wiped from his own eyes days ago seemed to drip down her cheek. 

His thumb curiously rubbed the tear from her face and she flinched before leaning into his warm tanned hand. 

“I’m sorry Michael,” she said softly. “I just miss those days you know. Those are my best memories. But my fiance doesn’t want me to live in the past,” 

Michael was glad he killed him the moment he saw him. Michael didn’t know how to comfort her, but at least the source of her sad look was done. 

The Shape lifted the latex mask just enough to uncover his lips. His hand on her cheek lifted her chin and he bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. It was small, childish, sweet, and similar to the one she gave him when they were children. The first and only kiss he ever had from anyone that wasn’t his mother. 

(Y/n) didn’t stop him. She leaned into him and enjoyed the warm chapped lips against her own. Then his tongue invaded her mouth like an aggressive intruder. Poking and prodding around her. Tasting every inch of her surprised mouth. Michael’s rough hand slid from her cheek to her throat, squeezing the pad of his thumb into the side of her neck. Firm but not choking. 

He pulls away and tugs the mask over his face quickly. Honey strands of saliva connected them for a moment before dribbling down her lip. Her face felt like it was on fire, and she knew it was awful but she wanted him to do it again to her. 

But she knew Michael. Perhaps she was the only one who knew Michael. He would do things only if he wanted to do them. Though, those things he was willing to do were often if she was there or if she was asking him to do them. 

“Michael, are you hungry? I didn’t have dinner,” she asked gently. 

-- 

It was hardly a dinner at all. It was a bowl of sugary cereal and milk. She had to dig around for the bowls and spoons and Michael watched her from the corner of the kitchen. 

“Do you still like Sugar Pops?” 

The only response she got was him sitting down at the small table. (Y/n) poured their bowls and sat down. 

It was fascinating watching Michael eat, he maneuvered around the mask as if he had it on his entire life. Not even a peak of his face could be seen as he downed bowl after bowl of cereal. (Y/n) only consumed the one, downing the milk and rubbing the milk mustache off with the back of her hand. She was enchanted with Michael. 

(Y/n) was always enchanted by Michael. 

The front door slammed open and shut again. (Y/n)’s back stiffened. 

“That must be Richie,” she stands up. “Stay here, Michael,” 

Michael’s hand went to his trusty blade that was set on the table. He watched her walk past him and leave beyond the kitchen. 

“Oh my god, Richie,” She said. 

He stood covered in blood and limping. 

“We need to get out of here, there’s a maniac out there,” he coughed. 

Crimson splattered from his lips and into the carpet.

“He tried to ki--” he froze. 

(Y/n) knew if she turned around at that moment she would see Michael’s looming figure. So she did. 

“Michael, please,” she said softly. “Go back into the kitchen,” 

“Michael?” Richie spat. “THIS IS THAT LITTLE BLONDE BASTARD I’VE BEEN COMPETING WITH ALL THESE YEARS,” 

(Y/n) flinches at the volume, and Michael takes several steps forward. Richie grabs (Y/n)’s arm and throws her to the ground. 

“Take the bitch, you bastard. Kill her, fuck her, I don’t fucking care. Just let me go,” he pleaded. 

Michael is frozen. Stuck between picking her up and stabbing him until he was sure he couldn’t get up again. But then she stands up, and the choice is made for him. A shadow in the night, he rushes Richie and stabs him in the chest. 

(Y/n) screams. 

“Michael!,” She calls, but she can’t seem to care. 

At least not about Richie. Her fiance’s bloodied hand reaches up and tries to gouge Michael in the eye. He fumbles, unable to find the socket through the latex of the mask. With a sickening crunch of skull and brain matter, Michael stabs Richie in the temple. Blood flies across the burnt orange carpet staining the shag forever. 

(Y/n) exhaled the breath she was holding. Relief seemed to flood her entire body, and endorphins caused her skin to produce goosebumps. The stress of an unhappy relationship was gone from her entire being and Michael was the one to do it. 

“What do we do now?” she asked softly. 

Her shaking hands returned. Michael as always, said nothing. He lumbered up the stairs and came back down them in his blue coveralls. He grabs Richie’s corpse by the ankles and begins to haul him off, somewhere she did not know. 

-- 

Hours passed and the night grew darker. (Y/n) worried he was caught. That somehow they’d track her down and they’d never see each other again. The stress bit at her skin with a swarm of mosquitoes that seemed to eat at her unless she was doing something else. 

The blood was cleaned from the carpet. Boxes moved and unpacked. Laundry was started in the basement and she put out some clean clothes, which were of course much too short for Michael, on the bed for him to sleep in. 

She suddenly felt like she was playing house with little Michael Myers all over again. Her final stop was the two empty cereal bowls that sat in the sink. She had no clue of the figure behind her until his large hands wrapped around her neck. (Y/n) gasped before she felt the large body behind her, soft latex pressed against her cheek. 

-SPICE STARTS HERE-

In the center of her spine, she could really feel him. Thick and hard, did murder excite him? His hips pushed forward pushing her into the sink, rubbing himself against her and against the fabric of his clothing. 

Her heart dropped into her warm loins and her eyes fluttered shut. The drag of rough cotton and clotted blood made her body tingle in such a strange way. (Y/n) wanted to turn, to see him but his grip on her neck wouldn’t allow her to move. 

“Michael,” she choked. “Bed. Please,” 

Michael pulled away, and for a beat, she thought she had upset him. Made him stop what he wanted, but then he lifted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His hand gripped the space where her buttcheek and thigh met, he couldn’t help but squeeze it as he did so. 

The Shape lumbered up the creaking stairs and into the master bedroom. He threw her down and she bounced slightly against the spring, the clothes on the bed flew off and Michael stared her down. The silky nightgown had dragged up her hips and revealed sweet cotton panties with growing dampness staining the front. 

He wanted to see more of her. Michael climbed into the bed on his knees, hovering above her body. Rough fingers dragged up her arms, covering her in fresh blood. His thumbs hooked over the thin straps of the dress and pulls them down until (Y/n)’s breasts were uncovered. 

Hot breath escaped the bottom of the mask, brushing against her skin. He stared, unmoving at the breasts that seemed to suit his wife so perfectly. 

Michael didn’t care for laws or technicalities. As far as he was concerned they had been married since the day she asked him. It only took time for him to finally be with her. 

His large hand finally moved from the place against her arm and down to her waist like he had before. Up her curves and squished anything he could before grabbing her breast in his hand. He ran a thumb over the hardened nipple and a soft hum of approval escaped (Y/n)’s soft lips. 

So he did it again. 

She hummed again. 

He pinched the nipple and she moaned. 

That moan sent a shiver down his spine and the fabric of his clothing felt suffocating. It was like she could read his mind, her fingers pulled the heavy zipper down his body. Warm hands traced his strained t-shirt and down into his underwear. Soft fingertips followed his long shaft to the tip and the way her eyes widened in fear caused a low grunt to leave Michael’s lips. 

His hips slammed up into her hand. The fingers wrapped around him and he grunted again and another animalistic hump into her palm followed. (Y/n) smiled at him, and her free hand ran up his chest and to his mask.

Michael grabs her wrist just before she could tug off the mask. 

“It’s okay Michael, you can leave it on,” she assured him. 

