#he would rather pretend it was an unfortunate accident

[ridiasfangirlings]

Rei and Mikoto have a hook up before either of them become kings and then later have to come to terms with it when they meet each other officially.

This is just making me imagine the two of them having like a drunken regrettable hook up and then a couple years later meeting in the park and Munakata is trying very very hard to act professional and Kingly and disapproving and Mikoto’s just like didn’t I fuck you once I’m pretty sure. Like maybe this happened at some point either before Munakata went to school overseas or while he was home visiting, say just a month or two before Mikoto awakens as King. Munakata has been convinced to try some alcohol for the first time and he’s feeling very rebellious because he’s not quite old enough to drink yet and he’s never disobeyed the rules before (maybe his brother made some comments about how it’s a rite of passage for high school kids but since Munakata’s going overseas to a fancy school he probably won’t ever get to do this, Munakata decides this is a new experience he must try. He doesn’t even consider making a fake ID and doesn’t need to, the bartender just gets swept up in his aura and doesn’t even ask). 

Munakata intends to only have a single drink but then he runs into Mikoto, who’s been doing some work as a bouncer for easy cash and so he can beat people up. They immediately clash and this turns into a drinking contest, which then turns into a drunken makeout in an alley with their hands down each other’s pants and eventually renting a hotel room. The next morning Munakata coughs primly, gathers up his clothes and leaves without a word, making a note that it seems he has finally had one of those new experiences he was hoping to try. Mikoto’s not surprised that Munakata just leaves and he doesn’t really care, it’s not like he was expecting anything out of this and hey it saved him from having to listen to that guy talk. 

Jump a couple years later and they meet as Kings, Kokujouji does notice that when he gives Suoh Mikoto’s dossier to the new Blue King Munakata raises an eyebrow and gives the smallest cough, like it’s barely a reaction but Munakata’s so completely in control otherwise that this is notable. He doesn’t give any indication when he runs into Mikoto for the first time either and it’s not until their third or fourth fight that Mikoto just grins and says Munakata’s become even more of a tight ass since they last met, Munakata notes that Mikoto is still just as uncouth and Mikoto just smirks because he figured this was the same guy.

 I imagine this being mostly a secret between them but everyone kinda knows something is up because every now and again Mikoto will make what seems like an innocent comment but gets Munakata noticeably annoyed, or Munakata will say something cold to Mikoto that feels weirdly personal and Mikoto looks a little more irritated than normal. I imagine Mikoto finds the whole thing sort of amusing in a ‘easy go-to way to piss Munakata off’ sense but he’s also not rushing to tell anyone else either. Kusanagi definitely ends up finding out somehow, imagine the two of them drinking at the bar and Kusanagi wonders why Mikoto sometimes acts like he and Munakata have known each other for a while and Mikoto just shrugs and offhandedly mentions he screwed Munakata once. Kusanagi’s in the middle of taking a drink and he spits it all over the floor like wait wait go back you did what. Mikoto doesn’t elaborate and now Kusanagi is just like seriously please tell me you’re kidding. Somehow this gets into the rumor mill and both Homra and S4 have gossip that Mikoto and Munakata are old exes, a rumor which neither King bothers to confirm or deny. 

[steddiealltheway]

Steve can see it in Max. That same loneliness and ache that he finds in himself. For him, it’s result of his parents leaving with no intent to return to him unless absolutely necessary.

He knows he was an accident. Or rather a mistake as his father used to call him when he was particularly angry. But it made sense to him. Steve's the reason his father had to marry his mother. He left him "trapped." And maybe no one says it out loud, but he can tell his mother feels the same way too.

But they must keep up appearances, right?

Which is what Max has been trying to do since Billy died, El moved away, and it's been just her and her mom. But she's been going about it through a different route - pushing people away all while pretending things are fine. But Steve sees the way she picks up the broken pieces of her mom and tries to put them back together - Steve's had to do the same thing before.

So, he starts sticking around a little longer. Offering her more rides to the arcade and around town to pick up groceries when she needs to. Sometimes he'll tell her about a new recipe he's been trying for a casserole and pick up the ingredients, pretending like the milk and butter he bought will spoil by the time he drives home from her trailer.

Of course, they both know it's a lie, but Max humors him and plays along. She'll let him cook dinner while she picks up the bottles her mom left on the floor, dumps out the overflowing ashtray, and feeds the dog. Usually, Steve will ask her what she's learning in school and linger a little longer than usual in hopes that she'll say more than the usual, "I don't know. A bunch of boring stuff."

But lingering has gotten a lot of things out of Max such as her love for Kate Bush, a story about El and how much she misses her, and short quips about Lucas before she gets a sad smile on her face. Steve doesn't really know what to say most of the time, but he hopes that just being there will help.

Unfortunately, lingering and just being there has led him to his current predicament of none other than Eddie "The Freak" Munson sitting on the hood of his car glaring at him as he walks out of Max's place. Steve jumps a little, startled by the figure on his car and becoming more hostile as he sees the expression on his face. He shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his pace. "Is there a problem?"

Eddie snorts humorlessly. "Christ. You're really going to pretend like there's nothing wrong with what's happening?"

Steve's brows furrow, entirely missing whatever point he's trying to make.

Eddie stands up and stalks toward him. "I see you, you know. Always lurking around when her mom isn't home. Coming out of her trailer late at night."

Steve laughs, finally understanding the absurd conclusion he's come to. "Jesus, man. You're delusional."

Steve doesn't expect it, but Eddie sharply shoves his chest and grits, "I don't fucking lie to me, Harrington."

Steve holds his hands up. "I'm not," he firmly states. "Nothing like that is happening here. I'm glad you're looking out for her, but it isn't like that."

"Do you expect me to believe that? Maybe this is why you're always hanging around Henderson and the other kids."

Steve crosses his arms and his jaw tenses. "I'm not a fucking pervert or a pedophile if that's what you're trying to say. I'm just looking after them."

"Why?" Eddie asks, dramatically opening his arms, "Why would King Steve adopt a group of misfits to take under his wing? See, the math isn't adding up."

Usually, Steve would just brush it off and tell the person to fuck off and mind their own business. But his parents have just left town again without leaving a note and Max had snapped when Steve tried to help her clean the place because it looked worse than usual, and he was just generally feeling like shit and angry at his parents and Max's parents for not being there. So he broke, "Because I don't want Max to end up like me! I don't want any of those kids to grow up without a role model. And god forbid if any of those other kids' parents fuck up, and they’re left with only me. I need them to know that I'm there for them! Because sometimes it feels like whenever the world goes to shit, I'm the only one who is there, and I plan to stay there, okay?!"

He finishes his rant breathing a little heavier than usual and noticing that a few of the lights in the trailers have turned on around them. He looks around and awkwardly nods to the people glaring out their windows. God, he needs to get a grip.

When he turns back to Eddie, he notices the conflicted expression, jaw dropped, eyebrows knitted together, eyes searching him as if he's still wondering if he's lying.

A door creaks open behind them and Steve curses under his breath as he hears Max say, "Eddie, leave him alone. Do you really think I would hook up with my damn babysitter? Jeez."

"Language," Steve quietly lectures as the door swings shut. He runs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. It's been a long fucking day.

A hand lands on his arm and tugs him away from Max's trailer. Steve glances up at Eddie, leading him across the way. "Where are we going?"

"My place," Eddie says.

"Why?"

"So we can talk."

God, the last thing he wants to do is talk to Eddie of all people, the guy he's been actively avoiding since Dustin started worshipping the ground - or rather tables - he walks on. But he lets himself be pulled away in the trailer and practically deposited on the couch in the living room.

He glances up and comments, "That's a lot of mugs."

"My uncle's, but that's not what I wanted to... Christ," Eddie says, pacing in front of Steve and tugging his hair in front of his face. The anxious display makes Steve feel even more tired, but he lets him pace. God, what is he even doing here?

"I'm sorry," Eddie blurts out. "I'm just..." he trails off and rushes over to grab a stool a few feet away before dragging it in front of the couch. He sits on it but his leg still holds that nervous energy as it rapidly bounces up and down. "I jumped to conclusions, and it was really shitty of me, man. I just... didn't believe what Henderson was saying about you and thought 'Oh, this makes way more sense than Steve Harrington being a good dude.' And I'm sorry to accuse you of that. And I... I didn't know about your... parents and stuff. Like I knew they were away a lot because of your parties but... I just never connected the dots. And I'm sorry. No one deserves that shit, man."

Steve doesn't know what to do this whole interaction, especially with it coming from Eddie Munson who he doesn't think he's ever talked to before this moment, but... he needs to hear it. God, he needs to hear it.

Of course, he can't let him know this, so he does what he's best at and brushes it off. "It's fine. You were just looking out for the kids. And really just ignore what I said back there, it isn't that big of a deal."

Eddie worries his bottom lip before he blurts out, "I know what it's like." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I mean, I know what it's like to have... absent parents. But in my case, eventually, my uncle Wayne took me in, and I can only imagine if he didn't." He gives him a pointed look and lowers his voice, "Do you have someone like that?"

A big part of Steve wants to leave right now, and he knows there's nothing stopping him. But a bigger part of him needs to stay. Needs to talk about the emptiness in his house that he can never truly escape at the end of the day that he can’t talk to anyone about. Because he's not supposed to be weak. He's supposed to take care of the others. So he admits, "No, I don't have... anyone like that. Except Robin but..."

"That's different," Eddie finishes the thought for him.

Steve nods. He loves Robin, but he loves her as a platonic soulmate and not as a parent figure in his life. "You know, I once had this basketball coach in middle school - Mr. Weston. And I remember looking up to him so much. I wanted to be just like him, and I would go to his office during lunch and ask him for advice or talk about dumb shit that my father would never talk about. But he never shamed me for my questions. And sometimes he even packed an extra dessert for me." Steve smiles at the memories and runs a hand through his hair, remembering the day he got the news. "But one time, when I went to his office, he had this look on his face. And I just knew it was bad news. And really, it wasn't bad news to him because his wife was pregnant. But she wanted to move a few states away to raise the kid closer to her family. And it wasn't his fault, you know? It wasn't like he purposely chose to move away from me, but I felt like I was abandoned again."

Steve wipes a tear from his eye and puts his head in his hands. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you this story. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Eddie says quickly. He pauses and shifts on the stool, his gaze being far away. "I remember him. He was one of the only gym teachers that defended me against all the shitty middle school bullies. He was a good person.”

Steve nods. God, he was a good person.

Eddie continues, “I'm sorry that he left. And I bet he still regrets leaving you behind."

Steve leans back against the couch and looks away, shaking his head. "I bet he forgot about me."

"You're kind of hard to forget."

Steve looks at Eddie and sees a slight blush on his cheeks as he shakes his head and waves his hands as if trying to make the comment go away. "What I mean is that there's no way he's forgotten about you. Someone who you used to have lunch with all the time to the point of giving you free food... Nah, man. He remembers you. I think you may have been as important to him as he was to you."

The thought breaks away at a wall Steve had built up long ago. "Thanks," he practically whispers.

Eddie just smiles at him, small dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"You didn't deserve it either, you know," Steve says. "The absent parent stuff. Even with Wayne, they should've been here too."

Eddie's smile falters a bit as he swallows and looks at the ground. "Thanks," he mumbles. He looks up at Steve and comments, "Getting sappy with Steve Harrington. Who knew."

"Yeah, getting sappy with Eddie Munson," Steve echoes back at him.

Eddie laughs, "I'm surprised you even know my name."

"You're kind of hard to forget," Steve says easily.

That same blush comes back to Eddie who shifts in his chair a bit as if he needs to process the information with his whole body.

They sit in the moment for a bit before Eddie gets a somewhat serious look on his face and offers, "You know, I'm definitely not a parent figure or anything, but I'm always here and around to talk about that whole thing if you need to."

Steve's heart beats a little faster at the sheer genuineness. "Same here," he can't help but offer in return. He glances down at his watch and sighs, "It's getting late, so I better..."

"Right," Eddie says, standing up and leading him to the door. "Do you need water for the road or anything?"

Steve smiles and pats him on the back without thinking too hard about it. "I'm good, man. But thank you. For everything really."

"Sorry for being an asshole," Eddie apologizes again.

"Usually that's my line," Steve accidentally voices before cringing a bit, wondering further why Eddie's been so kind to him.

But as he opens the door, Eddie comments, "I don't know. It seems like Dustin was right about the whole reformed jock thing. Maybe your crown really has fallen - which is a good thing by the way."

Steve slightly smiles at him before he turns to leave. But he can't help but say, "I wonder what the neighbors will think about me leaving your trailer so late."

Eddie groans then laughs. "Sorry to ruin your image."

"I wouldn't mind," Steve replies, honestly unsure what he means by that. "Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, that same blush on his cheeks, only this time Steve isn't sure if it's something he said or a result of the cold night air.

In bed that night, Steve feels a slight weight lifted from him and can't help but feel like he’s a little less alone.

[gemissleeping]

Sea Foam | Chapter Three

Theodore Nott x Siren!Reader

Read the other Chapters here.

Summary: It’s been three weeks since Theo found you by the Black Lake, and he’s tried his best to respect your wishes. But it hasn’t done anything to help either of you, and all of your efforts come crashing down in the bathroom at a Slytherin party.

Length: 2.1k

Notes: More of a Theo POV than the usual. Angry Theo. Teenage boys being teenage boys (foul and icky, nsfw language). Overbearing best friend Blaise. Smoking Theo. Slightly intoxicated reader. Soft Theo. Tears. I did not proofread this at all you have been warned, pls do tell me if there are any errors. Listen to Cinnamon Girl by Lana if you’d like to go through it. ily enjoy!

“You’re staring again,” Blaise grumbled under his breath from beside Theo in Divination. It had been three weeks since Theo had found you on the shoreline. Dressed only in your nightgown in the height of the winter frost. That crestfallen look on your face while the wind had bitten at you both. He’d tried his best to respect your wishes since then; making sure to steer clear of you whenever he could, to stop flitting through your mind like it was his favourite novel. He’d tried his best and still he’d failed, over and over.

He knew it was wrong, but he was beyond help. Slipping into your mind was unbearably easy. So much so, that he’d found himself doing it purely by accident on a few occasions, and he couldn’t quite figure out why. He knew you could practice occlumency, had even witnessed you obliterate Malfoy’s attempt at invading your mind in a Defence Against the Dark Arts class last year. Yet you barely even seemed to notice when he did it. Your apparent lack of awareness only made it harder for Theo to stop himself.

“Sorry,” Theo mumbled, blinking his trance away as he glanced over to Blaise with a dull apology. Blaise and Theo had become fast friends in First Year. After Cormack had made a comment about Theo’s Mother on the train, and Blaise had responded by hitting him right between the eyes. Blaise and Theo were close. Though not as close as you, Milli and Blaise were. Everyone knew that the three of you were utterly inseparable. Having met long before the rest of them at Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, it also meant that Blaise had adopted a tendency towards being irritatingly over-protective of you. Likely for good reason; Theo hadn’t made the best of impressions when it came to his relationships with women. They were often fleeting, borne of convenience and nothing more.

