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This, this is what I need

Y/N: I'm ambidextrous.

Bart: That's what's up, bro, love who you love.

Jaime: *facepalms* Bart... No... That's not what that means...

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Ive started using OLD drafts, im in too deep 😭

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SpiderVerse x Gn!reader

Content:

Small scenarios from the movie with YOU being slotted in there (Scenes not in order)

Small scenarios not canon in the movie

Implied Mixed reader if you REALLY read between the lines

Talks of a school so, you can think it’s an AU? Or they somehow go to school together 😭😭

Warnings: Swearing, drugs and alcohol, blood mentions

Enjoy :]]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

>Seeing Hobie take his mask off<

Hobie: I was this cool the whole time

[Name]: And hot, really really fucking hot

Miles: I- What??

[Name]: You heard me Morales

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pavitr: New guy must be in love with you~

Gwen and Miles: *Sounds of denial*

[Name]: Yeah no definitely in lov- *Gets kicked off*

Miles:….Don’t worry they’ve survived worse

Pavitr: THAT DOESN’T MAKE THIS OKAY NEW GUY!

*Splat*

Everyone: Oh shi-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gwen: So, what exactly was the game plan when we snuck into Miguel’s office?

Pavitr: Well, I don’t think we had one actually *Shoulder shrugs*

Hobie: This is fun isn’t it mates?

Miles: No, believe it or not I do NOT think swinging upside from a roof tied together is ‘Fun’ man!

[Name]: Shut up Miles, who asked you?

Miles: THIS IS YOUR FAILED IDEA! YOU SHUT UP

[Name]: *mumbled* Hater-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miguel: Listen Miles, you’re just going to have to accept this

Miles: NO! WHY WOULD I LET MY DAD DIE??

Miguel: Because, it’s part of the can-

[Name]: Look at this guy, really showing us some real DAUGHTERLESS behaviour

Miguel: 👁️👁️….👹

[Name]: SHIT…RUN

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gwen: Where are Miles and [Name]?

Pavitr: Last i saw they were studying?

Gwen: Those two? STUDYING? BULL. SHIT

*They walk to the library*

Gwen: Alright where are thos-

*[Name], Miles and Hobie playing games on their computers*

Gwen: See, studying my ass. HOBIE?? WE HAVE BAND PRACTICE!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miles: This is why I get A’s in math!

[Name]: This is why I get A’s in Spanish! I mean like come ON!!

Miles: I- well uhhh. I draw better than you!

[Name]:…I’m stealing your parents from you.

Miles: WHAT?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pavitr: If two mind readers read each others minds, whose mind are they reading?

Hobie: Mate, what’re you on about??

[Name]: Depends did they start at the same time?

Gwen: No, both of you shut up now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Name]: So we found something…mysterious

42!Miles: Drugs [Name], we found drugs

[Name]: Let’s tell your dad…oh wait 😨

42!Miles: I’ll actually kill you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*[Name] crashes into 42!Miles’ room bloodied and injured*

[Name]: Oh heyyyyy, how you doin’? 🫣

42!Miles: You’re bleeding on my floors get the fuck out

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mr. Morales: So, what..what IS this?

*Miles and [Name] just kinda stuck upside down in his room*

[Name]: AYEE, what’s up Mr M, dinner was great last Wednesday :D

Miles: Not the time [Name], not the time at all man

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No because honestly, people can't seem to grasp that people 14-18 can look way older?? Like not all of us look our ages.

How do I tell people that Hobie is in fact labeled as “badmouthed teenager” since 2014 and is 16-17 in the comics and that just because he doesn’t have a confirmed/canonical age in ATSV, he’s still in the age range of a teenager (16-18) and that he is most definitely not 28 like people are saying (They’re getting things mixed up with Prowler Hobie, who is an adult, and assuming his age of his facial features in his current redesign while saying micro aggressions and I don’t know how to say it without getting jumped…again)

How do I tell them Punkflower has been a thing since 2018 or 2019 and they have interacted in the comics (they are close in age)

How do I tell people that if they’re against Punkflower and calling it a proship then it’s the same thing when people say Hobie and Gwen did ykyk. (They don’t want to accept that fact because they’re just homophobic and would rather focus on Hobie’s age until there’s a girl in the mix ‼️)

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I re-watched young justice and Wally's death broke me but this? This is Canon. 😡😡