Her hand on his throbbing cock moved down his length, his pubic hair was soft against her fist. Up and down she pumped his shaft and Michael could hardly control his hips. But his own hands were now exploring her body as she touched him. 

He enjoyed the softness of her breasts but he soon found his way into the front of her panties. Blood leaving trails down her body and ruining her underwear. She hardly had time to care. Michael found her clit and touched roughly. A long moan escaped her pretty lips and he moved his fingers faster around the nub. Her hips lifted off the bed and she could feel an orgasm building quickly. 

“Wait,” she tried to slow him down and stop him but her body beat her to the punch. 

She came while being barely touched by him. Her scream was loud and he liked it. It was better than the screams of his victims. Much better than any music or cries for help. He didn’t even stop his fingers over her clit. Her hands were removed from his cock and now wrapped around his wrist. 

But he didn’t slow down the assault on her clit. He pushed her through a second orgasm and tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. 

“Slow down Michael,” she begged. 

He grunted at the tone. He licked his lips behind the mask, his fingers finally leaving the sensitive nub. Michael inserted two fingers, and she jumped in surprise at the intrusion. Thick and rough in the best ways. The grip on his wrist loosened and he began pumping in and out of her, his head cocking to the side as he watched her face contort. 

The digits were removed just before she could reach another euphoria. He looked at the glistening on his fingers before slipping them under his mask for a taste. Michael groaned at the flavor and knew he would become addicted to her. 

His hands hooked around her panties and he ripped them into two. Then his jumpsuit was around his hips and his cock was released from its irritating prison. (Y/n) leaned forward from her spot on the pillows. He was huge, of course, he was huge. This and long, curving just right. Pre-cum oozed from the tip and she licked her lips. 

“Michael, you have to be careful, you’re big--” 

Words caught in her throat as he flipped her onto her stomach. He squeezed and smacked the meat of her ass before pressing against her body. He was prodding at her wet entrance. 

“It’s too big, Michael,” 

He huffed and roughly pushed into her, a yelp of pain and surprise at the stretch caused him to twitch inside of her. Michael’s hands traced up her body again, stopping to grab her tits and then around the front to her throat for leverage. His dull nails bit into her skin but it was nothing compared to the pleasurable burn of Michael as he began to rock his hips. 

It didn’t take long for him to find a wild, yet consistent rhythm. He growled and grunted like a caged animal and the burn turned into pure pleasure as his cock brushed against the pressure point deep inside her walls. 

“Oh, fuck Michael,” she whined. 

He rammed into her hard at that and she moaned. His fingers tightened around her throat, (Y/n)’s vision began to get hazy as he pulled her against his pistoning hips. Just as she was about to fall into the darkness he let go and he felt her walls flutter around him. 

“Holy fuck,” She whined as she came around his cock. 

The tight sensation was too much. Michael couldn’t hold off anymore. He came. Hard and thick ropes of cum from years of isolation and lack of sexual interest. He kept cumming, more than anyone she had ever been with. 

His body slumped heavily against her back as it finally stopped. He grunted into her ear from beyond the mask and his huffing hot breath brushed against her shoulder. (Y/n) had no choice, she lay with his weight on top of her. His cock pulled from her body finally, rolling to the side flat on his back. 

(Y/n) turned over and sighed. 

“I love you, Michael. I know you probably won't or can’t understand that, but I always have and I always will,” she said softly. 

(Y/n) leaned up and kissed the soft cheek of his mask.

As she turns to pull from Michael, he grabs her arm again. He lifts the mask with his free hand just enough for his lips to show. The soft pink lips crashed into hers with all tongue and teeth invading her mouth again. She welcomed it and he pulled away again. Instead of pulling his mask down, however, he began kissing down her body. Licking and tasting her. 

“Again already?” 

She jumped in surprise when his tongue licked over her folds. 

#Michael Myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers x y/n #michael myers x you #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #part 3 #Pinky promise #Pinky Promises | Michael Myers x F!Reader #x reader #early post #?

[rendy-a]

amh if possible could hoy make hdcns for the dorm leaders ( separately ) reacting to their mc fem explaining the marvel universe and then puts them to watch the movies hehe ( ..also mc's fav hero is dead-pool ;) bc it gives me laugh imagine their reactions about this xd) , thanks in advance and take care<33

This certainly ended up being a little bit of a crack fic but it ended up amusing. Hope you enjoy it.

At first, he scoffs as such a time-wasting thing as wanting to watch dozens of movies.  Where is the educational value in this?

He is just too polite to refuse to listen, so he’ll end up letting you describe all your favorite scenes to him.

You are better off if he doesn’t take an interest because, if he does, he is going to turn into the worst sort of comic book geek.  Be ready to have him quote lore from issues of source material at you during any discussion on this from now on.

What do you mean who would win?  In Volume 3 #3, Thor clearly defeated Iron Man.  Don’t get upset Prefect, I don’t write the lore, I just recite it.

Doesn’t appear to be interested but, if you pause long enough, he’ll prompt you to go on.  It’s important to you, so he’ll try to care at least a little.

You’d never tell him this, but you love to banter with him because it reminds you of your favorite character.  Sometimes you wonder if he’d be pleased or offended to know who you remind him of.

Movie marathons?  Not only is he willing to do them with you, but he is also often the one who suggests them.  Don’t be deceived though, it’s not for the movie but for the quality nap time on the couch with you. 

Don’t turn that off, Herbivore, I’m watching it.  What do you mean I don’t know what’s going on?  This is the part where we learn her mom isn’t dead after all.  So quiet down and keep the lights off.

Please, he is in Board Game Club with Idia. You think this is the first time he has hmmm’d himself through a conversation about fictional characters?

Wait, you say that this makes a ton of money?  Tell him more about this merchandising and licensing.  Especially that, what do you call it…ah, Happy Meal.

You can eventually talk him into watching the movies with you for ‘research purposes.’  When you do, you can’t help but notice how teary-eyed he gets at the sad scenes.  He’s just so sensitive!

Deadpool is also his favorite character.  He feels a sort of connection to certain parts of his story.

So, she chooses to stay with him even though he looks like that?  No, I’m not blubbering.  No, I don’t need you to cuddle with me.  Ok, fine.  Just for a little while. 

He doesn’t get it, but he still loves it.  Sure, you have to explain everything to him three times, but he gets excited over your excitement.  Call him any time to talk about your theories on how things would have gone if Thanos had made a different wish on the infinity gauntlet.  He doesn’t mind if it’s 3 AM (just don’t let Jamil find out).

Movie marathons turn into parties.  Why just watch the movies when you can have themed snacks and dress up too?  Hulk smash cakes and Black Widow berry cobbler?  Yes, please.

His favorite part of any film is the soundtrack.  If he hears a song he likes, he gets up to dance along.  It’s pretty disruptive when you are watching the movie but when you see how much fun he is having, you find you don’t really mind after all.

Sorry Prefect, Jamil says we can’t have dance battles in Scarabia anymore.  Ooh!  But come by the Pop Music Club later.  I’m going to play all my favorite songs for Cater and Lilia. Ahaha!

You were worried Vil would dismiss your favorite Marvel films as inferior art, but he is actually rather generous about it.  He believes the film should suit the audience and, as so, there is nothing wrong with films like this that serve to entertain the masses.