Which was exactly why Blaise was currently pissed with him. Blaise spent an awful lot of his time watching people. Regrettably, for Theo that included him, and these days he spent most of his time firmly stuck on you. To say Blaise wasn’t pleased would have been an understatement.

At this point, he may as well have been your damn guard dog, and Theo was tiring of the act quickly. He’d spent years wanting to know you, outside of the occasional class project. Years of pretending you didn’t exist for Blaise’s sake. When really, you were a large part of the reason that he had never settled on anyone to begin with.

Theo turned back to his parchment, huffing as he saw the ink stain leaking across the page. That, along with several half-finished notes, provided rather damning evidence of his distraction.

He stole a glance over at you again, keeping his head low in the hopes Blaise wouldn’t catch him. You were sitting beneath the window, stuck in a daydream of your own as Trelawney prattled on. Eyes misted over, one hand woven through your hair as you rested on it.

You were lovely.

Theo wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had resumed his staring. But as Trelawney brought the lesson to a close, the dull edge of a textbook collided with the side of his head in a singular, harsh thud. Breaking his focus on you as he looked up in bewilderment to Blaise, who stood with his edition of Astrology for the Ungifted raised.

“Git.” He hissed, lowering the book with scathing eyes.

Theo didn’t see you for the rest of the afternoon, not with Blaise practically escorting him to their dorm as soon as Divination concluded. Enzo was already there, lazily slung across his desk chair. Brow raised as Blaise entered in a huff, Theo trailing behind him in defeat. There was supposed to be a party in the Common Room tonight. But right now it wasn’t looking like Theo would be in for a particularly enjoyable evening.

“I know what you’re trying to do. You want to fuck her.”

“I don’t want to fuck her,” Theo winced at his friend’s choice of words.

“You don’t want to fuck her? You don’t want to fuck her?” Blaise rounded, textbook jabbing at Theo’s chest incredulously. Theo groaned, knowing Blaise wouldn’t rest until he knew Theo was being honest with him.

“No, I- fuck, fine. Yes, I want to. Of course I do, but that’s not-”

“Not what? Forgive me for my utter faith in your fucking abysmal track record. But she is my best fucking friend Theo.” Blaise snapped, turning from the boy’s dead-eyed stare and viciously tugging at his tie as he stalked towards his bed. Whipping it from his neck in a surge of anger.

Enzo rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. Watching the display unfold with anxious eyes as Matt cracked the bathroom door open, lighting up with sadistic intrigue. The pair exchanged a glance, the former silently begging the latter not to stick his foot in.

Theo felt his chest tighten at Blaise’s words. His hand running roughly along his jaw, trying to soothe his irritation. Gazing at the ornate wooden panels on the ceiling with a sigh before he attempted to break through to him again. It was out in the open now at least, it likely couldn’t get worse.

“You don’t understand, she-”

“Please, Nott. Tell me what I don’t understand about the girl I’ve known since she was three years old.” Blaise bellowed, reigniting as he swung back to the taller boy. The click of the door interrupted them.

“What’s with all the shouting? I can hear you fools from the hall,” Malfoy droned, bored as he kicked the door shut behind him. Flicking his wand to cast some sort of muffling charm across it.

“Fuck off, Malfoy.” Blaise sneered, not even glancing over to acknowledge his friend’s arrival. The words feeling far more aimed towards Theo than the blonde. Draco only sighed, moving past the both of them.

“None of you ever thank me for anything that I do for you,” He grumbled in response. Throwing a stack of books onto his bed before going to shove Matt out of the bathroom.

“If you even think about fucking touching her-” Blaise continued, steam practically rising from his skin as he narrowed in on Theo again.

“Oh, he has.” Matt interrupted, leaning back against Enzo’s desk with folded arms. Theo shooting him a heavy glare as Matt only smirked back knowingly. An expression Enzo swiftly answered by scolding him with a kick to the shin.

“Look at me, Nott,” Blaise demanded. His voice low, lip curling back in a sneer, “I’ll skin you, understand?”

“Listen, I-” Theo started, his own voice rising as his attention shifted back to Blaise, irritation swelling. But he was impossible to reason with when he was like this, everyone knew it.

“You don’t fuck with her,” Blaise cut in, his voice soaked with finality. Standing before Theo while his chest heaved with anger, book still clutched in his accusatory palm. Theo could feel his own restraint unwrapping. The other’s eyes on them only pushing him further into that corner of himself. He needed air, now. Or else he was going to do something he couldn’t undo. Then you were certain to never speak to him again.

Hands raised in silent surrender, he backed away from Blaise. Jaw set as he plucked his jacket from the end of his bed, turning for the door. Enzo’s tired sigh leaked through the dorm as he pulled it open harshly, likely readying himself to chastise Blaise. Something he’d also likely do to Theo when he caught him later. Though if he had any luck today, maybe Enzo and the others would already be drunk by the time he got back.

He made for the edge of the forest. Rolling a cigarette as he went, trying not to bite down on the filter between his teeth from residual disdain. The icy air was a small mercy, quenching the heat running through him almost immediately. For hours he stood out there, letting the smoke in to empty out all of the things he didn’t want to feel. Watching as the moon chased the sun down to the horizon.

The party would be well underway. God willing you hopefully had yourself tangled in someone else by now. At least then Theo might have been able to give himself a proper reason to stop, smooth things over with Blaise. Though he had begun to doubt if even that would work.

Theo made his way through the tangle of writhing bodies in the heat of the Common Room. No desire to taint himself further with the desperate need to forget that rolled off of the sweaty air. Matt was by the stairs, where the crowd thinned out at its edges. More enticed by the girl whose cigarette he was lighting than by any questions he might’ve had for Theo, as he continued his path to the dorms.

He had meant to go straight there. To take off his jacket, untie his shoelaces. Instead he found himself headed past his door, down to one of the communal bathrooms that lined the dormitory halls. He wasn’t sure why, until something tugged at him. Drawing him to push open the bathroom door; and there you were.

Gaze flitting to his hazily in the mirror. Eyeliner smudged, haloing your eyes. You stilled where you had been standing, as if he had walked straight out of your thoughts. Softening as you took in his wind kissed hair, and he the tremble of your fingers on the countertop. Theo pushed himself away, against the pull of his chest, away from what he wanted. He made for the door again, unsure of why he had allowed himself to be led to you to begin with.

“You weren’t at Dinner,” you called softly, not daring to turn and look at him without a reflection between you. He stilled, one hand on the door as his heart hammered at his ribs.

“You told me to stay away,” he answered simply. Afraid to turn around in case what he saw laying in your eyes only salted the wound some more.

“Not that far.”

You breathed, turning to face him. Eyes aching to touch his cheek, graze across his thoughts, his desires. Theo’s hand dropped from the door, chest swelling from your proclamation. He could feel his breathing falter, hear the force of it. He turned hesitantly, a rasp collecting in his throat.

“Well how far would you like me?”

He saw your breath hitch, didn’t even have to scratch at your mind. You seemed to be leaking into his on your own accord. He could hear just how far you wanted him, and it wasn’t far at all.

Your lips parted, so he made sure to be the first to speak. To save you both the trouble.

“You’re drunk.”

You shook your head, eyes growing glassy with the salt of tears as you moved towards where he leant against the door.

“I’ve been getting your little messages. The ones you keep leaving for me to find,” he murmured. Suddenly enraptured by his hands as his voice creased over his words.

“Theo-”

“It’s unbearable for me. Is it like that for you too?” He cracked, eyes flashing up to yours. Entirely afraid before you, before the possible weight of your answer. Because the truth was he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t tell which words were real and which you fed him to keep him at arm’s length. He searched you, begging for any kind of answer, but hoping only for one.

“Yes.”

Your tears spilled in an instant, and maybe you were a little drunk, but you were also sure that it didn’t change any of it. He knew as much, taking a tender step towards you to grasp your cheek. Running his thumb along the soft skin to collect your tears.

“This trance you seem to think I’m under,” Theo clarified, eyes lingering on yours as his thumb continued its path. Despite no longer having any need to do so. “It’s lasted five years already,” he breathed, “it’s not going to pass any time soon.”

You paused, smudged eyes widening as you gazed up at him. His confession sucking the air out of your lungs until you could no longer doubt that you needed him. You simply watched him for a moment, as though debating whether to say something you wouldn’t be able to swallow. The one thing that was still holding you back.

“I don’t know how to stop myself.”

“Then don’t,” he whispered, leaning closer to brush a strand of hair from your eyes. “You don’t need to be scared of wanting this.”

Theo drew back slightly, letting his fingertips linger. Brushing through the strands of your hair, behind your ear. His voice gentle, certain, “I’ll be here, whenever you’re ready.”

Keep an eye out for Chapter Four here, or comment to be added to the tag list for future updates <3

Taglist: @hemlockmuncher @hoeforvinniehackerrr @moonlightttfae @thecraziestcrayon @itssomeonereading @leona-hawthorne @liaaanie @not-so-bad-ass @wildestdreamslover @slytherinboysappreciation @nat1221 @melllinaa @aykxz98 @chgrch if i missed anyone please let me know!

[vhstown]

ain't no love; pt. 1

"ain't no love in the heart of the city"

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SUMMARY: Miles Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, and the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 PART 1 / PART 2 →

chapter summary: [READER POV] The one day you decide to skip breakfast, your deskmate comes in. AP Calc has never been more unbearable — and interesting.

content/warnings: brief mentions of death, depictions of hunger, a little bullying </3

word count: 4.8k

a/n: first series idk what im doing BUT WE ROLL (criticisms accepted lmao) proofread courtesy of @qiuweyballs you're a real one

You were starving. In AP Calc, no less, with probably the least talkative bunch of students in the whole school, the period before lunch. Whoever made your schedule was a monster, and whoever put this class together was even more of a monster. Everyone was dead silent, which was usually fine, but not when your stomach was threatening to detonate a nuclear grumble. Maybe it’d even echo given how big the classroom was. It was too early in the year to have a mental breakdown, though — you’d save that for midterms.

Even the teacher found the silence awkward, muttering to himself as you walked into the dreary classroom. He was a bit of a pushover, Mr. Wellston — a newbie who really had no idea what he was doing besides fixing his unevenly cut hair every two seconds while everyone pretended to know what was going on. God bless AP Calculus; you didn’t even know how to do the starter activity on the board.

But your teacher’s ridiculous inadequacy didn’t matter right now. The most important decision you had to make was what poor soul you were going to look at sideways when everyone turned to the source of the growl. Being nice wasn’t exactly an option when you were 3 seconds away from dying of starvation.

Thankfully, you were at the back, and the only seat next to you was empty. It wasn’t so bad, you tried convincing yourself as other students started to fill up the seats in front of you. Maybe you'd even forget about how hungry you were if you engrossed yourself in "one of the most riveting fields of mathematics", as advertised by your freshman year math teacher. Just one hour. You could hold back your hunger for one hour.

"Attendance..." Wellston murmured, looking around the room without much attention. It was reasonable to assume was here as usual, except for one kid who'd been absent since the first week. "Morales" — you didn't know his first name, not like you had the chance to learn it.

Scribbling down whatever activity there was, a part of you was glad this kid wasn't here today. It was one less person to hear the result of your unfortunate choice to not have breakfast this morning. You'd never spoken to the kid, but everyone knew why he wasn’t here. The renowed "hero", PC Davis had passed away — his dad. It was all over the news: "PDNY OFFICER DIES SAVING A CHILD", around mid-freshman year. You couldn't guess what was going on with the kid almost 2 whole semesters into sophomore year, but you couldn’t exactly think too hard when your pen had barely touched the page, and your other hand was clawing into the side of your shirt.

You were sure your stomach was going to growl, and loud. And your teacher was looking at you. Pretty much every muscle in your face was straining. You probably looked insane, which you’d actually rather be right now. The worst he would make was a bad joke, but the sheer panic that rose in your chest when Mr. Wellston started to walk towards you made your heels dig into the ground, ready to bolt out the class. You were exhausted, anxious, praying to anything you could think of that your teacher would just turn around and stop looking at you and—

Creak... Everyone's eyes, including Mr. Wellston's, turned to the door. You could make out someone with a black jacket — teacher? They wouldn’t let you wear jackets inside. Not important. Water.

"Nice seeing you here, Morales," Wellston said, his expression as unamused as he could attempt. The pushover was feeling confident today.

You drank so much water that it got stuck in your throat for a moment, making you scrunch up your face. "I'd take off that jacket if I were you,” Wellston continued.

The boy obliged with an incoherent mumble, stepping into the classroom and slipping off his jacket. His eyes landed on the seat right next to you. Even if he wasn't looking at you, something about his gaze made you look away immediately. Great. 53 minutes until lunch. Why did he have to show up today? Why did you wake up late and skip breakfast? A part of you was telling you it’d be better to not blame it on this guy either — maybe it was your gut. Ha-ha. Maybe you were insane.

Screeech! The slap of a notebook next to you snapped you out of your mini-spiral. You were now all the more aware of the boy next to you. His attendance was so low that it competed with your will to live, so you couldn’t help but look. His hair was in two braids slipping just past his collar, but that’s all you dared to notice. They were kind of cool, you admitted to yourself. The muttering was quickly shut down by a grating "Focus!" from Wellston, and you tried to get back to your work.

Calculus, calculus... When was the last time you’d gotten a question right? All you could do was keep uselessly pressing the fraction button on your calculator, watching the empty boxes stack up. It felt like he was staring at you. Math, come on, you know math. What was the probability he was looking at you? What if he was just glancing at you? What was his eye colour? Black or dark brown, probably. You could check — if he was staring, of course. Not his eye colour. That'd be weird.

That tight feeling built up in your stomach like the foreshock of an earthquake. You pictured yourself slamming your head into the desk, far too vividly to be normal — like an insane person. No need to traumatise the “new” kid on his first day back.

"Alright class, considering we have a full house now," You stopped yourself from imagining Wellston’s head slammed into a desk. "I suggest you all try to solve this problem. It's the hardest question that's ever come up on Calc BC, and you're getting secret access to it."

Yeah, like you cared. This man did not have a lesson plan, as usual. Now you had to fight the urge to look at the kind of cool kid next to you, fight your hunger like a famished Victorian child and fight the stupid calculations forming a jumbled mess in your brain. You were fighting a lot of things, and losing miserably. Just looking at the question made your brain hurt, and you could see it in the rest of your class too. All Calc BC nerds who were just now realising their mistake in taking this class with this particular teacher, probably. Visions was a scam.