Resurrection - Wally West

Pairing: Wally West x gn! Reader, platonic! Dick Grayson x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: it’s been almost a year since Wally died, and life has not been kind to you. it doesn’t help that when you get the flu and your fever spikes, you start seeing the speedster everywhere you turn

CW: loss of a loved one, grief, sickness, hallucinations, reader is worried they’re going crazy, overactive imagination, mentioned of death, mentions of suicide, panic attacks, ghosts, reader was a part of Young Justice, mutual pining, friends to lovers, resurrection

This alludes heavily to the Young Justice tv show, especially Wally’s death. I apologize in advance because I have poor knowledge of the Flash Family and speedforce!!

day 1 of me pushing my Wally West agenda!! i absolutely adore Wally, and im so happy to be writing about him. this is literally the longest thing ive ever posted on this sight but I got so into the story that I couldn’t stop. hopefully this makes sense and isn’t just a jumble of words 😭also i think from now on im gonna include wally in any of my dick/jason/tim hcs

also im very tempted to do a pt2/make a series of wally adapting to life afterwards

————

You groan in your bed, your fever spiking to an almost unbearable temperature. You spend a lot of time in bed nowadays—ever since your best friend died almost a year ago, you haven’t had the drive to do much. But being sick the past week has only confined you to your bed even more. 

You roll over, hoping the other half of your pillow is somehow cooler than the side you’re on now. It’s not, and your body feels like it’s going to overheat. If it was possible to put less clothing on, you would, but the chances of your roommate coming in and seeing you naked are too high. 

Speaking of your roommate, you know that when Dick comes home and sees how bad your temperature has gotten, he’ll rush you to the hospital. Paranoid, big brother Dick who insists he can’t lose another friend. Dick, who moved in with you a few months after Wally died because he was afraid you might hurt yourself. Dick, who forced you to put socks on and keep most of your clothes on because even though you feel hot, he knows you’re still vulnerable to the cold. 

The socks scratch at your ankles now and you long to pull them off, lazily dragging your feet together. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm your burning nerve ends. 

As much pain as you’re in, this is the most you’ve felt since Wally died. From the day you watched him get vaporised, everything around you has just gotten duller by the day. You can hardly stomach to put on your costume, let alone look at Barry or Bart. Even seeing The Flash on the news is enough to make you sick. 

“Y/n,” a soft voice echoes from the bed next to you. 

You force your eyes open, your dark room greeting you. “Hello?”

There’s no answer, and you’re able to close your eyes again. You relax into your bedsheets, kicking the blankets off of your legs in a desperate attempt to get some relief. Clearly your fever has spiked to the point where you’re losing it. 

“Y/n!” The voice is stronger now, and it sounds more desperate than before. More than that—there’s something familiar to it. 

You open your eyes again and gasp, all of the breath leaving your body. There, sitting on the bed next to you, is Wally. His green eyes are full of concern, his mouth pulled into a tight line. 

“Oh god,” you whine, “I really am losing it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the hallucination of your dead best friend to go away. How could any god be so cruel to inflict this on you? Knowing how you felt about Wally—and what he’d said to you during your last moments together?

When you open your eyes again, he’s still sitting there. His unruly red hair is falling into his face and all you want is to reach out and brush it away. 

“You’re not losing it,” he says. 

“I’m so sick that I’m hallucinating my dead best friend. How is that not losing it?”

He shrugs. “I mean it does sound pretty crazy, but I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re dead,” you say simply, voice void of emotions. “You died and you left and you’re never coming back.”

“I got better.”

Everything about him screams Wally. His voice, his mannerisms, even the stupid jokes he makes. But you know it’s just your brain playing a stupid trick on you. Your braincells have overheated and you’re left staring at a ghost. 

“No, you didn’t. And you never will, Wally. And I know that so I don’t get why my stupid brain can’t leave this alone.”

He lays down on his side next to you, looking up at you with those doe eyes. “There wasn’t a body, you know.”

His words make you angry, they make you choke on the lump in your throat. But he’s right. Something about his death always seemed wrong to you, and even after this long, you still can’t accept it. He’s saying all of the right things, and it almost makes you believe he’s really here. 

“So say you are here…why now? Why here? Why am I the only one who’s seen you?”

He strokes his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “I don’t really know, y/n. I’ve been here the whole time. I’ve watched everything. I know how hard things have been for you guys…” 

You don’t say anything, just staring at him expectantly, forcing him to keep talking. 