Still, he can’t help but be critical of everything while you watch.  He doesn’t criticize the things you’d talk about with your friends but topics you’d hardly even notice while you watched like the set design and lighting.

You notice Vil seems secretly fond of Loki.  You think the idea of the Villain that survives the main movies to get his own spotlight series appeals to him.

No, Potato, I’m just saying the angle isn’t right for this sort of tone.  A shot from below would be more effective.  Plus…wait, are you having more popcorn?  I don’t think so, it’s past the time you can snack before bed.

You had expected Idia to be all in on the Marvel Universe but, at first, he is oddly resistant to it.  He’d rather recommend you one of his own favorite hero movies.  If you disagree on which is better, he is more than willing to fight with you over why his is best!

After a heated argument, he puts on some of the movies to watch so he can come up with targeted points about why his own shows are better.  This does not work out for him as he gets sucked in himself.  Next time you meet up, he wants to go over tiny bits of lore and speculate on future plot lines from hints in the past movies.

You might think his favorite would be Iron Man because they both are innovative engineers, but he is a fan of Ant Man.  Shrinking down to a size where you can hide from everyone; it’s an introvert’s dream!

Prefect, this is serious business!  I’ve drawn up plans.  So long as we sleep only 2 hours a day and avoid taking any breaks for food, studying, and showers, we can finish at least three seasons this weekend.  True fans like us need to be ready to sacrifice for the shows we love!

There are many things Tusnotarou doesn’t understand, and this is one of them.  For starters, he barely knows how to use his smartphone, let alone how to stream movies and shows.  So, before you can even start explaining the plot, you must explain the whole concept of series and interconnecting shows to him.

He doesn’t get it, but he is happy to watch with you.  Your reactions to the show are far more amusing to him than the actual show.  Plus, he feels like he learns so much about the human world from your conversations.  A subway, how intriguing an idea.  Humans are so fascinating.

Even though he watches politely, he isn’t very impressed.  They can fly?  Well so can he.  Magic, lightning, superstrength?  All just part of being a dragon.  Perhaps instead of being interested in these superheroes, you’d rather learn more about him?

 Lilia, do you think I am a superhero?  The Prefect has been explaining this concept to me in great detail lately.  I can’t help but notice the many things I have in common with these so-called heroes.  Why yes, Lilia, now that you mention it, I am wearing a cape.  Another point in my favor. Fu fu fu.    

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #idia shroud #kalim al asim #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit

[fictionalmenaremytype]

SEASON FINALE BABY LETS GOOO!!!!!

(Percy jackson ep 8 spoilers)

I'm just gonna start by saying if Disney doesn't renue this for a second season they are stupid and will have missed out on a harry Potter level phenomenon.

- LUKE MONOLOGUE HOLYSHIT ITS GIVING GOOD KID REPRISE

- HE IS KIND OF TERRIFYING IN THAT SWORD SCENE THO

- Ares' cackle. I love him .

- Ares just threw him like hulk did loki

- annabeth having to hold Grover back is so important to me because he's wanting to help percy but Annabeth knows this fight is to the death and any interruption would just get Grover killed.

- Annabeth also knowing he needs to prove himself as the son of poseidon and discover who he is.

- "let's kick the son of poseidon into a puddle right near the sea" I now understand why Athena is battle strategy and Ares is just war.

- THAT TSUNAMI JUST PARTING FOR PERCT US ICONIC AND HE JUST RUNS AND SWOOPS AND CUTS ARES

- my only critique is that Percy never does any movements to show its his power (which ik this is accurate to the books) but it comes off a little like he's just calling on Poseidon to do stuff. I wished they had some sort of indicator that it was Percy like maybe a slight movement or having the water pull back from the puddle he fell in and into the sea.

- I did think the fight was a little quick tbh but it still worked.

- the way I screamed "close your eyes close your eyes close your eyes!" When he was about to show his true form.

- woooh Hades helm

- The cabin looks fuckung terrifying rn

- I haven't seen the end of credit scene yet but I'm predicting it's going to be Sally with Gabe's statue.

- Alecto just wanted to get tho boss his hat back!

- "please" "good luck on Olympus" I thought she was going to be nice but noooo she's still a bitch.

- Annabeth trying to stop Percy from going because they're friends now and she's worried for his safety. I love Leah she is AMAZING.

- "I'm done running from monsters" THAT LINE OMG THE WRITERS ROOM ATEEEE

- THE NECKLACE?? THE MUSIC?? "You're gonna need all the luck you can get." Is so sweet and so patronising she is perfect. Leah is Annabeth Chase she has cyclops powers and just embodies her!

- "how sure are we you couldn't explain everything in an email?" So relatable Grover so relatable.

- "I'm here to see Zeus." Lightning bolt on the table " I don't have an appointment"

- THIS SHOWS ART DEPARTMENT HOLY SHITT OLYMPUS IS STUNNING WTF

- it is so so obvious when you know abt Luke that yes trying to recruit Percy to his side.

- LUKE REALLY JUST SET ANNABETH UP TO BE THE TRAITOR THERE WHAT!

- can someone build this olympus on minecraft please I want to exploreee.

- zeus (rip Lance Reddick we miss you) just waiting on his throne is terrifying.

- The thrown room being in a thunder cloud has so much messaging behind it! It is pathetic fallacy at its finest.

- Zeus is scary. I don't like it. Literal goosebumps rn.

- "your family is a mess" you tell him Percy. Be his therapist

- WHEN HE TRIED TO STRIKE PERCY OH MY GOD POSEIDON SURRENDERING

- "your forbidden son who should've never been born" "the same as your thalia" Poseidon learnt some sass I see.

- THE GREEK IS INGENIOUS.

- "make sure I never see this one again." Well I hate to break it to you sir but you will...a lot

- "obedience doesn't come naturally to you does it?" "No...sir." "the sea does not like to be retrained." CAUSE THE SEA DOESNT LIKE TO BE RESTRAINEDDDDD

- Percy not immediately knowing Greek is such a slept upon lart of the books because they have lessons in it.

- Poseidons smile about Sally.

- "Ares is a moron." The only thing Poseidon and Athena agree on.

- Aww they finally had father son time. Its so emotional and beautiful and its made me emotional.

- the line of applause and I'm just looking for Travis and Connor.

- The hugging is a thing.

- "an accusation against clarisse." "Without proof" annabeth has a feeling!

- honestly adding Clarisse as a traitor and using that to get Percy and Luke alone makes more sense to me given that they know someone at camp stole the bolt.

- I think now is the time to say how Charlie is amazing for Luke he's so sinister when he wants to be l.

- luke making him go through the Prophecy before he reveals and percy slowly realising why Omg chills.

- the red lighting on Luke highlighting his scar.

- luke looking like he's about to cry

- "I didn't think you'd give them to Grover." "I'm here to recruit" AH

- BACKBITER CAN OPEN PORTALS NOW THIS IS A WHOLE NEW LEVEL OF OVER POWERED !!!!!

- LUKE AND PERCY FIGHT LUKE AND OERCY FIGHT.

- Is that a silhouette in the background???

- " I met your dad" THE ANGER OMG

- the fight with Ares being short is made up for by this fight. Under the fireworks? In the woods? It's stunning!!!!

- PERCYS APOLOGY OMG I FELT SO BAD FOR HIM HES SCARED AND CONFUSED AND STILL TRYING TO SEE THE BEST IN LUKE.