"Does anyone have an answer?" It hadn't even been two minutes; it was like the man just wanted to feel smarter than everyone else. Something about him today was even more annoying than the pitiful jokes he usually came up with ― just because a "new" kid came in? Maybe this was to make up for the first day of class where he totally embarrassed himself mumbling all lesson, the bell ringing overtop of him.

The awkward silence and the slight cocky curl to the corner of Mr. Wellston's mouth made you question why they hired someone who was fresh out of college to teach you the classes that were supposed to get you into college. Your frustration only grew when you were going in circles with your attempt.

"No? Guys, you that you have a midterm soon." Helpful.

"This is more simple than you think." Explain it, then?

"Nobody? Really? Okay, you really should start paying attention, the―"

"Six." You almost forgot about the kid next to you until he spoke up. He put down his pen, giving Wellston an expectant look while the whole class was silent.

"…Six what?"

"Litres per hour."

The man quickly shuffled to his computer. Of course he didn't know the answer either.

"Six litres per hour," Wellston confirmed. No other kid had a chance to retort. Wellston seemed surprised for once. A part of you was surprised too at how simple the answer sounded when it came out of the "new" kid's mouth. You noticed that the boy didn't even have a calculator.

"Well, it looks like you all have something to learn from Morales here," he continued, something almost like contempt in his words. "Do you want to explain how you got that?"

The boy went about explaining it pretty simply, almost like he was reading off of a script. It was concise, different to what you'd learnt. Something about chain rule, which you truthfully had no idea how to actually use because someone didn't bother to go through it properly. Even if you were still somewhat unsure, it sounded easy enough.

"Interesting method..." Wellston murmured, trailing off for a moment. "Well, that settles it then. Do you guys understand how we got six?"

We? This guy... Aside from the fact that he was looking at you a little too much for comfort (probably because you were still clutching your stomach like you’d been shot) you had another reason to be annoyed by this teacher and his stupid hair. Everyone just returned his question with silent nods and mumbles, people taking opportunities to actually look at the calc-wiz.

You took a chance too, looking over at his seemingly unbothered face. You were almost right about the brown eyes. They were more coppery than anything, maybe even a little green. If he was staring before, you couldn't tell, his gaze trailing his desk with disinterest. Why did his eye colour even matter?

Forty minutes of class to go. You felt like you could eat your calculator at this point. The mystery kid didn't seem to need one anyway, and you weren’t getting much use out of it.

BRIIIIIIIIIING!

"The bell doesn't―" The screeching of chairs cut him off.

Like that would work this far into the semester. The Morales kid was already gone by the time you'd stood up. Letting out a drawn-out sigh, you debated between your tiredness and hunger. Would you try to fight to the death to get to the front of the lunch queue? All you wanted was food, maybe a nap afterwards, definitely no more calculus.

That couldn't happen, of course. For some reason, you were the only one left in class. You heard your name, wincing a little as you stopped in your journey out of the door.

"I just want to speak for a moment, spare me a few minutes?" You figured this was coming. It looked like he wanted to speak to you about something all class; his expressions weren’t exactly mysterious like that new kid. You wanted nothing more than to strangle him with his ugly patterned tie as you walked over to him.

Mr. Wellston leaned on his desk by his elbows, lowering his voice as if he was about to tell you something serious.

"You're not doing very well in this class." Okay… not that serious. "It’s the longer questions, I think. FRQs.”

Your grogginess made it impossible to focus on Wellston’s rant, but what you did pick up on was his weird accent. You guessed he wasn’t from Brooklyn, but the way he was talking right now let you pick up on the strange intonation in his voice you otherwise wouldn’t care to notice. Almost European-sounding. First that kid's eye colour and now your teacher's accent... what was it with you and random details today?

"So..." he continued, looking up at you with his head still low. "I'm going to start an extra class after school. I want you to come to it." Okay, this is worse. You couldn't have lunch, and now you couldn't even have after school.

"When is it?" It better not be some unreasonable time.

"Well, I've only got Friday afternoon free. You know how it is, meetings..." If he was trying to be apologetic, or convincing, he was failing at both. "I'll call you in later to discuss it further."

You just nodded, the grip on your backpack tightening. "Okay."

"It's important that you come!”

His voice was drowned out by the flood of students in the hall as you shut the door, turning on your heel to head to the cafeteria. The line was probably impossibly long by now. You couldn't care less about that extra Friday class. Forget college. You'd be a bum, or work at a WcDonalds. You'd probably make more money than Mr. Wellston there anyway. Forget Visions.

Forget that Morales kid who was standing outside the door all that time while you were too frustrated to notice.

You slumped down onto an empty table as you tried to rid your mind of him.

The probability that he'd show up to class with his cool braids and coppery-green eyes again was too low for you to care anyway.

"Soy Miles. Miles Morales."

Calc-wiz, or Miles as you just found out, was also in your Spanish class, and was also sitting directly behind you. It seemed like he was coming into more classes than he had been all semester — good for him?

"Morales… ¿Eres hispano, Miles?" (Are you Hispanic, Miles?) Miles simply nodded while Mrs Hernández flicked through the worksheets, licking her finger to set them down on individual desks. Spanish was one of the classes you actually liked. Apart from your classmates, Mrs Hernández was funny, and a good teacher, even if she was a little strict.

She paused for a moment to look at Miles again, eyebrow raised. "¿Guatemala?"

"Puerto Rico." The woman's raised eyebrow fell along with the rest of her expression, eyes narrowing in disappointment. She was always talking about where she was from, Guatemala. You found it kind of endearing, though you weren't sure if she'd get any teaching done if there was another kid from there.

"All these years y nadie de Guatemala..." (and nobody from Guatemala...) She simply frowned, cracking her knuckles while making her way back to the front. Most of the people taking AP Spanish were Hispanic, just trying to get extra credits, but it seemed like Mrs. Hernández was out of luck when it came to finding her natural favourite. "Vale clase, quiero que miren este articulo sobre―" (Okay class, I want you to look at this article about―)

All that class you felt like Miles was staring at the back of your head, of course. If he wasn't uncomfortably silent, he was conversing with Mrs Hernández, and she came over more than once to talk to him behind you. As much as you wanted to overhear, they were talking too quietly and quickly — and in Spanish. What they were talking about wasn't your business — most likely about his absence. You had also no idea what this article was talking about. It was something about art, but most of the words you were reading were unfamiliar as your highlighter hovered uselessly over the paper.

It had almost been a week since Miles first came in. You constantly saw him get pulled out of class or talking to teachers — except in AP Calc; it seemed like he was doing just fine there. He could speak Spanish fine too, but was behind on everything else. Other than teachers, he never really talked to anyone. You occasionally saw him with his earbuds on in the hallways, but more often his jacket was what got him chased down by teachers; the kid didn’t really seem to care. Good for him. He was probably more ahead of you anyway given the way your studies were going.

“Oye, look a little alive!” You noticed Mrs Hernandéz standing over you, and that your highlighter bleeding through the paper from pressing too long. A half-hearted “lo siento” (sorry) is all you could offer. “Extraño (strange) — What's different today, chicos? Is it because you’ve got a new friend here?” She crossed her arms, eyeing everyone with her brows knitted together.

The atmosphere around Miles was strange. Not only was he known for being missing since freshman year, but also for his late father. It wasn’t a secret, as much as he didn’t talk about it. Everyone could tell from the way teachers whispered to him and how he disappeared to the counsellor’s office that he wasn’t treated like any other student here. In fact, he didn’t even live in the dorms according to what you’d heard. He was quiet, but the rumours were undeniably loud. You tried not to involve yourself — you hadn’t even spoken to him yourself, anyway.

“He’s not the only Puerto Rican. You gonna forget about us, Señora?” The voice made you hold back a sigh. When Rafael started speaking there was no stopping him. You figured it was time; no matter how far he was moved from his friends, he always found a way to talk to them from the other side of the classroom. He was also right next to you. You had a few reasons to want to drop this class, and each of them were all going “yeah” in agreement to what Rafael had to say.

“I think you’ve forgotten that you have an article in front of you, Rafa.” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at your teacher’s words, and nickname. To your dismay, Rafael noticed you immediately.

“You makin’ fun of me, bro?” He turned his head to stare at you.

“Rafael,” Hernandéz warned.

“Nah, Señora, you don’t get it, I should be sitting over there.”

She wasn’t amused by the way he was gesturing to his friends. “I’ll kick you out.”

“Come on man…” He just threw up his hands and sunk into his far too tiny chair. You prayed he wouldn't start rocking on it and make that god-awful creaking sound. Mrs. Hernández simply turned to ignore him and continue with class.

“Why’s he special anyway?” Rafael mumbled to himself. “Famous cause of his dad?”

Tension – it was so thick you could cut it. The only thing that was cutting through it, apart from your Spanish teacher’s rant, was Miles’ gaze. You could feel it burning right through you. It seemed like Rafael, the moron, for some twisted reason, wanted Miles to hear that.

If you had anything to say at all, it was too late to give Rafael a piece of your mind. Considering how quickly he'd shut you down, it would be useless to stick up for some kid you barely knew. Nobody else heard Rafael anyway; it'd just pit everyone against you. Still, a part of you felt bad. Even though you didn’t really know Miles, he was in a lot of your classes. You’d gotten used to his presence over the past week: moving out of the way so he could get to his seat, occasionally picking up each other’s fallen pens, giving unshared glances to see how the other was doing on the work.

He seemed nice enough despite the lack of words you'd exchanged, but when you turned a little to fix your chair, the expression you caught was anything but. It was almost scary, if you could make out anything from his darkened features. There was a strange sense of focus in his eyes, like he was calculating something – deliberating. You didn't try to guess what, keeping silent and trying to listen to Mrs. Hernández talk about the article while ignoring the deadly gaze simmering behind you.

If you were stronger, scarier, more influential, maybe you’d punch one through Rafael right now. Just looking at him was irritating, and it's not like you hadn't thought of it before. Maybe you wouldn’t have to, though, because it seemed like Miles was thinking the exact same thing. As much as you wanted to learn Spanish and not have a fight happen right next to you, it’d be nice if he was able to teach Rafael to shut up instead of the material he didn't seem to care about.

Miles didn’t look particularly strong — he was kind of scary-looking right now, but that didn’t mean he could take on a 6ft tall football player, no matter how pissed off said football player made him. You couldn't tell what he was thinking, but Miles stayed put for the rest of class; it felt like a sniper was right behind you.

The all-too-familiar creak of the chair made you automatically grit your teeth.

“Oy, mi pana, you got gum?” Rafael murmured to you in his worst friendly voice. It was 10 minutes till the end of class, and he was asking now? You still had no idea what pana meant since he moved next to you, but the way he said it always made you feel icky regardless.

You quickly shook your head, getting a sigh out of him. You hoped he’d give up, but he just leaned over to whisper to you. “What do you think of that dude, huh?

“What?”

“Strange, yeah?”

“He’s okay.” Your defence was quiet, but it was the most you could do as you heard Miles scribbling right behind you.

“He’s drawing, dude.”

You looked at him almost incredulously. Rafael just rolled his eyes.

“Why do you care?” Your voice came out louder than you wanted.

“¡Silencio!” You gave Mrs. Fernandez, another one of your muffled “lo siento”s, shrinking into your seat as her eyes locked onto you. Snickering from Rafael’s friends only fuelled the embarrassment surging through your cheeks. Miles shuffled in his seat behind you, followed by the sound of paper being crumpled up. You wanted to crumple up the smug expression plastered on Rafael's face right now.

Class ended with another stack of homework in your backpack, and you were more than happy to leave. Free period — you could get a start on the homework. Or talk to Wellston about that extra class. The thought made you wince, but you didn’t exactly have a choice. You had to see him by the end of the day.

“Ay, Milo!” You turned to see Rafael and his little group approaching Miles’ desk. “What’s good?”

“Nothing.” He kept his voice low, pushing his chair under the desk. The boys just laughed as he got up, a grating mix of malice and mirth.

“Right, right. Puerto Rican, eh?” It sounded like Rafael was just talking for the sake of talking. You were also standing for the sake of standing too, of course.

Miles let out a mumble as a confirmation of sorts. Heading for the door, he was blocked by Rafael.

“Ay, where you goin’? Let’s talk, huh? Got a free period?” You could see Miles’ eyes narrow, a flash of impatience in his demeanour before he let out a breath. Rafael was trying to get a kick out of this. A kick out of some kid with a dead dad.

“Someone’s waiting for me.”

“Huh? What’d you say? You got friends?” The start of more laughs were already forming around Miles.

You didn’t know what came over you. Maybe it was the regret of not saying anything earlier, or the strange intrigue you’d felt since a week ago. Peeking your head through the door, you took a step back into the classroom. “Miles, c’mon.”

The gnawing feeling only intensified as you felt four sets of eyes on you at the same time. You’d rather it be hunger than the anxiety coursing through you at that moment.

“Comin',” he murmured, shoving past the three boys towards the door.

The two of you left the classroom, hearing a faint “what the hell man?” as the door fell shut. Miles lingered behind you as you approached the next turn in the hallway.

“What’s your name?” He’d already stepped in front of you.

No thanks or anything? Well, he didn't really owe you anything. It was "the right thing to do", like the many anti-bullying posters around the school encouraged you to do. God damn Visions.

“You uh… know my name.”

“Wanna hear it from you.” His voice had a little twinge of an accent that you hadn’t noticed before. You tried not to think too hard on it. Too many details for too little of an interaction.

“You’ve gotta introduce yourself first — pretty sure that’s how it works,” you tried to joke, something like embarrassment replacing the lingering anxiety in your stomach.

“I did — in class.” Miles’ face was unreadable, but there was something like amusement in his voice.

“Not to me specifically, though.”

The two of you stood in the hallway as people ushered past you. A freshman almost hit you running past, making the two of you retreat to stand beside some lockers. Damn freshmen. You were a freshman only last year, but shoving past them in the cafeteria wasn’t exactly fun. Miles seemed unbothered, as he usually did.

“You seriously don’t know my name?” you continued, almost frowning a little.

“Let’s say I don’t.” He leaned back against the cold blue metal of the lockers, tilting his head at you. The tiny mannerism only made your embarrassment grow. “What’s your name, pana?”

“…I still don’t know what that means.” The frustrated sigh you let out made the corner of his mouth curl up.

“And I still don’t know your name, pana.” No wonder you didn’t bother to talk to anyone. It seemed like you never had the upper hand, first with Rafael and now with Miles. Truthfully, though, you knew which you’d rather talk to.

“Sounds like a food,” you continued, shrugging.

“Could be,” he pretended to muse. And to think you thought he was nice. You hadn’t decided to be annoyed yet, though.

“You know my name, Miles.” You must’ve looked funny the way you crossed your arms and furrowed your eyebrows, because that got an entertained breath out of him.

“Who’s Miles? Haven’t introduced myself yet.” His smirk wrote guilty all over his face.