“I’m sorry you’re sick, but I’m glad Dick is taking care of you.”

“Answer the question, Wally. Why now?”

He sighs. “I think it’s because you’re sick. I think once your fever got past a certain point you were able to hear me, and once you could hear me, you could see me.”

“How would that even work?” You squint at him, “how did you even know I could hear you?”

“I didn’t it’s just—it’s a habit to talk to you, you know? But anyway, I think it has something to do with the speed force being attracted to the release of energy, and whenever you have a fever, you release massive amounts of it. But since yours is so high…” he gestures at himself for emphasis. 

“So as long as I stay sick, I can see you?”

“I think so.”

“Then I never want to get better,” you murmur. 

“Y/n,” he sighs, and the tone he uses makes you freeze. You’ve only ever heard him use it once before—with you on the day he died. 

The thought brings a tear to your eye, his words echoing in your ears. I love you, y/n, I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?

When Dick gets home from work, he’s surprised to hear you talking. His first instinct is that you’re feeling better and you’re arranging to go back to work, but as he gets closer to your bedroom door, he realizes it’s not the case. 

He listens in for a bit, hearing a one sided conversation. As soon as he hears you say ‘Wally’, he’s barging through your door only to find you talking to the air. 

“Dick!” You cry out, gesturing to the empty bed next to you, “look! He’s back, he’s here. Wally’s here!”

Dick’s heart aches for you. You’re clearly unwell and in your feverish state, your mind is playing tricks on you. 

“Y/n,” Dick sighs, “I think it’s time we go to a doctor.”

He approaches your bedside slowly, trying not to startle or upset you. He knows you’re hallucinating, and he really doesn’t want to trigger anything worse to happen. 

He kneels at your bedside, just behind Wally. “Come on, we need to get you to the hospital.”

“N-no! I can’t leave Wally!”

Wally’s face crinkles up the way it always has when he feels guilty. “Y/n, I think you should go with Rob.”

“No!” You cry out, “you can’t leave me again!”

Dick gives you no warning before he’s pulling you into his arms, your feverish skin scorching his. He holds you securely, even as you cry and beg him to take you back to Wally. 

“Wally, please! Do something! Let him see you! Don’t—don’t leave me again!”

“Y/n,” Dick rubs your sweaty hair out of your face. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re really sick, and you’re hallucinating, but we’ll make you all better. I just need you to trust me.”

You take a deep breath, and then another, looking over Dick’s shoulder at the redhead sitting on your bed, giving you a sad look. He gives you a wave, “it’s okay, y/n. Everything will be okay.”

You just hope he’s right. 

—

The hospital takes an eternity to admit you, leaving you lying on Dick’s lap in the waiting room. You keep your eyes closed, hoping that if you open them Wally will be there, but you know he won’t. 

Dick strokes your hair, rubs your back, does anything he can to keep you comfortable. When a nurse finally calls your name, he helps you to your feet and half carries you down the hall. 

They leave the two of you in a small, isolated room with a bed covered in scratchy sheets. Dick helps you climb up while the nurse insists a doctor will be by shortly. 

Dick holds your hand the whole time, the skin on his palm turning sweaty from where your hand touches his. Your fever has only gone up since you left the house and you feel like you’re going to burn alive. 

Finally, a doctor comes in and she starts to run all kinds of tests on you. After a while, they insert an IV into your arm and push fluids to keep you hydrated. They give you medicine to help you drift off to sleep, your eyes fluttering shut before you realize what’s happening. 

You wake up a few hours later, Dick no longer asleep at your bedside. Your temperature has gone down, and while you still feel feverish, you’re coherent enough to know what’s going on around you. 

“—hallucinating our best friend who died almost a year ago.” Dick tried to keep his voice down but you can hear it from the hallway. 

“It’s common in extremely high fever’s to experience visual, auditory and sometimes even tactile hallucinations,” the doctor explains. “Y/n’s fever was beyond high enough to cause any number of these complications.” 

Your shoulders slump. You knew deep down that Wally wasn’t really there, that he was a hallucination, but a part of you just hoped…

“But it’s going to be alright? There’s not any permanent side effects?”

The doctor sounds tired of Dick’s questions. “No, we’re keeping y/n overnight for observation but there shouldn’t be any long term side effects.”

Dick thanks the woman and slips back into your room, stopping in his tracks past the door when he realises you’re awake. “How are you feeling?” He whispers. 