- YES ANNABETH. THROWING HER DAGGER AT LUKE?!? I HOPE THAT KNIFE BECAUSE PART OF ANNABETHS CHARACTER BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE SO COOL. I KNEW I SAW A SILHOUTTE

- " Annabeth?" " I heard everything" I KNEW SHE HAD HER SUSPICIONS

- " He can be very very persuasive" "I'm very very stubborn"

- MR D LOVE HIM

- "Percy? That's your name?"

- I was half expecting Dionysus to do an Oprah and say " you get out and you get out"

- Annabeth saying goodbye to Thalia is so sweet

- " and then sone place called Disney World?" She's never seen a movie she's going to be so confused. "Which kind of sounds like water land but with less trying to kill you" Yeah.

- the way he smiles at her is so cute.

- "wait did I read that wrong. What am I walking into. Is there something you're supposed to do there?" "Just be a kid"

- aww Grovers searcher licence is a flower

- "but no ones ever thought to check the seas!" Nice set up Disney I see you.

- "we meet back here next year." Well you will eventually.

- THE GROUP HUG (if we get up to season 5 I expect editors to make edits of them hugging at 16 to them hugging at 12)

- The cabin and Sally <3

- "what happened?" "It's a long story."

- WHAT JUST HAPPNED OMG ANOTHET DREAM OMG KRONOS I DONT LIKE THIS HES TOO CLOSE OMG GO AWAY DONT INVITE HIM IN HES LIKE A VAMPIRE. HES SCARY SCARY SCARY.

- "no kidding kiddo it's time to wake up." So cute.

- "grandpa." "Don't call him that."

- "Don't forget to tell your mom how much you love her today." "Kronos Lord of the titans said that?" The lying and secrets has begun

- NO GABE WOOH

- THE ENDING MONOLOGUE

- HOW MUCH DID WALKER SCOVELL GROW OVER FILMING HES SO TALL NEXT TO SALLY AND THE DOOR FRAME.

- Sally divorcing gabe is much much better than her just turning him to stone because it gives the message that she now recognises her son can look after himself and now she doesn't have to protect him anymore.

- GABE ASKING THE LAWYER HOW TO PICK A LOCK IS SO FUNNY

- I really like how it's his own hate for percy and everything percy has that gets him killed rather than straight up homicide. It really sets the idea that people like that will find their own downfall (which is ironic bc this trope is commonly used in ancient Greek tragedies)

season one of percy jackson is stunning. It's a masterpiece even with the changes and whilst there was definitely some timing issues and the cut to black became annoying, it was very, very good. If it is renewed for another season, it has a lot of potential, and I will be very excited to see how they adapt The Sea of Monsters for screen.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #annabeth chase #pjo tv show #pjo series #walker scobell #grover underwood #percy jackson season 1 finale

[angel-of-the-moons]

Over The Moon

Khonshu x Reader

TW/CW: None

A/N: This is something that hit me and I'm hoping writing it will help knock me out of my funk while I take a couple days to myself (going on a trip with some friends). So enjoy this little blurb of the tall pigeon man!

🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑

It was time for the fireworks to start soon. The snow and ice chilled you to the bone, and you sat on a bench overlooking the Hudson River.

It was deserted, given the particular location of the bench, and the proximity to a one of the closed-down subway entrances, that housed the homeless.

Many people felt unsafe there, but you knew you'd always be safe at night. Especially around the homeless. They, like you, were under the protection of someone great.

Someone powerful.

Someone who... really needed to work on his people skills...

You turn your thermos in your hands, briefly passing the warmed metal into one palm while you checked the time on your phone.

Four minutes until the clock struck the new year; and the moon was as bright as ever. It was abnormally large as well, but it was beautiful and provided a gorgeous backdrop for the fireworks display that was due to start soon.

You slipped your phone back into your pocket and closed your eyes as snowflakes drifted down from the scattered clouds, a stray moonbeam peeking out here and there, always seeming to illuminate you and you alone; as if something--or someone--simply wanted to bathe you in the cool ethereal light of that lunar object.

You weren't sure how much time had passed until you felt the warm touch of someone's fingers grazing your cheek.

You open your eyes and turn your head to see the hulking, lithe frame above you.

His body was draped in linen and loose robes, a gold crescent moon secured to his chest. His colors seemed bleak, non-existent.

What completed his strange, otherworldly appearance was the dessicated bird skull that hung with some invisible force in place of what would be a human head.

His other hand gripped his staff as he leaned over the bench to peer at you with large, eyeless sockets.

"You are frigid." His voice rumbles through you.

You smile at him, sipping your hot cider. "Well that happens when it's only about 2 degrees outside, Khonshu."

"Hmph." He grunted, moving in a haze until he was sitting to your side, cross-legged on the ground next to the bench, his staff resting on his shoulder.

"Uh, Khonshu... There's a bench here..."

"I know."

"Then why--"

You were interrupted when his large hands encapsulated your waist and he pulled you down to him, firmly planting you in his lap, between his crossed legs.

You opened your mouth to complain about how he almost made you spill your cider--but the unnatural warmth his body exuded quickly snuffed the flame of your complaint as you sank against him with a contented sigh.

His body always carries the warmth of the deserts, the scent of sweet spices and just a hint of mildew. Most others wouldn't enjoy the combination of smells, but you enjoyed it.

He smelled... safe. You knew whenever you smelled him, no harm would ever come to you. That you would never be lonely.

"Better?" He asked, his voice almost condescending.

You stick your finger up, "This doesn't mean you won anything, old man."

"Of course it does. I am a god, Little Star." He chuckled, his arms circling around you to pull you close against his chest.

You chuckled back at him, bringing a frozen finger to caress the beak of his skull.

The texture was smooth, like a normal bone being sanded and smoothed down by endless days of being blasted by the sands of time.

"You're so full of yourself." You admonished playfully.

"Hmmh."

You jumped with a squeak when the first fireworks go off, casting blue-red glows down upon the two of you.

Your jolt of fear seems to amuse the god, and another warm chuckle rolls out of him, settling deep into your bones.

"Not funny." You huffed, trying to sound indignant but the smile on your lips betray your tone as you both lift your gazes to the sky at the bright lights booming high above.

You feel his arms tighten around your almost imperceptibly, caging you against him in a loving embrace.

Yes.

You knew, as long as he was here, you were safe.

And he was home.

#moon knight #khonshu x you #khonshu x reader #khonshu moon knight #khonsu #khonshu

[thebisexualdogdad]

Can I request an imagine of male reader being apart of the new avengers and having a huge crush on Kate Bishop but always being shy around her. But when Kate's friends like Yelena Belova She Hulk Kamala Khan find out that she also has a crush on him they try to get them together. Can you make it full of fluff and a bit of a smut at the end, please

Kate Bishop x Male!reader

It was no secret that you had a crush on Kate.

Before joining the new avengers you were known as being a confident and outgoing mutant with superhuman strength but for whatever reason all of that bravado disappeared as soon as you were around her and you turned into this shy and nervous mess.

You try to impress Kate when you can; lifting cars and other large vehicles with ease, punching holes straight through concrete walls or jumping off the top of buildings and landing in front of her doing a cheesy superhero pose.