“Milo, then?” It was a bit harsh, but his cockiness made you say it without much thought. The apology was written on your face already, and you unfolded your arms, deciding you couldn’t have Mrs. Hernandéz’s sass today.

“You wanna be called pana forever?” He slipped an earbud into one of his ears, the blue light flickering into life. At least you didn’t tick him off.

“Not like I care,” you murmured, trying to take a step away.

“Seems like you do.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you asked, trying to keep your tone in check as you glanced down the hallway.

“Do you?” You felt like you were talking into a mirror, one that reflected back a person that got all the more mysterious and annoying when you did.

“Yeah, actually.” Mr. Wellston’s class. The thought made your eyes narrow, probably in exhaustion, most likely in irritation. “Need to speak to a teacher.”

His brow raised in mild interest. “You in trouble?”

“I wish. It’s about some extra class I have to take.”

“Calc?” You turned to look at him again, and his expression was more knowing than curious now.

“How’d you guess…?” It sounded more like a statement, your tone more disappointed than surprised. Were you really that bad at Calculus? Maybe you did need this class, especially if calc-wiz thought so.

“…You have lunch today?” he thought to ask instead. For a moment, you were confused, until you remembered calc last week.

“Shut up.” Your cheeks burned, hand balling up the fabric of your uniform. God. Damn it. All.

“Aight, sorry.”

More silence. You should’ve blamed the growling on him.

“Why the class though? You failing?”

“I’m not failing… Just need some help, I guess” Your shrug wasn’t very reassuring.

“Anyone else goin’?” The longer he kept inquiring, the more you figured Mr. Wellston’s attitude was building up.

“No clue. Bet everyone else is gonna join, though. He’ll probably tell everyone anyway.” The people in your class were quiet, but desperate to out-do each other. Maybe the problem wasn’t you, but the fact that everyone else was trying so hard.

“He didn’t ask me.” The corner of his mouth dimpled into his cheek in thought.

“You’re good at calc anyway.”

“Haven’t been here a while, so I gotta catch up, right? Lemme come with.”

You tried to think of what to say as your hand found the back of your neck, but he was already walking past you. Miles looked back at you to see if you were following.

If he had somewhere to be, it didn’t seem to matter. You noted the slight rhythm to his step, wondering what he was listening to, and if his eyes were green or brown. Ripping away your gaze from him before you could chase that thought, you tried to dodge all the freshmen running around as the bell went for next period.

You had more questions than answers so far — both in your backpack to do this period and in your mind. Aside from Miles, you wondered what that extra class would be like, and what Wellston would say. A part of you hoped that Miles would be in that class with you, despite your less than favourable introduction. Maybe you’d figure out why the answer was six litres an hour. Maybe you could be friends.

What was the probability of that? Some questions couldn’t be solved with a calculator. But Miles didn’t need one, after all.

thank you for reading. im so tired of looking at this but its okay part 1 !!! hooray !!! next chapter is miles pov .... need more Substances in my Bloodstream before i post that though LMAO

reblogs appreciated!!!! go back to the series masterlist here or to my atsv masterlist here :)

[sitp-recs]

Drarry fics where Draco is absolutely whipped for Harry? Especially love when everyone seems to know it except for Harry. Thanks! :)

Hi there! It’s hard to see Draco let Harry do whatever he pleases even when he’s pining ahaha but I do have a few suggestions. Would highly recommend eidheann and lettered as authors who usually write fics with a hopelessly in love Draco:

The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by hiimcibee (T, 19k)

Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!

And Back Again (Where You Belong) by eidheann (E, 16k)

He thought back on their previous handshakes, and smiled faintly at the fact they always seemed to mean so much more to him than they did to Potter.

Whoo Knew? by oceaxe (E, 18k)

Despite having had a crush on his Auror partner for years, Draco's been biding his time and waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his case. But when Harry subscribes to a new wizarding personals service, Draco gets a wake-up call.

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (E, 19k)

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

Nothing But You On My Mind by Moonflower_Rose (M, 21k)

Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? Loads, as it turns out.

The Green Vial by eidheann (E, 31k)

After months of seeing Harry Potter walk into his Apothecary disappointed and hopeless, Draco offers to carry the baby that Harry can't. Now he's just got to hide the fact that he's been half in love with Harry for years.

dirtynumbangelboy by magpie_fngrl (E, 39k)

After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

Another Heart Whispers Back by slytherco (E, 53k)

At twenty-five, Harry Potter is still a virgin and sorely lacking in options to change that state anytime soon. To help him find a plus one for Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and maybe kill two birds with one stone, Harry’s friends set him up on a series of blind dates. The only problem is, there’s something not quite right with each of their candidates.

Harry Potter Gives a Shit by talithan (E, 58k)

“Where are you headed?” “No place special,” Draco fumbled, and flushed further. But then: “I can change that,” said Harry Potter.

Finely Drawn Lines by The_Sinking_Ship (E, 61k)

Draco doesn’t consider himself an artist (though the dozens of sketchbooks lining his shelves might suggest differently). Yet ever since Potter returned to Hogwarts, accepting a teaching position alongside Draco, his drawings have taken on a rather singular focus.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

[hoenoredone]

JEALOUSY

tags: sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, headcanons, explicitly fem!reader for naoya and yuuta. characters: nanami, naoya, yuuta, noritoshi

NANAMI KENTO

it really isn't that easy to make him jealous, whether on purpouse or on accident. it's not that he's confident in himself, rather that he trusts you completely. and when he does get jealous it's not because he thinks you're going to leave him, but because he desn't apprecciate not being acknowledged as your partner. so when it happens, he snakes a careful hand from your back to your hip and lets you continue whatever business you were in the middle of. he doesn't do it to show possessiveness, it's more of a reassurance to himself that you're right there, and you have no reason to leave him.

ZEN'IN NAOYA

it's not jealousy, he simply doesn't enjoy sharing his possessions. you are his wife, one of the trophies on his mantel. you are his – there is no doubt about that –, however he doesn't think reasserting his hold over you would hurt. so he shoves himself a step in front of you, between you and the unfortunate man who happened to be engaging with you, and sends a few arrogant choice words his way. he turns to you with a slight frown and grabs you by the waist to take you wherever he sees fit.

OKKOTSU YUUTA

not in public, he always manages to keep his composure. however once he gets you alone he starts the whiniest tirade ever. all jokes, obviously, and you're in on them too. you both find it funny to have playful arguments about you looking at other men and him at other women, and that maybe he should start behaving more like them than himself. he says it with a smile on his face, but you can tell it doesn't reach his eyes.

KAMO NORITOSHI

let's face it, this man is incredibly insecure. he hides it well – with measured words and controlled facial expressions – but let's not pretend as if he is not the son of a mere mistress. he knows how fickle and conditional affections can be, and although he realizes that it's just his insecurities stretching their black claws to the back of his neck, he just can't shake the feeling that this might be temporary, that you could find someone better. someone that could give you everything you want.

[morbific-or-felicific]

-AFTERSOME Featuring Alhaitham

Meaning: Astonishes to think back on the bizarre sequence of accidents that brought you to where you are today

Word Count: 1.3k~

Description: Your boyfriend Alhaitham fucks you at the park

Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach

Join The Tag List

It was a nice day. The sun was shining, and there was a warm wind blowing through the trees as you and Alhaitham walked through the park. Unfortunately, you couldn’t appreciate the lovely weather because you were rather preoccupied with the fact that your boyfriend wasn’t on top of you, fucking you so hard that you forget your own name. It was most inconvenient. You had been pretending to listen to him talk for the better part of an hour about some complicated book he had been reading. Meanwhile, all you could think about is the feeling of Alhaitham pushing his cock in and out of you while you were tied to his bed. Eventually, he paused, finally noticing that your mind was elsewhere.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No uh, everything’s fine.”

“No, there’s something wrong. I can tell. Now, tell me.”

“Okay so…uh…I uh…I’m kind of feeling a little bit horny…”

“Just a little bit?”

“Okay…maybe a lot bit.”

“Would you like me to fix that?”

“What do you mean fix…?”

“Yes or no.”

“Uh…yes? Yes.”

He gave you a smile that made you melt a little bit before walking away from you without another word. After a moment of confusion, you caught up to him. You didn’t want him to leave you behind, afterall. As he walked through the park, you noticed he wasn’t heading back to the car that the two of you had arrived in, but instead he was walking towards…the bathrooms? There’s no way he was thinking of fucking you in the park bathroom…was there? You watched as he paused at the entrance before glancing back at you, motioning with his head for you to follow him in.

You trailed after him, afraid that someone would realize what you were about to do if you moved too fast. You walked into the bathroom and saw him waiting for you outside of a stall. Thank god the bathroom was empty. He smiled at you again before walking in. You walked in after him; thankfully, the stall was rather large and fit the two of you without any issue. Alhaitham pulled you against himself and reached behind you to close and lock the door.

“So do you think you can stay quiet while I fuck you?”

“I…uh…maybe?”

Once again, he smiled sweetly at you as you felt his hands start to pull at your underwear; thank god you wore a skirt. He pulled until he had gotten them far enough down that you could step out of them with one foot. He pushed you against the stall door and moved a hand between your legs. He pushed two fingers inside of you, making you let out a soft moan. Your hand shot to cover your mouth, but before you were able to, Alhaitham caught your hand and pinned it to the door next to your head. He started quickly moving his fingers in and out of you; you had to practically hold your breath in order to avoid the little whines you wanted to voice.

“Is there something wrong, love?”

He smirked at you.

“Hm, maybe I can help.”

His fingers stopped moving inside of you, and he pulled them out and licked them clean. You blushed at the action and looked at the ground. He released the hold he had on your wrist and reached down to take off his belt. He grabbed both your wrists in one of his hands and held them above your head; he wrapped his belt around them and secured it before attaching your wrists to the hook above you on the back of the stall door.

Technically, you could move them off of the hook, but it would be pointless; because of the way they were tied, you couldn’t cover your mouth. Besides, your loving boyfriend might punish you if you so much as tried. Alhaitham slid his hands down your sides until he reached your hips and lifted you up, leaning your shoulders against the stall door. He reached down and undid his pants with one hand, holding you up with the other. He pulled out his cock and lined it up with your entrance.

“Remember, stay quiet.”

This time, you couldn’t fight the whine that came from you as he pushed his cock all the way inside of you in a single thrust.

“Nngh, Alhaitham I-”

He grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and stopping you before you could finish your sentence.

“I think you mean ‘daddy’, my dear.”

“Shorry daddy.”

He let go of your face and repositioned his hand on your hips before he started fucking you. You were confident that with how deep he was going inside of you, you would be able to see the outline of his cock in your stomach if you looked down.

Despite your best efforts, as he fucked you, little whines and moans were making their way past your lips. You felt him speed up a bit as a particularly loud moan left your mouth, but suddenly, he stopped moving completely.

“Daddy, why-”

He covered your mouth himself this time before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“Sounds like we have company.”

You tried to focus on what you could hear instead of the feeling of Alhaitham’s cock inside of you. You heard the tapping of shoes coming closer and the sound of someone on the phone; your eyes went wide. You prayed that, whoever they were, they hadn’t heard you call your boyfriend daddy…That would be a little bit of a give away. With his hand still over your mouth, he started to fuck you again, but slower this time to avoid any obvious noise from the door.

At this point, you could barely think at all; the feeling of his cock going in and out of you was making your mind go blank. But of course, he just had to push it. Alhaitham removed his hand from your mouth and brought a finger to his lips, telling you to stay quiet. He kept fucking you while he moved his hand down to play with your clit, seemingly determined to make you cum before the person you two were sharing the bathroom with finished their phonecall and left. He leaned in again to whisper in your ear; apparently, he was convinced that since the stranger was on the phone, they wouldn’t hear whatever he was about to say.

“Does that feel good? Do you think you’re going to cum for me like this? Hm?”

You nodded as emphatically as you could.

“Good girl.”

He kept fucking you and playing with your clit as you tried to fight the moans that threatened to escape from your lips. When he offered to make you feel better, you had thought he would take you home, not take you to the public bathrooms. You couldn’t believe that you were actually doing this. You were actually getting fucked by your boyfriend in public, and you were about to cum.

“I…I…I think I’m-”

You cut yourself off before you moaned.

“Are you going to cum?”

You nodded again.

“Come on, cum for me. Cum for daddy like a good girl.”

At that you felt yourself tip over the edge. Fuck, everything felt so fucking good. The risk of getting caught felt like it was making everything so much more intense. Alhaitham attached his lips to yours in an attempt to quiet any moans that you couldn’t stop. However, one or two moans still slipped through. He kept fucking you as you started to come down from your orgasm, still trying to reach his own end. Although, based on the way his thrusts had gotten rather sloppy, he was quite close.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum in you. Then we’re going to finish our walk with you all full of my cum, ok, love? Fuck.”

He finally came, filling you up with his cum and going still. You both rested there for a moment, catching your breath as quietly as you could. However, in the silence, you heard something that made you want to disappear.

“Ok dad, I’m going to go. I think there’s a couple having sex in here, so I need to go find another bathroom.”

Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @yourlocal-bunny @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga

morbific-or-felicific.

[starsurface]

these are great :) Plz plz mk1 headcanons for care-giver Liu Kang with a baby regressor

Oh my goodness, Liu Kang would be such a great CG!!!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Lord Liu Kang w/ Babyspace Regressor Hcs

🌟 Ugh, he's such a good CG :(

🌟 Another CG that does really good with almost all ages too!!

🌟 But absolutely adores baby regressors (guys they're so cute, come on 🥺)

🌟 Favorite CG nicknames are Dada, Papa, Liu-Liu, or honestly just babbling and grabby hands for him (he finds it adorable)

🌟 But will be absolutely floored if you called him any kind of CG indication nickname!!!

🌟 Favorite nicknames for you are Firestarter, Starlight, Sunshine, Baby, Sweetie, Honey, Little One, my Flame, Tiny Fire 🥺

🌟 If your nonverbal or just like babbling more than talking, he's actually very good at finding out what you want rather quickly

🌟 Tummy time is one of his favorite activities, especially if you lay on his chest (finds it really funny when you try to eat his nose at times)

🌟 Since your a baby, you can't really meditate with him, but it's another good opportunity for play mat tummy time that he'll have installed into his personal room

🌟 If you wanna try to meditated, he's very encouraging!!!

🌟 (^ But we all know either your going to pass out on his lap or slowly chew on all his fingers)

🌟 Very good and gentle with biters or chewers

🌟 Mostimes he'll just remind you that we don't bite and tease on whether your a baby or an monkey (meanie >:(

🌟 Will get you a super cute paci that's all decorated based off your favorite animal, or a dragon

🌟 I can see him really liking storytime, but acting out storytime (especially if he gets to pretend to be a dragon for whatever reason)

🌟 He's not very good at acting the parts, but he always gets you to giggle and clap your hands happily, so its always fun in the end

🌟 Very soft with padded regressors

🌟 Any accidents don't need a big fuss or a big cry about, it's all okay, Dade's here to help <3

🌟 If your a naughty baby that thrives off testing his patience? Psh, good luck, this man's patience levels are through the roof!!