“Somewhat better,” you admit. “Not hallucinating anymore.”

He sits in the chair next to your bed and squeezes your hand. “That’s good to hear.”

“I-I’m sorry if I upset you earlier…talking about Wally and everything. I just—it seemed so real, you know? He was right there, Dick.”

“I know. You don’t need to apologize. Your mind was playing tricks on you, n/n. I know you didn’t mean any harm by it.”

You can’t help the tears that trickle down your cheeks. “I just—I miss him so much!” 

“It’s okay,” Dick leans over your bed, pulling you tightly to his chest. “I miss him too. I miss him so, so much. And if there was any chance…you know I would take it too.”

“Did I ever tell you what he said to me that day? Just before he passed?”

Dick shakes his head. 

“He said—,” your voice shakes so severely it’s hard to get the words out. “He said ‘I love you, y/n. I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?’” 

The gears in Dick’s brain click together, and suddenly everything makes sense. It was no secret that you and Wally had been pining after each other for years. Always cuddling and fighting and loving and hating each other. Dick was close to both of you, and he of all people knew how your feelings were bubbling over. He knew how badly you wanted to be with Wally—and how badly Wally wanted to be with you.

It’s a cruel joke, he thinks. That in one day you got everything you wanted, and an hour later had it ripped away. No wonder you’d been like a zombie this year.

“Y/n…” he squeezes your hand reassuringly. 

You squeeze his hand back, and between the fever and the medicine and Dick’s skin on yours, everything in the world feels right for a minute. 

—

It takes two weeks for you to fully recover from being sick. If it weren’t for your roommate being the ultra rich adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, you probably would have had to go back to work sooner. Dick insisted that you stay home until you were fully recovered, though, offering to cover your bills for the month. 

It’s also been two weeks since you saw Wally. It’s been easy to brush it off as a fever dream, but something deep within you wants it to be something more than that. Still, you try to continue on with your day to day life, putting thoughts of the speedster as far away from you as possible. 

You pull into the Bludhaven News parking lot with ten minutes to spare. You grab your bag from the passenger seat and clip your badge to your shirt before grabbing the coffee you’d stopped for on the way. You’re determined to make today a good day. 

You settle in at your desk, smiling at the picture of you and the original Young Justice team was kids. It makes you happy, but in the most bittersweet meaning of the word. You run your fingers across the glass, stopping them at the lightning symbol on Wally’s chest. 

You’re interrupted by your boss stopping at your desk. 

“Hey, l/n, good to have you back,” she smiles, and you feel as though she really means it. “We’re having a meeting in five minutes.”

You nod, thanking her. She leaves you at your desk, letting you get organized before you have to meet them in the conference room. 

You bring your laptop and coffee and settle in at the big round table in the spinning desk chair. Other journalists, reporters and higher ups slowly file into the room, filling it up until it’s so full it feels almost hard to breathe. 

Your boss enters the room last, standing at the front in front of the tv. She welcomes you back before explaining what’s going on in current events, and what she expects everyone to report on. 

You sip your coffee, zoning out for the majority of her presentation. Every once and a while, she clicks a remote and the screen changes to a new slide. You don’t pay much attention to the tv, only glancing at it every so often. 

When the screen changes to three familiar figures, you freeze. It feels like someone dumped cold water on you, and you’re painfully aware of everything going on around you. 

The screen shows Wally, Bart and Barry on the day he died. Wally has a big grin on his face, clad in his Kid Flash suit, giving a salute to a security camera. You’re not sure how they got this picture, but a part of you wishes they didn’t. 

“—the one year anniversary since the Flash Family saved the world, and since Kid Flash bravely sacrificed himself to achieve this goal. We want to honour them for their ultimate sacrifice, and that’s why this month, we’ll be doing daily pieces on the great exploits of the family. Also—,”

Her words echo in your ears, everything feels far away from you. The only thing you can focus on is the way your heart is pounding and the way all the air is sucked out of your lungs. Wally’s face stares at you from the tv screen, and the walls close in. 

You’re on your feet in an instant. “Pardon me,” you rasp out, before almost running out of the room. 

You’re not sure where you’re going. Your head is spinning, your heart is racing, everything is fading away. You stumble your way into the bathroom, locking the door behind you before your knees buckle and you hit the floor. 

You claw at your throat, desperate for air. You squeeze your eyes shut, clenching your fists, desperate for pressure. When you open your eyes, you swear Wally is there. 