"Hey Kate, didn't see you there," you'd say as if there wasn't a small hand shaped crater in the ground now from where you landed.

You can barely look her in the eyes when she's inches away from your face wrapping up the bruises on your knuckles after a mission, she'd smile making one of her cheesy jokes and you'd have to fight the urge to kiss her.

You spend a lot of time at her apartment which Lucky loves because he has another person around to play with and gets to go on extra long walks through the city with you and Kate.

The two of you both blush whenever a stranger assumes you're a couple and compliments you on being a cute little family.

Kate thinks it's adorable whenever you fall asleep cuddling Lucky on her couch, her phone is full of photos of you and him.

Kamala is always telling people how great of a couple you and Kate would be.

"Well obviously Y/N Y/L/N likes Kate Bishop but does Kate Bishop like Y/N Y/L/N back," Yelena asks as Kamala goes on yet another rant about how she wishes you would ask Kate out already.

"Let's ask her," Jen grins as Kate enters the avengers bullpen.

"Why are you all looking at me like that? Did a bird shit on me again? You guys need to tell me when a bird shits on me you can't just let me go around all day with a big white stain on the back of my suit like last time it's not funny," Kate huffs and starts looking over her clothes for evidence of any bird excrement which Yelena snickers at remembering the bird shit incident.

"Kate do you have feelings for Y/N?" Kamala blurts out blankly.

"Uhhhh" Kate gulps quickly stopping her actions and her face goes red.

"She does!" Jen cheers happily.

"Guys suit up, alien attack downtown," you say running into the bullpen from the training room.

"Oh thank god," Kate mutters under her breath, leaving the bullpen to grab her bow and arrows.

"So we are totally setting them up right?" Kamala says as Jen transforms into she-hulk.

"Obviously," Yelena replies.

A few days later they pull a bait and switch on you guys, telling you and Kate to meet them at a pizza place for a team dinner.

The two of you are so busy talking you don't even notice it's been three hours and your friends never showed up.

"Huh that's weird, you think something happened?" Kate asks.

"I haven't gotten any Avengers worthy notifications from the police scanner we rigged," you say, grabbing another garlic knot.

"I'm going to call Yelena," Kate says, pulling out her phone.

"How's your date Kate Bishop?" Yelena asks as soon as she picks up.

"My what?" Kate responds confused.

"Your date with Y/N Y/L/N, Kamala Khan says we did something called parent trap you," she states.

"So you guys aren't showing up??"

"Nope, good bye."

"They aren't coming are they," you say as Kate puts her phone away.

"Apparently we are on a date," Kate chuckles awkwardly.

"... we are?" You ask.

"This is so embarrassing I'm sorry, they found out I liked you and I guess this was their way of trying to set us up and-" she rambles.

"You like me?" You question, cutting her off.

"Of course I do."

"Kate, I like you too," you confess.

"So… we are on a date then?"

"Guess we are," you smile.

You finish up your date and walk her home, standing on her doorstep talking for another hour.

"Oh wow it's after midnight," Kate laughs looking at the time on her phone.

"I should probably be heading home but maybe I can take you out again this weekend? Maybe on a date we actually plan ourselves this time?" You suggest.

"I would love that but I think you should kiss me before we end this date," she smiles.

"I can certainly do that," you chuckle, leaning in and kissing her like you've wanted to for the last year.

You expected it to be a short and sweet kiss but Kate's hands goes to your neck bringing you as close to her as humanly possible.

You get lost in each other as your kiss quickly heats up and you discover she's been waiting for this as long as you have.

"I've changed my mind, I don't want this date to end yet," she says breathing heavily from your intense kiss, "come inside."

"Are you sure?" You question.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she tells you.

You nod and she fumbles around with her keys excitedly trying to open her front door.

Lucky is fast asleep in his bed as you two stumble through her apartment, clothes being shed as she quietly shuts her bedroom door behind you.

The next morning you wake up with Kate in your arms, Lucky scratching at the door and whining to let you know he needs to go out.

Kate stretches and wipes the sleep from her eyes, about to get up and walk him.

"Stay in bed," you say kissing her forehead, "I'll walk Lucky and get donuts on my way back."

"Hmm did you say donuts? This is officially the best date ever."

#marvel imagine #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop x reader #x male reader #fic

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

The Blood of the Covenant

Chapter One: First Steps (Toward White-Faced Cliffs)

Summary: Ominis Gaunt makes his very first friends. || Masterlist

Warnings: None

Song: We Are Gonna Be Friends - Carried Away

A/N: Please tell me what you think. This is my first real contribution to this fandom and I'm unreasonably nervous about it.

He felt a certain fondness looking back on that day. Sitting in King’s Cross Station, assaulted by unfamiliar and frightening sensations. It was scary at the time, but he’d only been eleven then. The hulking monster of soot, smoke, and steel lurched out of the station, and with it, he was finally, finally free.

Even though, at the time, he hadn’t quite figured out that he was trapped to begin with.

That would come with time. And pain. But he didn’t know that quite yet.

And to be fair, he wasn't entirely free. His mother and father would scarcely let him flee so effortlessly from their clutches. But for the first time in his life, he had a real choice - many real choices, in fact. Surely, if he fought hard enough, he wouldn't have to be the villain. He wasn’t destined to become his older brother or his father. He could be the hero, he was sure of it. At eleven years old, he was determined. He would write his own story - prove mother and father and ‘Volo wrong. He would just have to be brave. 

That was the tricky part. 

Bravery wasn't particularly his forte. 

Well, he would just have to work on that. After all, how hard could it be? Without mother and father around to punish him, or ‘Volo over his shoulder to ensure they would, the boy was sure that bravery could be forged easily enough. And Hogwarts, of course, would be the perfect place to build up a little courage. 

Perhaps he could start with what Aunt Noctua always said: Making some friends. 

The only problem there was that… well he'd never really had a friend before. The closest he'd ever come to a playmate were the family house elves and somehow, he didn't think that magical enslavement was quite what his Aunt had in mind. 

" How does one go about making a friend ?" The boy wondered with a frown.

A soft click jarred him from his reverie, and the boy tilted his head toward the door of his little seating area, listening to the voices he'd previously been ignoring.

"Well, I don't know… push it a little harder?" One of the voices, likely a girl's though it was hard for him to distinguish, said. 

"I'm pushing on it as hard as I can." The second speaker sounded more like a boy, at least in temperament.

"Then why isn't it opening?"

"Perhaps it's jammed?" The second voice suggested. This was followed by an indignant huff from the first.

"But everywhere else is full!" The girl complained. "Try it again, Sebastian."

"Oh, fine!" The boy - Sebastian, evidently - exclaimed. "But if I break my shoulder, you'll owe me a new one."

The boy inside the compartment raised a brow and stood. Reaching out, he felt around for the door's handle before twisting and easily sliding it open. 

"It helps to unfasten the latch," He hummed, rather amused. Then, gesturing inside the compartment, he smirked. "In need of a seat?"

"Yes, please!" The girl chirped. He quickly stepped to the side as she slipped past him. Sebastian followed, though not without a low grumble.

"I would have gotten that eventually," He said. The rustle of fabric that followed usually indicated that a speaker had crossed their arms and the frown in his voice wasn't hard to detect. 

"Of course you would."

Sebastian huffed. "As if you didn't do the same thing your first time riding a train."