🌟 Man has a constant watch over you, always making sure you aren't getting into too much trouble

🌟 Your safety is his number one concern, so matter how much you whine or pout

🌟 Very on dot with the rules unless your this tiny, because he understands that you might not know exactly what your doing wrong

🌟 Still won't let you eat more candy than necessary though >:/

🌟 Really easily persuade like Nightwolf though, just sit and look at the ground going ‘🥺’ and you'll get whatever candy you want >:3

🌟 Another big outside encourager

🌟 Will take you to his favorite hill with a blanket and some soft toys and you two can have a picnic!! :D

🌟 Even though this man's already very gentle with you, he becomes extremely gentle when it comes to naptime

🌟 There's not much fussing over naptime unfortunately :(

🌟 He'll set up a small naptime routine you two do together (put all the toys away, brush teeth, brush hair, get into soft jammies)

🌟 If you don't own any jammies, he will go out of his way and get you the nicest pair of jammies he can find (will probably do this if you do anyways, so you can match!!)

🌟 Amazing cuddles, especially in the winter!! He runs more warmer since he's the God of fire

🌟 Might suck a bit during the summers but he'll at least hold your hand or have one arm on you if you're too hot

🌟 If you regress negatively for any reason or just overall feel icky that day, he's very comforting

🌟 Rocking you, focusing all his time and attention on you, trying to make any bad thoughts or memories go away

🌟 He's very set on making sure his baby feels a little bit better by the end of the day, even if he has to do the most silliest things to make you happy <3

🌟 If you attempt any of his super awesome ninja moves while small he might just have a heart attack

🌟 Especially since your a bit too young to be attempting ANY of his really awesome moves :(

🌟 But if you lay on your back and do something similar to his bicycle kick, he'll look very proud in you

🌟 If you made him anything while small, he's keeping it and cherishing it like it's an artifact from ancient blah blah blah

🌟 Even if it was just a piece of paper with two wiggle lines because you got bored!! It's hanging on his wall and he's very proud of it

🌟 Is really good with hissy fits and getting you to calm down

🌟 Will walk around the room and bounce you

🌟 Generally just likes having you in his arms, your his baby after all <3

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

He's so Dad coded, I love him. :3

[sweetfire01]

It's a little shorter than I planned, but it was in my draft for too long and I wanted to post it, so I cut it the end. You'll read more in the next chapter. 👀

Baby dove pt.3 (Daddy!Howl)

It took you a while to calm down. Calcifer retreated to the back of the fireplace and you were grateful for the silence. You didn't know if there was anything else you should know, but surely you didn't want to now. Apparently, the only option available was what the demon said: waiting for Howl to get tired and hoping that it happens soon. The ringing of the doorbell startled you and you jumped up in fear, only to breathe a sigh of relief when you saw Markl, alone. You cursed yourself for getting so anxious just from the ringing of a bell, but you still didn't feel like facing that guy. You composed yourself and welcomed Markl, helping him carry in the groceries. You only got a fleeting glimpse of the city starting to light up for the evening before the youngest closed the door behind him, unaware of your problems.

Howl originally told you that he was the only one allowed to cook since the demon didn't like being used by anyone other than him. At first, like everything that happened to you these days, you didn't think about it too much. Now you wonder if it wasn't actually some form of infantilization towards you: you're too young to know how to cook, you could burn or cut yourself… In fact, now that you thought about it longer, he had never let you cook, if not sometimes "helping him pass the ingredients". Not wanting to get angry for the umpteenth time that day, you looked at what you placed on the table: delicious-looking fruit and vegetables, an already gutted cod and a new bottle of oil. "Howl asked me to buy some fish." Markl said with a rather disgusted expression, taking a stool and approaching the table. "It was the last thing I took. I didn't want to keep that smelly thing around all the time." Moving it away from him, he grabbed the cutting board and a knife. He held a turnip in his hand for a few seconds before starting to cut it, still pouting. "I hope at least these cover the disgusting taste." You wondered if Howl saw you the same way you saw Markl. A sulking child complaining about food he doesn't like while standing on a stool because the table is too high for him. You thought that at least the wizard didn't have to see you so short. Then you remembered that this kid at least could go out freely and be more useful than you in the kitchen. You started looking for a knife to help him as you listened to him complain about how he didn't want to eat fish for dinner. The implications of this hit you. "Wait. We don't…have leftovers right?" "No, the soup for lunch is all gone. Unfortunately." Yeah. Unfortunately. Having no leftovers meant he would be back earlier than usual to cook. You had hoped that you would be able to go to bed and pretend to be asleep when he returned. Now you were hoping that he would have some accident and wouldn't be able to make it home for a few more hours. You started to open the cabinet after you only found spoons and forks in the cutlery tray. The castle was cleaner since you arrived, but still very messy. You spotted a cutlery handle sticking out from behind the pile of plates, only to realize it was another fork. "Hey Markl, where are all the knives?" It was your only chance to do something useful in the kitchen, you weren't going to waste it. "Aren't they in the cutlery tray? I got this from there." "No, not even in the drawers." "In the sink? Howl was cutting some herbs for potions when I left. Maybe he left onethere." You checked but, apart from a cup and a bowl, there was nothing else. You looked through the shelves above but couldn't spot a single one. It didn't help that they were higher than your head. You wouldn't ask Markl to lend you the stool. The library? Nothing. You huffed in annoyance. "They are not here." Oh, if this was one of his tricks… "Well, you know how he is, he always leaves things lying around. When he comes back we'll ask him. Is there anything else missing to set the table?" You took 3 glasses scattered around, placing them on one side of the still clear table.

Then you pulled 3 plates out of the cabinet… and saw it. Behind the pile was a knife sticking out of a cup. A butter knife, sure, but still a knife. You grabbed it and triumphantly returned to the table, next to him. There were still some vegetables and you got ready to cut a carrot. Too bad the knife didn't cut. It simply rubbed on its surface. You tried using more force but the blade wasn't sharp enough. "Um, isn't that a butter knife?" Markl must have noticed your struggle with that damn carrot. "Yeah, I'm trying to cut it anyway." You snorted. You were almost tempted to break it in half. With bare hands. The boy took on a confused expression "Do you know that the butter knife…is used to spread butter? Have you never used it?" Oh god. Not him too. Not him too who treats you like a fool. “I know what a butter knife is for, thanks.” You gritted your teeth as you brought your attention back to that orange thing. You started cutting - no, rubbing - that fucking knife on that fucking carrot again. "But-" "I can do it." You cut him off. He shook his head, sighing "Come on, pass it to me, I'll take care of it." "No." "C'mon-" "No. I'll do it." "Now I understand why Howl never lets you help us in the kitchen." "What?!" You dropped the knife on the table and the moment you turned to look at him, he stole your vegetable. "Yeah, you'd probably just screw up." He stuck his tongue out at you before quickly cutting it off. That little…Now you were really getting offended. "That's not true! I'm capable of helping, you know?" “Yes, cutting vegetables with a butter knife.” "It's not my fault, there weren't any others." "But you can't use that!" "I wanted to try!" "Sure, next time you'll try it with a fork?" "Stop teasing me!" "You're the one doing stupid things." "It is not true!" "Yes." "No!" “Shall we talk about when you went out the other day and got lost? "What?!" You honestly didn't expect him to bring that topic up. But you couldn't accept that a brat younger than you was still putting you down. "There were just a lot of people, that's all. And then I bet you'd get lost too. In fact, you'd end up crushed because of how short you are." Now it was your turn to stick your tongue out at him and tease him. "Actually I left before you and returned safely. Oh, and I didn't need anyone to take me home." Or maybe not. Dammit. Losing an argument to a child about you not being a stupid child. "Well, I…I…I didn't need Howl!" You slammed your palms on the table and Markl flinched at your outburst. He looked at you with wide eyes as you continued to squeal. "I don't need him or you! Nobody!" He continued to stare at you in fear, shaking his head, but you didn't care anymore. "I want to get out of here! I've had enough!" "And where would you go?" You froze, two large hands resting on your shoulders, pulling you towards his chest. Markl wasn't looking at you. Slowly raising your head, you met Howl's smiling face.

[kuroshitsuji-scenarios]

welcome back, im glad to see you again!! <3

i wanted to send in the idea of undertaker x bizarre doll reader! i do writings of my own take on this with an oc of mine, and wondered what your take would be like!

hope youre doing well~

Your idea is very interesting, I don't think I've written anything like that before. 🤔 Thank you!

Undertaker:

First and foremost, we need to consider whether Undertaker would fall for one of his Bizarre Dolls or would make his beloved one one of them. Regarding the latter, I believe it's very possible that he would reach for such methods if his lover would pass away—especially if it was due to some sudden accident or illness and not old age. While he would be able to prepare for you eventually dying if it was because of the sheer nature and your mortality, the possibility of abruptly having you taken away seems like it could cause quite a shock for him and make him do everything in his will to bring you back.

Either way, I don't think Undertaker is capable of handling the death of his closest ones in a healthy manner. Not anymore.

In some eerie, disturbing way, he certainly would be very attentive and caring for his lover's body during the whole process of changing. He would caress your hair, hold your hand and constantly reassure you that it's alright, that he won't let anything bad happen to you anymore and that soon you'll be able to talk again. As twisted as it sounds, he would still remain rather respectful—asking for permission before bathing you with a sponge and gently putting on new clothes, careful to not touch you in any way which could be considered inappropriate. He would be here to help you, after all, not to profane your body.

The amount of waiting would be the worst and somehow it would surprise him that his patience is growing thin in this case. He has always considered himself as a rather patient person, valuing time and effort instead of spontaneous decisions but when it comes to you, he would find it difficult to focus on anything else. Undertaker would keep an eye on you, constantly making sure that you're safe, your head rests against the soft pillow and your favourite scent fills the air. He would want to make you feel like home, as if it was nothing but a long nap.

Once he would have you back, however, he might be rather... disappointed. It was completely different when it came to strangers or people he didn't care about in the slightest but you—oh, he could clearly see how you changed. Not in a physical way, not necessarily, but your behaviour, your humour, your whole personality... He could pretend to not notice it but deep inside he would always know that you went to the place far away and no matter what he did he couldn't completely bring you back as a whole.

He would be devastated. Holding you close, smelling your hair and running his thumb up and down your shoulder, he would consider letting you go. Still, the mere thought would cause him even greater pain than the possibility of never meeting you in the first place. Undertaker would remain loving and caring, trying to humour you with his jokes and constantly keeping an eye on you just in case someone tried to take you away from him again. Unfortunately though, the guilt and loneliness would keep consuming him from the inside.

Things would be rather different when it comes to him falling for someone who was already one of the Bizzare Dolls. At first, he might not get any interest in you, your personality, your past or anything related to you, too focused on his own goals to pay attention to the nameless pawns... But as the time passed, Undertaker could notice that you were somehow peculiar. You weren't a mindless creature as his first Bizarre Dolls, on the contrary, you were amusing and fascinating. His interest, however, would be based purely on the fact that he didn't know you before. Perhaps he would grow fond of you even more while you were still alive but this kind of situation was out of subject so he wouldn't dwell on that. What mattered is that, how he actually enjoyed your company.

It was hard to tell whether death sharpened or dulled your personality but Undertaker knew one thing—this version, the current version, was something he liked. As ironic as it sounds, you made him feel almost alive, relieved after a day of hard work and content in your arms. You would be one of the few to prove to him that his experiment was, indeed, a success.

[edensrose]

Do you have any headcanons for Mairon and Melkor (separate) accidentally killing their s/o, bonus if they are human and they are just gone for eternity.

I just need some angst to function

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ mairon, melkor ( sep. ) ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. accidents happen, unfortunately, this is not something that the dark lords can ever fix ( death of reader ៸៸ blood mention ៸៸ war mention ៸៸ descriptions of death )

· ⊰ note. oh this was absolutely heart-clenching to write but I loved every second of it. hope you enjoy!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱ 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏.

ʚ He never thought that his efforts to finish what his master, the former dark lord, had started would cost him his very heart. Perhaps he would have rathered that. His heart being ripped from his chest rather than the sight of your pupils dissipating and your eyes dulling, the scream that wrenched from your lungs and the way your body collapsed to the stone floor 

ʚ Mairon was well aware that the power required to form the one ring would be immense and he was willing to sacrifice everything to ensure its creation. What he didn’t know was the one ring would not only drain him of his power — but yours as well. And unfortunately, you were not as powerful of a maia as he was. 

ʚ Whilst he forged the final touches and encrypted those cursed phrases along its underside, he ignored your little peeps and soft calls of his name. When you told him that you had an easy feeling. In fact, he went as far as to tell you that you were simply overreacting 

ʚ But it was only when he finally uttered the spell that would pour his power out into the ring that he realised the horrifying truth — your strength, the little power that remained within you would be snatched up as well. Despite his weakened state and trembling knees he tries to push himself to you, only just managing to get his arms around you when your legs had given out 

ʚ Mairon was frantic, clinging to your quickly disappearing warmth as he watched the life drain from your eyes. He was desperate, muttering a horrified ‘no’ over and over again as he watched your life be taken by that damned ring. Even when you stared up at him with such soulless eyes, he could not bring himself to accept what he had done 

ʚ “Y/N, no, please — please.’’ 

ʚ Had he truly lost you too? The last being that he had any sort of connection to? The last person who he felt anything for?

ʚ Mairon could do nothing but hunch over your form that day with a harrowing cry that tore through each and every crevice of Orodruin. He cradled you in his arms for hours, lips against your hair and promising that he would ensure your death was not in vain. Perhaps that’s what further drove him to accomplish his goal

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ·⊰ ꒰❀꒱𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓.