“You’re not here,” you gasp. “You’re not real.”

Wally’s green eyes are wide, staring at you with concern. “Y/n—,”

“You’re not real! You’re just some ghost—fucking haunting me for no reason at all!”

It breaks his heart to see you like this. So sad, so hurt, barely able to breathe. 

“Stop,” you choke out, “stop haunting me! Stop, stop, stop it!”

Wally hasn’t seen you have a panic attack this bad since you were kids. Curled up in a ball, gasping for air and repeating the same word over and over again. He’s desperate to help you—help you like he did back then. 

He doesn’t even register what he’s doing until he pulls you into his lap, arms tight around your waist. He keeps a hand over your heart, tracing circles over it. 

“Y/n, y/n…” He murmurs softly, “y/n, listen to me. Deep breath in, okay? Follow my example, feel my heart beating.”

You’re not sure how you can feel his arms on you, feel his heart beating against your back. You’re half convinced you’ve already fainted, and you’re laying on the bathroom floor having another fever dream. 

Still, you follow his example. You breathe in when you feel his chest rise, and breathe out when you feel his chest fall. You stay silent for a few minutes, leaning completely against Wally until you can breathe again. 

Wally rubs your hair, his other hand tracing circles on your hip bone. “How are you feeling?” He asks. 

“Better,” you admit. 

It takes a few minutes longer for either of you to register that he’s touching you. His hands are on your body and you can feel them. 

“Wally, you’re touching me.”

“I’m touching you?”

The shock is almost enough to send you back into a panic attack. Ghosts can’t touch people, neither can fever dreams. But somehow, someway, Wally West is holding you in his arms. 

—

You leave the bathroom ten minutes later, after you and Wally went back and forth on if he was really there with you or not. You insist you’re losing it, but Wally insists he’s there, and somehow when you were sick, you connected to the speed force and now you can see him. 

You head back to your desk with no intention of working, set on researching the speed force and if it’s possible to connect to it without being a speedster. Of course, Google doesn’t yield the results you hope, so you decide to go a different route. 

You pull out your phone and text Dick. 

You: do you think you could get me Barry’s number? need it for work 

Robin 1.0: I think I can manage 

You: you’re the best 

Robin 1.0: don’t you know it

It only takes a few minutes before he texts you his contact for Barry Allen. You waste no time in opening the contact and sending him a quick text. 

Of course, you don’t get to see what he responds because suddenly your boss is over your shoulder. 

“Y/n, you know what our policy is on personal devices at work. There’s too much sensitive information here.”

“I know, I know. But if I play my cards right,” your ability to think on your feet coming in handy, “I could get us an exclusive interview with the Flash.”

She lights up at that. “Okay, but remember, no pictures or recordings.”

“Sure thing,” you nod and wait for her to leave before opening up your phone and seeing that you have a new text. 

You: can I ask you a few questions on the speed force?

Barry Allen: sure thing

You: i know the speedforce is like it’s own separate thing that speedsters connect to, but is it possible for non speedsters to connect to it? 

Barry Allen: only under extenuating circumstances. not every ordinary person can just connect to it, but if you’ve been in contact with the speedforce unwittingly or if a speedster has accidentally shared particles with you it’s possible. why?

You: just…a theory im working on for work. we’re doing a piece on Flash Family to honour you guys for saving the world and I wanted to look into it more 

You: thank you

Barry Allen: do you think you’ve been in contact with a speedster recently?

You: i don’t know, if I’m being honest. 

Barry Allen: okay…keep me updated, okay? if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask 

You: thanks

You frown, your conversation with Barry only making you feel more confused. How would you have had contact with a speedster or the speedforce? It’s been almost a year since you last touched Wally, and there’s no way the symptoms are only coming out now. And the speedforce—there’s no way for you to have connected with it either. 

You look up from your phone only to see Wally sitting on your desk, looking at you with amusement. “Get what you wanted?”

“Why are you still here?”

“What?” He holds his hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “You don’t want me here?”

You go to speak but realize your coworkers are giving you strange looks. You quickly put your phone up to your ear, pretending to be on a phone call. 

“Of course I want you here. I lo—miss you, okay? But it’s not possible. You shouldn’t be here.”

“But I am, y/n. And did Barry not just confirm that to you?”

You sigh. “I will admit, what Barry said does confirm my theory, and what you said while I was sick but…”

“But?”