"I didn't." The boy shrugged, chuckling. Sebastian opened his mouth to contend that only to be met with a quick jab in the ribs from his companion. 

"Sebastian!" She chastened. "Don't be rude!"

"Right. Sorry."

"Apologies on behalf of my brother," The girl said, an eye-roll quite evident in her tone. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Anne Sallow, and he's Sebastian."

The boy nodded. "Pleasure to meet you both," He replied. 

"Are you not going to introduce yourself?" Sebastian wondered. Were he an adult, likely there would have been a hint of displeasure in the boy's tone, but seeing as he was merely eleven, the only undertones in his words were those of curiosity.

The boy froze. If he shared his name, the likelihood that these two would desire to befriend him would either drop or rise significantly. (The latter for all the wrong reasons, of course.) However, he could hardly go about befriending anyone should he withhold his name from the entire school.

"I'm Ominis." He took a deep breath, grimacing as he readied himself for the backlash (or quite the opposite) to come. "Ominis… Gaunt ." 

There was silence.

“Oh…” That was Sebastian.

"I've… heard things about that family," Anne's voice began softly. Not at all an odd thing to say really. Because everyone who was someone had heard something about the Gaunts. Looking back on it, he could hear it in her, just as he had so many others. 

The fear. The disgust. 

And beneath it all, there was that reluctant awe. (In his usual circles - his parent's circles - that awe was less reluctant and more forced. ) As though he were some sort of prince, heir to a vile, imaginary crown. 

Oh, how he grew to hate it.

Though he was only eleven at the time and oh-so-innocent, Ominis knew enough. He knew enough to recognize that his family was awful rude and stuffy and old fashioned. He just didn’t know how bad it really was. Not at the time. His name - his bloodline - was his crown, revered by all, and coveted by those who didn't have the sense to fear it. The Gaunt legacy was one of darkness and hate - it was not something to be exalted. 

Why could people not acknowledge them for what they were? Not royalty, but-

"Pure-blood maniacs - the lot of 'em. That's what my uncle says," Sebastian cut in, foregoing his sister's more polite tone. There was no awe in his voice. Ominis caught only a steadfast surety. "I never understood why the Prophet always talks about your folks like they're some kind of royalty, but that whole clan sounds more like a bunch of spoiled brats to me. What say you, Ominis?"

The blunt honesty caught him off guard. Ominis blinked.

You see, despite having been born blind, (or perhaps because of it) Ominis Gaunt was quite adept at reading people. He could hear the difference between a smile and a sneer, even when one masked the other. He could scent out a lie from across a room, even in a setting steeped with deceit. He could taste a challenge before it crawled its way between a speaker's lips, not unlike a snake that tastes its prey from deep within its hole - never giving a warning before it strikes. (An apt metaphor, though Ominis would never take pride in it.)

The boy was so used to deception - had lived his entire eleven years of life by its principles. Navigating the cloak-and-dagger conversations of pure-blood high society was a skill sewn into his very essence. Yet, none of his parents' instructions on navigating polite conversation could have prepared him for the metaphorical bludger that was Sebastian Sallow.  

His words alone painted for Ominis a perfect impression of his entire personality. 

Thus Ominis was quite sure that the child before him was unlike anyone he had ever met. This boy had never known wealth nor privilege as he had. (Ominis could smell the dirt on the clothes he and his sister wore.) There were no schemes nor hidden agendas, it seemed. No, he simply didn't have the patience for such things. He was purely upfront - a trait Ominis was far from used to. Sebastian wasn't going to play nice for the sake of propriety.

And truthfully, Ominis was quite bored with propriety. Perhaps that was why he didn’t lash out in his family’s defense. Or perhaps it was because ‘Volo had pushed him down the stairs earlier that day. He wasn’t sure. Either way, that was the beginning. That was how the wool over his eyes began to unravel, so to speak. But again. He didn’t know that yet. For now, as an eleven-year-old who was quite annoyed with his brother would, he just found it all rather funny.

"Ugh! ‘Bash!" Anne hissed, though the admonition died on her lips when Ominis cracked a smile.

"Oh, I quite agree," He said with a smirk. "You can't imagine the family reunions." 

Oh , if his parents heard him say that… 

Rather, only Sebastian and Anne did. They didn't seem particularly affronted. In fact, a broad grin stretched into Sebastian's next words. 

"I think the three of us are going to be great friends, Ominis."

And Ominis smiled then. They had extended their friendship first, and he hadn't even needed to do anything! He'd thought he would have at least had to buy them off, but no! They didn't ask a knut of him. What a spectacular feeling that was! 

He could be normal, like Auntie Noctua always said. He could make friends. He could do this . 

He would prove his siblings and his parents wrong, just like Aunt Noctua always said he could.

"Thank you, I look forward to it," He said, with a slight smile. "So, this is your first year at Hogwarts as well, I presume?"

"Yes, it is!" Anne answered readily, practically buzzing with excitement.

"I see." He nodded. "Would the two of you happen to be twins then?"

"Indeed we are," Sebastian hummed, a hint of pride in his voice. "Can't you tell?"

Ominis frowned and retreated slightly. "As a matter of fact, I-I can't," He said.

"Why's that?" The boy wondered, genuinely confused. His sister sighed.

"Because he's blind , Sebastian," She hissed under her breath.

"Oh… Wait, really?"

Ominis raised a brow. "Yes?"

"So what's that like?" He wondered, leaning forward in his seat. "What color is everything for you? Is it black or white?" 

Anne groaned. 

"I wouldn't know…" Ominis answered slowly. Yet a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, despite himself. "I was born this way. What's your excuse?"

Most questions he received about his blindness were demeaning in some way or another. He was used to them by now. However, for once, he didn't mind because this one was entirely genuine… if only in the sense that not a single ounce of thought had been put into it. 

"He doesn't have one, I'm afraid." Anne deadpanned. "He's just an idiot."

Sebastian's robes rustled as he drew back, offended. "What are you two getting at? I just ask-" He paused. "Oh."

It would seem that Sebastian's mouth ran a bit faster than his head. There was honesty in that. Ominis found himself appreciating it.

"Merlin's beard, Sebastian." Anne sighed, shaking her head. She shifted to address Ominis. "Believe it or not, my brother's got the brain of a Ravenclaw."

"Pity he doesn't use it," Ominis hummed, teasingly.

The girl giggled. "That's what I've been saying for years."

"Oh yes, how clever of you, Anne. Let's all just applaud your stunning originality," Sebastian said flatly. Ominis could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "You know, Ominis, I've always thought my sister more inclined to Gryffindor," He continued. "She reminds me of a lion quite often. Though, not so much in temperament as in looks. I mean, you're lucky you can't see because it's rather frightening - razor sharp claws, yellow teeth, and when she wakes up in the morning, she's got quite the impressive mane. She's also unreasonably loud!"

"Wha-" Anne gasped and a loud thump indicated that Sebastian was going to have an impressive bruise on his arm by the end of the day. 

Ominis couldn't help but laugh. And, oddly enough, that laughter lasted for the duration of the train ride. He'd never before felt the urge to laugh quite like he did in the presence of the Sallow twins. Because… well he could . With no one around to chastise him, he could laugh all he wanted. 