ʚ It was a fit of rage. One he couldn’t quite overcome. But when he finally pulled himself from the storm of rage that clouded his eyes and he now witnessed a familiar crimson on his palms — his claws. Not to mention the look of utter horror on your face before you fell into him, a hole torn through your clothing just as one had been ripped through your very chest. He knew that there was no going back 

ʚ Melkor always considered himself to be slow to anger. While he does seem to have quite the temper, the majority of the time it is quite the act. He pretends to exude anger so that he frightens those before him. But to genuinely drive the dark lord to anger is a fool’s ploy. Nor has he ever genuinely been angry at you. Perhaps irritated or possessive, but never rageful towards you. And even the incident of your death was not brought on due to the anger he held for you

ʚ It was during the war of wrath, towards the end of it. Melkor was well aware that his army outside the iron barriers of Angband was quickly depleting, that his defeat was nigh. What wasn’t helping his already gruelling mood was your worry. Of course, you were anxious. Should the Valinor’s Host succeed you knew that your lover would be dragged off and flung into the void. There would be no more trials, no more appeals, he would be gone forever. Which is the very reason you attempted to coax him into admitting defeat, in hopes that the valar would take mercy on him should he show remorse for his actions 

ʚ It seems that it was all it took for him to lose it and before you knew it a cry tore from your throat, just as his clawed hand tore through your chest and impaled your heart. You looked up to see the storm in his eyes and the look of hatred on his face. You couldn’t even process what it was that he shouted at you, only that you would die here. With not so much as a gentle embrace but rather a look of utter hostility

ʚ When Melkor eventually came to, he foolishly ripped his hand back out in shock — causing blood to gush from your wound further as you fell forward onto him. He was in shock, to say the least, as he held you. The music stopped, the dissonant tune that was associated with his presence. Everything went silent, deafening. He could say no words. He could shed no tears. Instead, he merely felt your warmth fade and listen to the beat of your wounded heart come to a standstill 

ʚ When the host tore through Angband, all they found was Melkor on his throne. Without his crown, without the prideful stature, he wore like a medal. All they found was a broken vala clinging onto the lifeless body of his beloved.

·⊰ masterlist.

·⊰ buy me a coffee?

·⊰ get tagged for my writing. @kiatheinsomniac @augustwithquills @blueberryrock @m-shade @flowerchildishere @bugnug @algae-rave @heraluthor @pinkslashersimp @the-girl-king @qwerty-19923 @momoewn @tinkywinky27 @weird-addiction @hidden-lord-of-arda @nyarna @yonjisu @aeonianarchives @cilil @all-things-fandomstuck @natchayaphorn

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ please consider liking, reblogging and / or commenting if you enjoy my work! all feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

[triplehmunson]

𝔓𝔒𝔙: Enemies to lovers with Stefan Salvatore (fem! Reader) ‼️warning⚠️: little smut! Mention of erotic things, cute very cute! there is no age difference, You're of age! Stefan is a cute and a little bit perv future boyfriend! Fem! Reader 🥰✨🫢 enemies to lovers!

You:

You meet Stefan thanks Elena when you went to see her on the way out of the university.

You don't like Stefan at all, you feel like he's the typical Fuck boy that exists anywhere.

When you went to a game to see Elena and Caroline who were the cheerleaders of the team where Stefan was the captain, by "accident" Stefan hit you with the ball and instead of apologizing he laughed with his friends and made you look ridiculous.

Since that horrible day you hate him with all your being and even wish that something bad would happen to him, you know, Karma!

One night when you left the house to go shopping you discovered that Stefan was a vampire, you were shocked because you didn't believe they still existed.

You had a problem, is that you You hated vampires since they killed the love of your life, you swore that the night you were going to transform into a wolf you were going to kill those who took your boyfriend's life.

You had some strange dreams where Stefan was on top of you, he was biting you but you didn't scream for help, rather you moaned his name and asked for more, that made you wake up panting and sweating.

Every time you went to see Elena to help her with her relationship with Damon, who was your best friend, you always saw her with that "cocky idiot" as you had nicknamed Stefan.

When you tried to talk to her, he always interrupted you saying: "Come on, baby, you can't wait your turn to talk to Elena, oh I know! You're going to tell her that you touch yourself thinking about me" and you turn red from shame and anger… How dare he say something like that!

Unfortunately for you, you found out at a dinner with your friends, which included Damon, Elena, Caroline and her boyfriend Klaus Mikaelson, because Stefan, that "big idiot" was Damon's brother, your jaw literally fell when you saw that the boy who most you hated was the brother of one of your best friends, this couldn't be real!

Who knew that the hatred you felt for Stefan was slowly turning into love, since whenever you saw him with other girls you would get extremely jealous.

Every time Stefan bothered you or looked at you, the colors rose to your face, at first you didn't know why but you loved having his attention, it made you feel special.

Although you didn't admit it in front of him or your friends, you loved it when he called you names like: "baby" "princess" "annoying little thing" "sexy immature" "sweetie" "doll"

Y/n: Since I hate Stefan I want to hit him but at the same time I want to sleep in his arms while his pretty eyes look at me and his pretty lips kiss me.

You love his back madly since it is wide, it looks soft and how you want to scratch him when it becomes possible for him to make you his.

Stefan:

Stefan already knew you for a long time thanks to his brother.

You always caught his attention especially since you were short in his eyes, you were a cutie.

"He said or pretended" to hate you so as not to attract the attention of others and be described as weak, especially his friends, you know, he has to preserve his "popularity".

He loved when you got angry because you made a pout that made him want to eat you with kisses.

He once heard a rumor that you were in a relationship with Elijah Mikaelson, that made him extremely jealous, his nature as the "ripper" came to light every time he thought about you with another man other than him.

Despite his "angelic face" Stefan was very possessive of his "angel" that is, you.

His jealousy was not so extreme or possessive to the extreme, nor did he want to see himself as a monster, he wanted to be your protector, your safe place, the love of your life.

He did know that you were a wolf thanks to a conversation he had with Klaus since he knew the "boss" of your pack.

He was not ashamed to admit that he had erotic dreams about you, whenever he woke up sweating and panting he wished you were there to help him with his "problems."

One day at the gym where you went with Caroline (Stefan also goes to that gym) he saw that you were going to do yoga and when he saw you in those yoga pants he got hard and horny and he held on until he could not take you right then and there or take you away. to the bathroom to make you his until you're tired.

He loved madly, your laugh was like music to his ears and your smile was like a drug for him, it was very addictive.

He plans to marry you and have a big family by your side.

The only person who can stop the actions of the "ripper" is you, since you are his angel, the love of his life.

Stefan loves your neck madly. In his eyes it looks so soft and flexible. Many times he has fantasized about fitting his fangs and feeding on you while he imagines that you moan his name asking for more.

Stefan: You're going to see my angel, very soon you're going to be mine, you're going to be in my arms and I'm going to kiss you and hug you and I'm never going to let you go... I'm going to protect you with my life if necessary.

[chilpilled]

ive been bingeing survivor lately because the current season is really good (q sweep) and ngl i cant stop thinking about dunmeshi survivor. laios obvious challenge beast who keeps finding idols, not even on purpose he just likes exploring the island and stumbles upon them on accident. the kind of player who’s dogshit strategically and completely on the outs (doesnt even know theres any strategy happening) but becomes a threat due to constantly winning immunities and finding idols and being endearing so people go from thinking hes easy to take out later to desperate to get rid of him. probably a very polarizing figure for viewers, i think casual fans love him for being a nice and earnest quirky character while superfans hate him for his lack of strategic prowess. i dont see him winning but he probably gets at least a few votes if he makes it to final 3 and he gets asked back for sure because jeff loves his quirky characters.

chilchuck might be a sleeper individual immunity challenge beast (a lot of challenges are dependent on carrying your bodyweight or dexterity) and is probably also narrator of the season. every time a conversation happens it cuts to a chilchuck confessional where hes sitting on a log being like „i hate these people i want to drown myself in the ocean. i want to poison the rice.“ not quite a goat but hes probably too abrasive to win many jury votes, tho it depends on who hes sitting next to. i dont think he wins but he probably becomes a fan favorite due to his bluntness and gets asked to come back in a later season but refuses.

kabru is doing 4d chess and running laps around everybody both socially and strategically and would probably get taken to final 3 where he sweeps the jury if he didnt get weirdly focused on laios and end up alienating his alliances. kabru strong early beginning, obvious winner edit being able to run the game while keeping his threat level low midgame, to meltdown over laios literally just running around the island pretending to be a dog, and getting voted out shortly before final tribal. becomes an iconic figure comparable to the likes of angelina and is definitely asked back, but also for sure on a season where laios comes back too.

senshi has no strategy but everyone loves him for being the provider and also just a genuinely great guy. is probably making his tribe elaborate meals every day and comforting them after challenge losses. everyone loves senshi but unfortunately that makes him too big of a threat so he gets taken out during midgame but everyone is really upset about doing it, they just know they have no chance against him in final 3. it doesnt matter if senshi is left out of every vote, its senshi so the jury would vote for him anyways. after the votes are read he probably slaps his knee and goes „aww you got me good guys well played!“ without a hint of anger and everybody knows it was the right choice to vote him but they still feel awful. probably hugs everyone and gives them some words of encouragement before leaving. huge fan favorite and gets asked back on multiple seasons but is unfortunately always voted off rather early because hes simply too big of a threat. a messianic figure.

marcille probably hates the island and is only there because falin is. probably good strategically but lets be honest here she would suffer every single day shes on that island. kept in the game through sheer determination to make the merge and see falin again, but is probably voted out not long after, because her and falin are dangerous together and couples always get broken up. fierce falin advocate on ponderosa. falins strongest soldier.

falin is probably just a very strong social player. shes not the most strategic, but is probably brought into votes just due to how likeable she is. senshi also serves as a shield for her threat level, so i can see her making final 3 without having a vote cast against her. probably sweeps the jury, partly because marcille has been campaigning for her on ponderosa, partly because shes just genuinely likeable and people want her to have the money, partly because i cant think of any person potentially sitting next to her that people would rather vote for. just strategic enough that fans dont really have a problem with her win, and nowadays people are more open to social gameplay, plus shes beautiful and a great person so yeah. falin wins because everybody loves her and everybody loves her for winning. marcilles work is done.

itutsumi isnt part of the game shes just kinda hanging out on the island. nobody knows why or what shes doing there but shes laying in the sun and napping. there are probably a few votes for her at the final tribal so there needs to be a revote. you can NOT vote for izutsumi. stop booing

[ro-is-struggling]

You Ruined Me || Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: on a cold rainy night Y/N accidentally ends up standing in front of her ex-boyfriend's house and remembers with sadness the last time she walked through those doors.

Warnings: fem reader, song fic, emotional infidelity (Matt is still in love with Elektra), breakup, unrequired love (the reader is still in love with Matt, but he has feelings for Elektra). It's pure sadness with no happy ending

English is not my first language

Word count: 3800

Notes: The story is based on the song You Ruined Me by JC Chasez. I recommend you to listen to it to understand the vibe of the story (you won't regret it because his voice is beautiful). Also there might be a part 2 on the works where Bucky gets involved👀👀👀 EDIT: HERE'S PART 2

I could be the first to let you know

That nothing means anything

Now I'm standing here outside your door

In the pouring rain

And I can't believe nothing's supposed to get to me

Now I'm in this misery

You walked through the dark streets of Hell's Kitchen with no particular destination in mind. It was a cold and rainy night. Droplets of water fell from the sky onto your figure, drenching you from head to toe. The wind blowing through the trees crashed against your wet body, freezing your skin. The cold was piercing your bones, cutting through the layers of clothing as if they were nothing more than a thin piece of fabric. Yet you would rather be there, alone, wet and cold, than spend another second trapped in a restaurant you didn't like, accompanied by a man you didn't love. You needed to escape. You could no longer pretend to be interested in that guy, so you made up a silly excuse about an emergency and hurried to disappear behind the doors before he had a chance to ask you any questions about it.

You could have headed home, but the thought of being back so early was depressing. So instead you decided to walk around for a while, get some fresh air and clear your mind. You thought maybe that would help you mood. The rain had attacked you halfway, but you didn't care. Your mind was too caught up in the swirl of emotions inside you to worry about a little water. So you continued walking without a destination in mind.

You should have known that your feet would eventually lead you to the building where Matt lived. You had spent so much time there that you had the path burned into your muscle memory. You could find your way there even if you were blindfolded. There was something about that place that drew you in, a connection so strong it was impossible to ignore.

When you looked up from the ground, you felt betrayed by your own body as you discovered where you were. Your eyes fell on the large doors of the building and your heart skipped a beat as you remembered the last time you had been there. It hadn't been long, barely about three months. When you walked through those doors that night you never imagined that you would end up walking out just a few minutes later with your heart shattered into pieces.

If you concentrated hard enough you could see the events of that night unfolding in front of you again. It was also a rainy day and you had forgotten your umbrella in the cab that took you to work that morning. The accident set off a chain of unfortunate events over the course of the day, and by the time your shift was over you were exhausted and in a very bad mood. That's why instead of going home you decided to stop by Matt's apartment. He always made you feel better when you were having a bad day, and that had been one of the worst in a long time. You never imagined that things would only get worse.

When you reached your destination, you used the keys Matt had given you to get into the building and then into his apartment. You walked down the dark entrance hallway in surprise at how quiet the place was. You dropped your keys on the coffee table as you wondered if your boyfriend was already roaming the streets of Hell's Kitchen in his red suit, looking for people who needed his help. But then you felt a noise coming from his room. You headed for the door, assuming Matt would be on the other side.... And he was, but he wasn't the only one there.

You didn't even get to touch the doorknob before the door suddenly opened, revealing a surprised and worried Matt. You didn't understand the reason for such an expression until your eyes fell on the figure behind him. On the bed, wrapped between the sheets and one of your boyfriend's shirts, rested Elektra Natchios.

Your eyes filled with tears as you comprehended the scene in front of you. Then, without a word, you turned and disappeared behind the door.

"Y/N, wait!" you heard Matt calling out to you, but you ignored him.

You quickened your pace, descending the stairs as fast as your blurred vision would allow. You could hear Matt behind you, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the halls. He was calling your name, asking you to listen to him, but you ignored him. You needed to get out of there. You needed to run away. You needed to get outside and breathe fresh air, or else you thought you would drown. The lump that had formed in your throat was getting bigger and bigger, making it difficult for you to breathe.

You had your right hand on the door handle when Matt finally caught up to you, grabbing your left arm to keep you from escaping.

"Y/N, wait!" he repeated, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. "Can we talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about" you replied, turning your back to him. You couldn't look him in the face, it hurt too much. "Let me go!"

"It's not what it looks like, Elektra got hurt and..."

"Enough! I can't do this anymore" you exclaimed, your voice broken by the tears you were struggling to hold back. "I can't keep pretending that I don't notice that you still have feelings for her" you added, finally turning to look at him.

"I don't, I-I..."

"Stop lying! I'm not stupid, Matt. I see it in your face every day. And I'm tired. I don't deserve this."

"I love you," he said in a broken voice, not knowing what else to do to convince you to stay.

"I know," you nodded with a sad smile. "But you have feelings for her too. And I can't go on like this, sharing you with her, afraid of losing you every day."

"Please..." he insisted, though he didn't know how to finish the sentence.

"Goodbye, Matt."

And with that, you broke free of his grip and disappeared into the darkness of the night.

I can't be with anyone since I felt our worlds collide

It's like I almost died

The way you make me feel

I'm changing, got me breaking down inside

Baby can't you see, you ruined me

For life 

You haven't seen Matt again after that. You spent the next few weeks sad and depressed, crying yourself to sleep at night and waking up with a headache and a swollen face in the mornings. A routine that continued until one day you decided you were tired of feeling sorry for yourself. So you focused all your energy on getting your life back on track, forgetting Matt and starting over. 