Something warm and entirely foreign stirred in his chest. Thus, on that very day, Ominis Gaunt experienced the sensations of both true freedom and kinship for the first time in his life and, like a Niffler, he welcomed it greedily, relishing it in the moment before it would inevitably be taken from him. After all, good things were always taken from him. He wasn't good enough to keep them. He hadn’t quite learned that lesson yet. But he would.

Rather sad that, but no one ever said this was a happy story. 

By the time the train arrived in Hogsmeade Station, the twins were practically bouncing off the walls of that little compartment. Though, in hindsight, the mounds of candy Ominis bought for them to share certainly didn't help matters. He did it because he could. Because mother and father would have told him no. Because he had money and his parents never spent a Galleon on anyone else. Auntie Noctua said generosity is a good thing. So Ominis would be a generous little boy.

“Oh, Sebastian! Just look at it!” Anne squealed, her face plastered to the window. Her brother, in an attempt to remain composed and thus appear more mature than his sister, remained in his seat. He was equally excited, however, if his voice was anything to go on.

“We’ve passed by dozens of times. We practically live here! Why is today any different?” His feet drummed on the floor. Oh, he couldn’t wait.

“Because today we’re going inside !” Anne shook her brother vigorously and Ominis couldn't help but laugh. 

“Look at it, Ominis!” She then implored him. 

He didn’t hesitate a second.

“Oh, yes. Stunning. Positively mind boggling.” 

“Isn’t it just?” She sighed. “I’m just so… wait.” She whipped around again and crossed her arms.

“HA!” Sebastian gave a rather loud and phony laugh. “Who’s the moonmind now?”

Anne kicked her brother before resting her hand on Ominis’s arm. He flinched, but only a little bit. He was proud of that. Thankfully, she didn’t touch his skin. That would have been far too much. He was only eleven, after all. He hadn’t realized it wasn’t normal for touch to be an awful thing. He hadn’t yet realized it wasn’t normal for parents to hit their little ones.

“I’m so sorry,” She said. “I truly didn’t mean to be so rude.”

Ominis just chuckled in response. “Don’t be. You’re not mean, Anne.”

The poor girl seemed so genuinely and deeply upset. It honestly floored him.

“No, no. I really will be more careful.”

“Don’t waste your breath,” He maintained. “It will happen again. And again… and again.”

He was, after all, quite used to much worse. 

Then the train pulled to a stop. Ominis was a bit thrown in his seat, but otherwise alright. Sebastian jumped up like someone had just lit off a Wizzpopper in their compartment. He and his twin were bouncing on their feet. 

“Are you ready, mate?” Sebastian prodded. Now, this made Ominis frown. He fleetingly reached into his robes to touch his wand. Still there.

“I… I think I’ll wait.” He said. Anne immediately frowned. 

“Wait?” She sounded like she couldn’t possibly fathom what the word meant. “Merlin’s beard! Why would you possibly want to wait?”

He caught himself swaying a bit again and corrected. 

“Less people.” He replied. 

“Oh… I see.” Sebastian nodded slowly. Then he giggled. “Dammit. I did it again.”

Anne hit him. For the fourth time. Ominis suspected she did that quite a lot. 

“Sebastian!” She admonished. “Language! There is a lady present.”

“Shit. Where?” He gasped mockingly. “Ominis, have you lied to me?”

They were trying to make him feel better. It was working. He smiled.

“Oh, I hope not.”

“Damn. Don’t say that, mate. You got my hopes up.” 

Anne died a little bit, smacking her palm against her forehead loud enough for Ominis to flinch again. He opted to change the subject before she did herself (or her brother) any more damage.

“Say, if the two of you live in this valley - as I assume you must - why take the train?” He wondered. 

“You talk so fancy,” Anne said. Not an actual answer to his question and she sounded rather sad. He decided then and there that he didn’t like it when Anne Sallow sounded sad.

He’d hardly had time to frown before Sebastian spoke up.

“Mum and Dad were so excited about it,” He said. “They ate up any bit of news they could. They so desperately wanted us to be able to ride.” The boy laughed and then his voice fractured - and not because he was an eleven year old boy. “They set aside some money. Put it in their will. Uncle Solomon says its just this once.”

“Oh.” And really. What else could he say? “You’re… orphans?”

The thought of simply not having parents seemed so foreign to him. But then again… perhaps not.

Before her brother could say anything brash (and he was going to judging by his intake of breath) Anne huffed and placed her hands on her hips. 

“That we are,” She said. “Come now. Looks like most everyone has cleared out.” 

She took him and her brother by their sleeves and promptly dragged them from their compartment. Sebastian was rather stiff - his footsteps gave him away. 

“You’re very brave, you know,” Ominis told the other boy under his breath. Sebastian froze.

“There are steps here, Ominis. Three of them. Be careful.” Anne informed him, remaining deliberately unresponsive to his comment. 

“Yes, thank you.” He pulled out his wand and it pulsed a few times. It vibrated, seemingly happy to be put to work after hours in his pocket. There were indeed three steps. Ominis liked Anne quite a bit. Thoughtful she was. Loud, but in a good sort of way. An honest way. His wand liked her too. She descended the steps first and her brother, though he didn’t turn to face Ominis, he did speak. His voice was quiet in an awful sad sort of way. 

“Brave… That’s not what people usually say,” He murmured. 

Ominis cracked a little smile. Noctua always said that a stretch of the lips and a crinkle of the cheeks makes people more at ease. 

“Well, I do like to be different.”

Sebastian huffed a laugh and helped Ominis down the steps. There was something warm about that. He was trying. They both were. 

However it was Sebastian who ended up slipping off the last step.

Ominis and his new friends stood at the back of a herd of eleven-year-olds who began to walk almost as soon as the three of them got off the train. They quickly followed. At the head of the pack was a man who introduced himself as Mr. Moon - the Hogwarts groundskeeper. He inhaled quite a lot throughout his speech and Ominis found that rather annoying. Speech patterns aside, the groundskeeper led them down a rather steep gravel-covered path. It was still rather slick from the afternoon rain, which the young Gaunt did not appreciate in the slightest, but really that only made something amazing happen. Every time he slipped (which was only thrice, mind you) Sebastian would catch him.

Ominis really didn’t need him to. He didn’t need help . In fact, he never really even lost his footing - just slipped a little. Yet, Sebastian was there. He helped, and not in a demeaning way. He didn’t say anything. Just helped. But that was enough and Ominis felt a little warm around him.

The next obstacle, however, was worse . 

There were many things that Ominis Gaunt did not like. He was a particular person after all. But rather high on that list was a simple little thing called water . He didn’t like it. He didn’t like floating in it, he didn’t like being doused with it, and he most certainly despised the thought of drowning in it.

Now, most unfortunately, he was led by this groundskeeper onto a dock of all things and waiting for the little first years, were boats . Waves lapped against the shore and the little wooden contraptions bumped against the dock. Ominis did not want to be in a boat. All the other first years were climbing on in and the boats rowed themselves away from the dock soon after being filled. Or at least, he assumed as much, as the accursed things bobbed their way out of his wand’s range. For the record, his wand was a little curious about the water. After all, it had experienced so little aside from the dusty wand shop which had housed it for most of its inanimate life. It wanted to learn of water, but Ominis would not indulge such curiosity. 

“Oh, how lovely!” Anne chirped. “Boats!”

“No.” Ominis said simply.

Sebastian frowned. “No?”

“No,” He said again. “I’ll not be getting in one of those things.”

“Doesn’t look like you have another option, mate,” Sebastian noted. “Thats the only way to get to the castle.”

He crossed his arms. “There are carriages.”

“Those carriages over there?” Anne referenced some point in the distance. “Good luck. They’re at least a hundred meters to our right and moving fast.”

Ominis hesitated. 

No,” He said again. “I’ll wait right here.” 

Now, he was fully aware that he sounded like a spoiled child. But really - Boats!

“Oh, come on. Its not that bad,” Sebastian tried to persuade him.

“Drowning at age eleven seems quite bad!” He exclaimed.

“Ominis! They’re leaving us behind!” Anne pleaded.

He huffed. “Then you two go on. I suppose I’ll not be receiving an education.”

“Not without you.”

The twins were then unusually quiet for a moment, and Ominis really should have seen it coming. But he would learn. One day he would learn. 

He felt a pair of hands grab onto each of his arms, and with a strength that belied their size, the twins lifted him into the little dingy waiting just off the dock. Ominis protested vehemently but that changed nothing. As he was set down, the boat rocked dangerously from side to side. He cried out, latching onto the sides with a death grip. But now that he was in the boat, it wasn’t like he could get out.

“You two are going to get it for this!” He spat - an entirely empty threat, but he felt it needed to be said.

“Whatever you say, Ominis.” Sebastian climbed into the boat next and Ominis just about lost all that candy from earlier as the thing teetered and tossed. Then Anne boarded next and all he could really do was grumble.

“Come on… you too,” Anne said once settled. 

Ominis frowned. ”Hm?” He hadn’t heard anyone standing behind their little trio - no breathing, no footsteps.

Yet, the boat rocked again and a pair of robes brushed over his leg. A tiny, quiet little voice apologized. 

“And what’s your name?” Anne asked as the boat began to move. Ominis just groaned.

“I-Irene.” This student was clearly a girl. She sounded more terrified than he was. “My name is Irene.” And she had a funny little voice too - flat and throaty, scratched up like she’d been screaming all day.

Ignoring the oohs and ahhs of his companions, (the other girl didn’t make a peep) Ominis tried very hard not to think about anything at all as their little boat approached the castle. Certainly not how just one wrong move would have him flailing in icy liquid until his clothing dragged him down to the depths of the Black Lake. Yes. He absolutely wasn’t thinking about that.

When finally their boats bobbed into a harbor that was apparently underground according to Sebastian, Ominis finally let himself breathe. Which was a relief as he was beginning to get a bit lightheaded. Sebastian and Anne climbed out first and together pulled him from the death trap dingy. 

“Alright, up and out now,” Sebastian urged the other girl. Very helpful these twins were, he decided. Ominis heard the clasp of their hands and then… a second noise, this one none too pleasant. See, Sebastian tugged on the girl’s arm and there came a loud, rather stomach-churning pop. Ominis assumed it was her shoulder.

The poor little thing hissed but miraculously stayed upright in the boat. Seeing as their little group was the last to arrive and most of the other first years were already filling out, the little mishap garnered little attention. However, Anne, always so concerned, was positively mortified.

“Bloody hell, love! Are you okay?” She immediately climbed off the landing and back into the boat, before helping to lift the other girl out.

“I’m fine,” Irene said, still so quietly. 

“I-I am so, so sorry…” Sebastian swallowed audibly. “I think you should get that looked at…” He sounded downright sick. There came another disgusting popping noise followed by a nasty grinding that made Ominis even more queasy than he already was. 

“Great gobstones!” Anne gasped. “Did you just shove your shoulder back into its socket?”

Irene seemed to back away a bit. “It's fine… happens all the time.”

“Alright…” Sebastian scratched the back of his head. “Wait a minute, are you an American?”

Ah, so that’s what was so odd about her voice! Ominis had been looking in the wrong place, so to speak. It was her accent that was funny. The little oddity was American. How… exotic. 

“Y-yes… I am,” Irene practically whispered.

“Well… God blind me,” Anne said.

“Language, Anne,” Sebastian teased.

“Oh, shove it.” 

Ominis just huffed, still rather grumpy - or at least reminding the twins that he had been. “Well, come on! Let’s not miss the sorting.”

Pulling out his wand, he and the twins followed after the rest of the first years. The strange American trailed behind them, quiet as a mouse. Destiny awaited them. And all four of them knew it. Perhaps, however, with all fate had in store for them, they shouldn’t have been quite so giddy.

#my name is cas and i write stuff #fanfic #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy ominis #anne sallow #my ocs #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis x oc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x oc #Ominis Gaunt x oc #character aesthetic #Hogwarts legacy character aesthetics #fan fiction #fanfiction #Hogwarts Legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fandom #garreth weasley #natsai onai #poppy sweeting #harry potter #wizarding world #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x reader

[abduloki]

She Hulk (Ep 8)

You can do something to change your life and help others or you can continue going down the same path hoping things will change somehow.

In other words, complaining gets you nowhere but changing does.

Matt Murdock’s been through shit, he got blinded as a kid when he tried to do the right thing to save others from accident, he got lost when his father the only person he knows him and loves him died, he found a teacher, Stick, who guide and “whipped” his butt into shape, developing his mental strength and senses, then gets betrayed by him, he fell in love with Elektra and he gets betrayed by her too, then he lost her, he fought alongside the Defenders, with Luke Cage, Jessica Jones and Iron Fist, and he almost died.

He earns the respect of the Punisher who sees beneath the cold and ruthless image of Daredevil lies the man of principle, Matt Murdock. 

He earns the respect of the Kingpin who sees him as a worthy opponent that cannot be bought with money like all the men he knows.

He earns the respect of the police officer, Brett Mahoney, who finally sees him as an extension of the law when it comes to someone like Kingpin.

The list goes on that I had to rewatch all three seasons to remember what else he’s been through that I do not remember as I write this.

Despite all the things he went through, he remained a good man, running a small law firm, helping others without caring about money but wanting to do good, which is why his friends Karen and Foggy, stood by his side although there were times when they were driven apart by conflict and life happenings.

He hardly smile but in this episode of She Hulk he smiles, a lot. At first I thought that it’s so unlike him but I realised a lot of other things must have happened in between season 3 of Daredevil and this episode of She Hulk that we do not know of. Seems to me that he’s finally made peace with his inner demons.

He’s changed. He’s able to let go of the past. Which is why he’s telling She Hulk to change as well. When life happens, it’s telling you something, it’s telling you to change, change your frame of mind, change your thinking, change the way you see things, if you remain as you are, nothing will ever change.

"First thing you need to understand is nobody feels sorry for you and nobody ever will. What it's gonna be Matt? You gonna spend your life crying yourself to sleep at night? Or you gonna dig deeper and find out what it takes to reshuffle those cards life dealt you? It's your call."

#she hulk #jen walters #daredevil #matt murdock #charlie cox #marvel #stick #scott glenn #elektra natchios #karen page #foggy nelson #the punisher #kingpin #netflix #defenders #luke cage #jessica jones #iron fist #wilson fisk #vincent d'onofrio #deborah ann woll #elden henson #jon bernthal #elodie yung #finn jones #danny rand #mike colter #krysten ritter #colleen wing #jessica henwick