For some reason, at the time it seemed like a simple task. It was just a matter of getting out and meeting new people. There were plenty of fish in the sea, some of them much better than Matt, you just had to take the time to find them. 

Oh if only you knew how wrong you were!

Over the past few months you had met several men, gone on countless dates, and still you couldn't get Matt out of your mind. Even when things were going well, when the guy was nice and the date interesting, you couldn't quiet the little voice in the back of your head that told you none of it was worth it. You fought it, raising the pitch of your voice as you spoke to drown it out in the noise, asking endless questions to your date to distract yourself with his answers. Nothing was working. The few men who didn't flee at your strange change in behavior would end up disappointed to discover that the evening would lead to nothing more than a quick, cold goodbye kiss. Sometimes not even that. 

For some reason, no man compared to Matt. None could awaken butterflies in your stomach with just a smile or a tingle in your body with a simple brush of hands. None could make your legs tremble at the sound of his voice or start a fire inside you with a kiss. They were, for the most part, nice men, but you didn't feel a special connection with any of them. Not like you did with Matt. 

You didn't feel the urge to have them around all the time, to know how their day had been and listen to every story, every word, as if it was the most interesting thing you had ever heard. You didn't wonder what it would feel like to wake up next to either of them in the mornings, nor were you dying to feel your bodies brush against each other. You didn't feel safe in their arms, at least not the way you felt in Matt's arms. 

That had nothing to do with his abilities or the fact that you knew he was Daredevil. The security Matt provided you was related to the connection you shared. You felt comfortable and safe with him because you had found your home in his arms. And that was something you couldn't change. Something you weren't going to find in someone else. 

You felt pathetic. You really were the biggest idiot in the whole universe. Matt had done nothing but hurt you, more painfully and deeply than any of your other ex-boyfriends, and yet you couldn't get him out of your mind. Your heart was still beating for him despite all the suffering he had put you through. It was ridiculous, but you couldn't deny how you felt. Matt Murdock was the only man for you even though you weren't the only woman for him. And that was devastating. 

I will be the last to let you down

All your fears and doubts are hovering above you like a cloud

And the water's rising

Now I can't breathe, nothing's how it's supposed to be

How did you do this to me

Locked inside your heart shaped box

It hurted you to have worked so hard for your relationship only to lose it all to a woman who did nothing but bring him trouble and heartache. You knew all too well the details of the relationship Matt and Elektra had had in the past. You had seen him running after her all over campus like a lost dog. You had to watch, along with Foggy, as he threw away his studies and all the effort it had taken him to get to where he was for her. And when eventually their relationship crashed and erupted into flames, you had been by his side to pick up the pieces of his heart from the ground and help him put it back together. A task that had turned out to be far from simple.

Years later, Matt remembered it as a mistake from his past. One of those that you make when you're young and inexperienced, one that marks a clear lesson for the future. And you believed him. You could still see traces of pain in his expression when Elektra's name was mentioned in conversation. He didn't like to talk about her, even years after their relationship had ended. And as much as you found it a bit odd, you always thought it was simply because it had been a very difficult time in his life. You had never had reason to suspect that maybe he wasn't as over her as he claimed, until she reappeared in his life.

It all started with subtle changes. You began to notice a certain awkwardness and tension in Matt, an attitude that had no apparent reason. It wasn't until he confessed to you that Elektra was back that you understood what was happening to him. Matt was having trouble understanding what he was feeling, doubt written into his expression at all times. You could read the struggle inside him every time you looked up at his face. 

In one corner of the fighting ring was the rational voice in his brain, telling him that nothing good could come from Elektra. In the opposite corner, the passionate, impulsive voice of his heart assured him that things would be different this time. Matt liked to pretend his brain won the fight by knock-out, but you both knew that was a lie. It was a very tight score. But eventually his heart would end up winning. 

Though of course that wasn't what he would tell you when you asked him about Elektra, worried about the effects her presence might have on your relationship.

"I don't want to work with her," he had assured you the night you had finally worked up the courage to voice you fears as you healed the wounds he had gotten on the street. "Believe me, it's the last thing I want."

"Then why are you doing it?" you insisted as you disinfected a small cut.

"Because she doesn't want to leave," he replied, letting out a sigh. "And because I think she's right. I think it's a case I can't handle on my own."

"Matt..." you started to say, but he interrupted you by grabbing your hands and pulling you a little closer towards his body.

"The Yakuza are planning something big and I don't think I can stop them by myself. That's all. Elektra is here just to help me with this problem and that's it. She'll leave as soon as we get it sorted out. We already talked about it." Matt assured you in a sweet, soft voice that almost made you forget all your problems. Almost.

"You promise?" You felt stupid asking such a thing of him, but Elektra's presence frightened you. She alone had thrown your world off balance in an instant. You needed reassure. You needed to know you weren't losing the man you loved.

"I promise," he told you with a smile before giving you a short kiss on the lips. "You have to believe me when I tell you that Elektra is nothing but a bad memory. You are the only woman I love."

You would love to be able to believe him, but deep down you knew that wasn't true. You didn't need to be able to hear his heartbeat to know he was lying. You just had to look at his face and see the doubt in his expression. That grimace that remained stamped on his face from the moment Elektra had come back into his life. You were losing him with every passing minute and there was nothing you could do about it but smile and pretend not to notice.

So that's what you did. You kept her mouth shut and smiled at him, giving his hand a squeeze to end the conversation. You kept the thousand doubts and insecurities you had to yourself in the hopes that things would go back to normal as soon as Elektra left. It was pathetic, but there was nothing else you could do. Matt owned your heart. He held it in his hands, squeezing it between his fingers with increasing strength and you couldn't take it away from him even i you wanted to.

I don't wanna be in love

I don't wanna feel this way

All I wanna do is leave

But all I can do is stay

Nights and days go by and I can't wait to touch your face again

A single tear escaped your left eye, rolling down your cheek and getting lost in the thousands of raindrops that adorned your face. There was nothing you wanted more than to be able to forget about Matt. You wanted to stop feeling the horrible emptiness inside you, a feeling that haunted you since the night it had all ended. You needed to get as far away from him as possible, at least until your heart stopped breaking into a thousand pieces at the mere mention of his name. You wanted to stop loving him. 

Yet there you were again. Standing in front of his door, fighting the urge to go up to his apartment to talk and make things right between them. Crying in the rain, your mind clouded by the memories the familiar building had awakened. 

You had initially thought that time would help you forget. You assumed that moving on with your life would become an easier task as the days passed. You thought the first few weeks would be the hardest, but if you managed to get through those dark days then you would see the light at the end of the tunnel. Only now you realized how wrong you had been. Months had passed and your heart ached with the same intensity as the first day. 

Ever since your relationship with Matt had ended, you weren't able to go a single night without thinking about him. You longed to feel the warmth of his body enveloping you when you slept, making you feel comfortable and safe, or bump against his chest as you stretched in bed. You missed opening your eyes in the morning and finding his calm expression as he slept, the cuts and wounds from the night before contrasting with the angelic look of his face. You missed hearing him groan with sleep at the sound of the alarm or hearing him pronounce your name followed by 'good morning' in the typical husky voice he had in the mornings. 

You even missed the fear and worry you felt every time you saw him disappear into the dark of night with his Daredevil costume on. At least when you were together you knew what was going on. You always waited up for him with the first aid kit, ready to treat his wounds. And while you worked, he would tell you what he had done as he roamed the dangerous streets of Hell's Kitchen.

You missed him like you had never missed anyone before. And that was because you loved him like you had never loved anyone before. You felt lonely without his company even though you were surrounded by people. The emptiness in your chest intensified every time you returned from work to your dark, deserted apartment. Your days were gray and monotonous. Your broken heart mourned Matt's absence almost as much as his lies and deceit. He was the cause of all your pain, but he was also the cure. 

I could be the first to let you know

That I can't be with anyone since I felt our worlds collide

It's like I almost died

The way you make me feel

I'm changing, got me breaking down inside

Baby, can't you see, you ruined me

Matt was the love of your life. There was no other way to explain how you felt about him. He was the love of your life and you would never forget him, even if you managed to turn the page and move on with your life alone. He would always be present in your mind. He would always have a special place in your heart. Even if you moved away from Hell's Kitchen and lived your whole life miles away, you were sure Matt would continue to hold the key to your heart. 

Suddenly you realized it was pointless to run away from what you felt. There was no place in the world where you could hide from Matt. He was burned into the depths of your soul. Then it occurred to you that maybe it was worth taking a chance on him one more time. Maybe fate had a happy ending planned for you after all. Maybe a future together was still possible. 

You let out a sigh of defeat, working up the courage to knock on Matt's door after you had sworn you wouldn't come back. You should feel ashamed of your weakness and lack of determination, but at this point you were incapable of experiencing such feelings. You had made the mistake of listening to your masochistic heart, believing the illusions it was clinging to in order to keep beating, and there was no turning back now. 

You were about to walk up the front steps to reach the door, when the sound of a car caught your attention. As you turned around you discovered that there was a luxury car parked in front of you in the street. You watched as the door of the vehicle opened and out stepped Matt and Elektra, both wearing fancy dress attire. 

Suddenly the air grew heavier. The tension and the lump that had formed in your throat made it difficult for you to breathe. Time seemed to freeze as you stood there, petrified in place. You could do nothing but stare at the couple in front of you. You noticed that the red lipstick Elektra was wearing was not only smeared, but had left marks on Matt's lips and neck. 

You felt the world around you crumble at your feet, just as it had that horrible night months before. You fragile heart broke into a thousand pieces once more as you saw that the hopes that held it together and kept it beating were nothing more than a delusion. You felt like a fool for thinking even for a second that your story could ever have a happy ending.

Matt, who was surprised by your presence, took a few steps forward to approach you. He opened his mouth to call out to you, but your name died in his throat because before he could utter it you turned and continued on your way. 

You walked away from there, calmly pacing under the rain, hiding in your cool appearance the urge you had to run off and not stop until you were miles away. Pretending that you had happened to pass by there purely by chance and not because you missed him more than anyone else in the world. 

Maybe if you continued to lie you would eventually believe your own bullshit. Maybe then you would manage to forget Matt Murdock once and for all.

I don't wanna be un love

I don't wanna feel this way

All I wanna do is leave

You ruined me for life

[thunderstroked]

Wet Cat Energy || Mona & Felix

TIMING: recent-ish. LOCATION: the docks in harborside. PARTIES: @recoveringdreamer & @thunderstroked SUMMARY: felix saves mona again. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

Since the accident, Mona had become susceptible to sleepwalking. Or rather, forced into it. She wasn’t sure which it was, but she knew she was waking up in strange places. Sometimes she woke up before she got very far, but other times, she’d wake just before disaster struck. She would shift into fox form and sprint away from any trouble that arose, but not before catching sight of her humanoid figure with a few fox-like details. Tonight was so different. Tufts of fur surrounding that of fox ears poked through the top of her head as she wandered aimlessly down the street. To the average night-enjoyer, they’d see a furry. It was unfortunate, to say the least. She hated the implication that she dressed like this because she wanted to, instead of it just being a part of her. 

While asleep, however, there was no maneuvering those details around to fit the idea of who she wanted to be. She’d managed to walk from the apartment she was staying in on Amity Road, just above the photography studio, all the way to the docks nestled in Harborside. Bare feet scratched and bleeding due to the nature of her journey, she only awoke as soon as she was submerged in the water. Floundering, Mona thrashed about, desperate to keep her head above water. She tried to grasp anything she could– the net that was hanging off of the dock fell through her fingers like silk, sinking to the bottom. Her foot caught through one of the holes and the weighted anchors off of the net caused her to sink down with it. She gulped in a breath of air before sinking down with it, bending forward to try and release herself. She’d been so preoccupied with the idea of drowning and an untimely death that she hadn’t noticed the explosion of bubbles next to her– another body. 

—

They used to go on walks at night. Back when they’d lived in the woods with their family, when the house felt like a prison and every venture out into the world was a daring jailbreak, they’d wander around after their father was asleep and pretend they were brave enough to go further than a few yards away from the cabin. They’d walked circles around it, the ground bearing the results of their repetitive treks in small ruts and worn grass. For years, Felix had both feared and anticipated their father bringing it up, but he never had. Acts of rebellion that seemed large to Felix tended to feel small to the people he was rebelling against. Funny how that had remained the same, even now.

The walks stayed, too. Quiet strolls around town late at night, when the rest of the world slept. They used to stick to Worm Row and Downtown, close to either their apartment or their work, but the goo situation had put something of a wrench in that routine. They were terrified of seeing Teagan in Worm Row, sick at the thought of it, and walking around their own neighborhood didn’t ease their restless mind the way it normally might have. So tonight, they’d ventured further. Harborside, with the docks their father had worked on a thousand years ago. Felix hunched into themself as they walked, mind wandering. They didn’t realize they weren’t alone until they heard it — the splash of someone hitting the water. Strange time to swim, they thought, but maybe it was a selkie or a nymph.

Or… maybe not. The splash was swiftly followed by the desperate sounds of someone trying to keep their head above water, and Felix knew something was wrong. The jaguar shifted, seeming to feel the fear in the air despite the fact that it didn’t belong to Felix. Or maybe some of it did — after all, Felix didn’t want to see someone drown. So… they figured they’d have to stop it. There was no one else around, and Felix was a strong swimmer despite not really enjoying the activity. So the balam took off towards the water, diving off the dock and slipping their hands beneath someone’s arms, tugging them towards the surface as hard and as fast as he could manage.

—

In the midst of her panic, Mona’s features split between human and fox, ears and tail sprouting, then disappearing. Perhaps deep down the fox was trying to save her, but that was her. It wasn’t some separate entity, and she knew that. She struggled against the burn in her chest, eyes doing their best to adjust to the darkness of the water. She wasn’t sure where she was, or if she was under the dock now, but she was still sinking. 

The person next to her, however, was pulling her upward. Mona’s head broke the water and she gasped in full breaths of air, chest heaving. She dug her fingers into the person’s arm, twisting herself away, kicking her feet as hard as she could until she felt the net fall away from her. Somebody would need to get it, she thought. Somebody would need to dispose of it, to ruin it like it tried to ruin her. She had every mind to dive back down and yank it out, to burn it to bits. 

She tried to focus, though– tried to focus on the person pulling her towards shore. Mona’s eyes had a better time adjusting out of the water and she immediately recognized them. “This is the second time you’ve saved me.” She felt a little bitter about it because that meant she’d surely need to repay them somehow. How she’d equate saving her life to something she could do for them, she wasn’t sure. They were on shore now and she broke away from his hold, rolling to the side as she coughed out some of the water that’d managed to get into her lungs. “Fucking fuck, why the fuck–” She shook her head, water in her ears. Everything felt muted. She ran a hand through her hair, feeling the tufts of fur from her ears. “Great, great.” With a sigh, she rubbed her hands down her face and looked over at Felix. “Do cats even like water? Why are you not really upset and screaming right now?” 

—

As they broke the surface, skin and clothes turning to fur and then back again beneath their grip, Felix realized that they recognized the person in their arms. They kicked their feet to keep them both afloat, letting her hold on to them as she freed herself from the net in a way that felt all too familiar. Mona had a bad track record with these, didn’t she? There might have been something almost funny about the similarity of the situation to the one that had introduced them to one another in the first place if not for the concern swirling in Felix’s chest.

Gentle as they could manage while still working quickly, Felix began tugging Mona towards the shoreline. They didn’t think she’d recognized them yet; she was still coughing and sputtering in a way that was concerning, and Felix tried to remember what they knew about secondary drowning. Should they ask to go home with her, to keep an eye on her? Would she be receptive to it? Would she be offended? The questions moved around in his mind, uncertainty tinting every thought.

Finally, they were back on shore, and Mona seemed to recognize them. Felix offered her a small smile and a wave, studying her with some concern. “Don’t worry about it,” he said quickly, not wanting her to feel as if she owed him something. “I’m glad I was here. Uh, both times.” It felt good to help someone. It was a feeling they’d like to chase more often, though they weren’t really sure how. “Are you okay?” At her question, they let out a little laugh. “I don’t — I mean, I don’t love water, but I’m a good swimmer. Um, jaguars are actually — they can — we can hold our breath for a really long time. But I don’t like the, uh, the feeling of being wet. I don’t know if that’s a cat thing or a Felix thing, though. Are you okay?” They’d asked that already, hadn’t they? Ah, well. No harm in making sure.

—

Mona felt defeated. How many more times would this happen? How many more times would she unknowingly walk into trouble? This town had been nothing but cruel to her so far, save a few of the faces she managed to befriend. Instead of focusing on the reality of her situation, Mona tried to focus on her breathing. She sat straight up, hand to her chest as she wheezed. She could still feel some of the water in her lungs. Unfortunate. “I’m– yes, I’m alright.” She had to be, she thought. There wasn’t really another way for her to be. If she weren’t alright, then what would she become? It was a silly thing to think, that her worth was tied up in the idea that she could be something normal, but it had come to that, especially these days. 

As Felix explained that they were a good swimmer despite not really enjoying the water, she nodded. Somehow that made sense. Maybe it was a jaguar thing. Mona let out a bitter laugh of her own and pointed at the shore they’d just come from. “Well, it was a good thing you were here, I guess. Whether or not you like the water.” She paused momentarily, the forbidden word uprooting from the back of her throat as she spat it out hastily. “Thank you.” She’d been told not to throw it around freely by fae friends from her past, but she knew that Felix wouldn’t be able to do anything with her words. “I bet it’s both,” Mona said as she started to focus on the water that lapped against the shore. She wouldn’t go swimming again anytime soon, or, at least she would try not to. Her gaze snapped back up to meet Felix’s and she nodded. “A little waterlogged– got ears, but fine.” She felt her ears again and frowned. “If you laugh, I’ll kill you.” Not really, but there was a warning all the same. Another wheezy breath left her as she pushed herself up onto her feet. At least her tails were gone. “What were you doing out here?” 

—

“Are you sure? I, um, I know you probably can’t exactly go to a doctor, but I have a friend who’s a nurse. Maybe he could…” They let the end of the sentence hang, uncertainty clear in both their tone and their expression. It was… difficult, as a shifter. Hospitals weren’t exactly a tool you could utilize when any scans might show things you didn’t want seen. Harder still for Felix, whose jaguar tended to rise to the surface when they were nervous in a way that would make a hospital visit unpleasant for everyone involved. But Mona had nearly drowned, and there were consequences that came with that. Felix wasn’t sure they were comfortable just… leaving her alone, after. 

They nodded as she spoke again, silently agreeing with her statement. They were glad they’d been here; what might have happened if they weren’t? The thought of Mona, of anyone, drowning alone just off the dock was enough to make their stomach turn. “You don’t have to thank me,” they said quickly. “I mean, I’m glad I could help, you know? I’m glad I was here.” And it wasn’t like helping her hurt them. Both times they’d stepped in to free her from her predicaments, they’d done so with no consequence to themself at all. When helping cost you nothing, there was no reason not to do it. Even when it did come at a price, it was better to do it than to not. Felix had always felt that way, but they felt it more now. Now that they had so much to atone for. “It could be both,” they agreed, watching as she took stock of herself in her half-shifted state. “I won’t laugh,” they promised. They’d never been a Scout, but they held their hand up in what they thought was the ‘Scout’s honor’ sign, anyway, because maybe it meant something. “I’ve been there, actually.” More than once. Felix’s shifting used to be second nature, but since the Pit had begun sewing a sense of ‘disagreement’ between himself and his jaguar… that was a little less true. “Oh, I was just walking. I like to walk around at night, sometimes. To clear my head, you know? And there’s no goo over here.”

—

Mona waved away his concern. “I’m fine. Seriously.” Because she had to be. The idea of going to a hospital for this was laughable. She’d get over this bout of… well, whatever it was, in no time. The water would drain itself either out of her ears or nose and she would be good to go! “Might need that later, though. The phone a friend— or nurse, I guess. No, you said a friend.” She thought for a moment before sighing. “But really, this is fine— I’m fine.” This wouldn’t be the last time she’d wander into the street finding trouble, and she knew it. Maybe she’d need to invest in some better locks, or maybe a trap that would keep her inside of the apartment. She should look into that, she decided. 

“Mhmm. Well, I’m thanking you anyway. Not like you can do much with it.” She was glad she wasn’t wearing shoes. The last thing she would want to have to deal with right now is wet socks. She wiggled her toes against the pavement and started to wring out the hem of her shirt, swiping her hands down her stomach to get some of the excess water off. Felix told her he wouldn’t laugh and he did something with his hands that she didn’t recognize. “What is that— what are you doing?” Mona tried to recreate it, lifting her hand into the space between them, twisting her fingers as they’d done so. She wasn’t sure what it meant, so she dropped her hand, continuing to try and get the water out of her clothes. “The goo really is a pain in the ass isn’t it?” Mona wasn’t sure where Felix lived, but she figured it wasn’t anywhere near here. “Well, I’d apologize I interrupted your walk, but I’m actually glad I did, because I might be dead if I didn’t.” Mona glanced over her shoulder towards the water. “We should report the net shouldn’t we?” 

—

“Okay. If you’re sure.” They wouldn’t force anyone to seek treatment who didn’t want it. Agency, they thought, was important in cases like this. If Mona said she was fine, Felix had no option but to trust her, to believe that she knew what she was saying. They offered her a small smile and a nod. “I can pass along his info to you. He knows about… this stuff, so you can be honest with him. And he’s trustworthy.” They wouldn’t out Zane as not human, not without his consent, but telling Mona that he, at the very least, was aware of the supernatural would hopefully quell any doubts she might have about seeing him if needed. It was safer to have someone to turn to, even if she wouldn’t turn to him tonight.

They let out a little laugh, nodding their head. “That’s true. I can’t do anything with it. I wouldn’t if I could, though.” After their own experience with promise binds, Felix couldn’t even fathom trapping someone else in one. The thought alone made them feel a little sick, nausea tugging at their gut. Or… maybe that was just the seawater they’d swallowed pulling her out of the water. Eugh. Saltwater was gross. Looking to their hands, they shrugged sheepishly. “It’s, uh… Scout’s Honor. I think? I was never actually a Scout, so I don’t know. But it just means I promise.” Another dangerous word that neither of them could do anything with. Another thing Felix probably would have said, even if she could. This was a promise they meant. “Yeah. The goo is… bad.” They tried not to think about Teagan and just how bad the goo could be. “I’m glad I was here. A walk’s just a walk. I can take another any time. I’m glad I was able to help you.” He followed her gaze back to the dock, nodding his head. “Yeah,” they agreed. “Someone could get really hurt.”

—

It might be for the better, she decided, to take Felix’s friend’s number. What would be the harm? If he was trustworthy, and Mona believed Felix that this person was, then if she did need help later down the road, either for herself or somebody else, then it’d be good to have more people in her corner, so to speak. “Okay, yeah. That’s fine.” She hoped she wouldn’t need the nurse’s assistance, mostly because the idea of a gumiho going into a hospital was ridiculous. Back in Busan, they had their own separate doctor who was also a gumiho. She wasn’t sure if she’d find that kind of person here, though. The thought made her a little sad. There were a lot of things she left behind by leaving home– comfort in identity being one of them. But Felix, another shifter, was beside her and telling her that he knew somebody who could help if needed, and she had to trust that they had her best interests at heart, especially seeing as he had saved her twice already. 

“I think I would.” She waved away her own words, literally swiping a hand through the air, “but only for the people who deserved it.” There were a lot of those in this world. What better way to pin down somebody who was terrible than with a thank you? Mona sighed, “but not to regular people. I’m talking billionaires, maybe.” Probably– no, most definitely. “Anyone in a high tax bracket, you know? Probably your president, too.” She scrunched her nose before wiping some of the water from her brow. As Felix explained that the hand signal had been something about scout’s honor, Mona stared at him blankly. “I don’t know what that is, but–” she made the finger movement again, “yeah, that, and thanks.” She jutted a finger through the air at him, “I would never hold you to that, by the way. You don’t deserve that.” Not that she could, anyway. If anything, by Felix saving her multiple times, he was holding her to it to a degree, even if he didn’t know it. Her devotion to return favors hadn’t dwindled over the years– it was, of course, why she was here in the first place. “We can call somebody later. I’d rather not let them see me–” Mona swiped a hand over her ears, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth again, “like this.” 

—

There was some relief in Mona agreeing to take Zane’s number, even if Felix was very aware that she may be doing so just to placate them. Whether she decided to use it or not, they’d still rather her have the option to contact a medical professional, rather her be able to if she needed it. It was difficult for people like them to get help in a world built for humans. Going to a hospital wasn’t an option for people like them, not when all the doctors were human. It was important to find some kind of an alternative, even if it wasn’t a perfect one. Felix smiled at Mona, offering her a short nod of acknowledgement. “I’ll text it to you,” he promised. 

Were there people who deserved to be bound to their word? Even with Mona’s amendments, Felix wasn’t sure. They thought of Teagan again, of the hunter she’d wanted so badly to kill, of the way she’d insisted that certain people deserved certain things. Felix wasn’t sure he believed it. They liked to imagine that everyone deserved kindness, no matter how they were born or how much money they had. Maybe it was a silly thing to think; they decided to keep it to themself, just in case. At the very least, Mona didn’t think Felix deserved such a thing. They wondered if she’d say the same if she knew about the Pit. It was hard to imagine anyone not thinking less of them for that. “Yeah, I don’t really get it, either. It’s just a thing people do.” He nodded, looking at Mona carefully. Felix wouldn’t want anyone seeing them partially shifted like this, either, especially not after Parker. “I get that,” they said. “Do you want to come back to my apartment? My roommate’s not home right now, and it might be good to… not be alone.” They didn’t know if they meant it would be good for her, or for them. Both, maybe.

—

“Okay, sure.” Mona wasn’t sure what she would have run into upon moving to Wicked’s Rest. She had anticipated selfish humans, but nothing like what she was experiencing. Maybe this was some kind of life lesson from the fury who had taken her leave after recruiting her for the photography studio, or maybe it was something else. She wasn’t really sure, and even though both situations with Felix so far had been… not the greatest, to say the least, she couldn’t say she wasn’t happy to have met them. It was an odd thing, being in the throes of something dangerous and coming out of it with some kind of bond. 

“A thing people do, but not us.” Mona smiled at them, a grateful smile. She tucked away the thoughts of how to repay him as he offered her his home. She thought for a moment, contemplating going back to Amity Road, but knew that she might not make it there without some kind of intervention. Finally, after a beat of silence, she nodded. “Sure, and I’d appreciate it if I could get something dry to wear?” It was a big ask, considering he had dove in after her, but she was sure he would have offered anyway. It was an odd thing, making friendships like this already, all in the name of being saved from something as simple as human contraptions, but if there was anyone who could understand, then surely it’d be another shifter. 

—

“No,” Felix agreed with a quiet laugh, “not us.” Are we people? He wanted to ask, but he was afraid of how she might answer. Shifters, he often thought, walked a strange line that other supernatural species didn’t have to balance. Not quite human, not quite beast, but existing in some eternal in-between. They couldn’t pretend to know how it was for kitsune, but they knew how it was for them. It was a strange thing, often an uncomfortable one. You couldn’t fit in entirely unless you were with someone like you. But… Felix felt they fit in well enough with Mona. With Anita, too, and Samir. Maybe that was the trick to it. Find people like you, and you can make a place for yourself. It was a nice feeling.

Offering her a small smile, Felix nodded their head. “Definitely,” they agreed. “I think we can find something that will fit you.” Quietly, he ushered her off towards safety. Towards home. All in all, they thought… this really wasn’t the worst way this night could have gone.

[heres-to-all-that-is-mine]

Who is Helena Matthews?

Oh I’m so glad you asked see (description of terrible parenting)

Helena Fucking Matthews is my dear Gene-Eric Matthews’ Mother.

(^ this is Gene-Eric (well. An au version of him. Ordinarily he doesn’t have that scar there))

And she sucks.

In short; She’s a vain, self-obsessed greedy selfish and manipulative person who married his father, Gregory, out of a desire to gain footing in his social circles.

Gregory was a rich man who’s family, which he was mostly distanced from, gained power and fame through unsavoury means. He was a kind man who disapproved of his family’s actions, but he was also - unfortunately - head over heels for Helena, and a bit of a doormat for her.

While Helena did care for him, she mainly loved what she could get through him. Namely the life of luxury his name granted them.

Some years into their marriage, they had a child! They named him Gene-Eric, because they couldn’t decide between the two names, and did not realise in time what exactly that sounded like. Things were… good, for a while. Helena, while not exactly as deeply in love with their family as Gregory was, did take care of Gene and was affectionate with Gregory and attended all the parties and fancy restaurant outings and was perfectly happy with what she had.

And then… a tragedy. Gregory died in an accident.

And Helena found herself desperate, as without her husband she didn’t have a foot in the door to the polite society circles she was accustomed to, and she made nowhere near the amount of money her husband had. She turned to drinking, became angry and depressed, cold towards her son.

…until she realised her son was exactly what she needed.

What followed was years of awfulness for Gene, as his mother, who resented him, used him as her ticket to a good life - dragging him to parties, neglecting him until she needed him, forcing him to uphold the visage of the perfect son in the perfect family. Things were bad.

So, in his teens, when Gene realised he was gay and that his mother would hate him even more for it, he ran away. He’d gotten rather good at acting from the need to pretend throughout all of his childhood, and he came to find it useful in his life after then - as a criminal.