“It shouldn’t be possible. You were vaporized, Wally. You’re dead. So even if you are here, you’re just a ghost.” 

“Ghost, schmost,” he rolls his eyes, leaning in to flick your arm. “Does that not feel real to you?”

“I don’t know, okay? Just—I need time to think. About everything.”

You don’t say it, but it lingers in the air: I need time to think about you. 

You put your phone down, indicating to the boy that you’re done talking, before returning to your job. The day goes by fast when you’re contemplating if you’re actually being haunted by the ghost of your best friend or not. 

Before you know it, you’re heading home. When you get through the door of the apartment, Dick is nowhere to be found. He must still be at work, you think. 

You kick off your shoes and set your bag on the counter before throwing yourself on your bed. You lay down for only a minute before a familiar cologne fills your scent. One you haven’t smelled in a long time. 

You don’t need to open your eyes to know that Wally is back. “What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping I could catch you changing,” you can hear the grin in his voice. 

You sit up, staring at him with wide eyes. “Wait—if you’ve been here this whole time then…?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I didn’t! I mean, I thought about it but…it feels wrong.” 

“More wrong than confessing your love to me and then dying?”

Both of you freeze after that, and your hand flies up to your mouth as if you can force the words back in there. 

“I—y/n…you know that if I had a choice, I would have come back to you. Right?”

You nod, “I know. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he places a hand over yours. “I wanted to come back to you. Even though you didn’t say it back, I just thought—”

“You didn’t give me a chance to say it back! You dumped all that on me and then you ran away and left, Wally! You didn’t give me the chance!”

Your outburst surprises both of you. Wally isn’t sure what to do—if he should apologize or be angry or both or neither. So he says nothing. 

“I-I think you should go, Wally. You’re only doing harm by being here. You’re dead and I need to move on and I never will if you’re just here haunting me.”

You expect him to argue or to make a joke, but the boy doesn’t do any of that. He gives you a lazy, one handed salute, like the kind he would give before speeding away as kids. 

And then he disappears. 

You feel sad and angry all at the same time. You know it’s not fair to Wally to lash out at him like that, but how is it fair for him to open up old wounds? For him to haunt you? 

When Dick gets home, he’s surprised to see you dressed in your old costume. It’s been so long since you put it on, you look almost strange to him. 

“Uh, y/n?” He asks, “not that I’m against this but, what’s up with the costume?”

“I was thinking I could go out on patrol with you tonight,” you explain. “It’s been a while. I need to blow off steam.” 

“Okay, let me get changed.”

That’s good enough for you, so you settle in at the counter and wait for Nightwing to suit up. He comes out a few minutes later, clad in the black and blue Nightwing suit. 

He looks at you seriously through his domino mask. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“If I don’t get out, I’ll go stir crazy.”

“Okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender. “But don’t push yourself, okay? And I’ll be there the whole time.”

“Alright, dad,” you roll your eyes. “Let’s go.”

—

Patrol goes fine. It’s just the usual robberies and gang violence, nothing that you and Nightwing can’t handle. Of course, that’s until you hear there’s a bank robbery over the scanner. 

The two of you are about to take off and head towards the bank when you hear the radio go off again. This time, it’s a jewellery store being robbed. 

“Go!” You say to Nightwing, “you get the bank, I can handle the store.”

He seems content with that answer, grappling to the nearest rooftop and heading off towards the bank. You turn and head towards the jewellery store, hoping it’s enough to take your mind off of Wally. 

You get to the store just in time to stop the robbers from shooting the owner.  You knock the gun out of one of their hands, turning to fight the other one. There’s five total, maybe six, but your vision is tunnelling and all you can focus on is the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your need for a distraction. 

You make your way through three of them, and just as you turn to fight the fourth, you hear someone yell from behind you. 

“Y/n, look out!”

You knock out the fourth and turn around, just in time to see Wally West pass through you and punch the man in the face. He hits him hard enough to send him falling to the floor.

You stare at Wally in shock. “You—you hit him!”

“Are you okay?” He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“You saved me…” You mutter. “How did you do that?”

“I-I don’t know,” he admits, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt and then I passed through you and—”

“Dick!” You exclaim, realising you haven’t heard anything from him in a while, and that he still hasn’t returned to you. “Somethings wrong, Wal. We—I gotta go!”

Wally goes to protest, but you’re already running away. Not only are you running away, you’re running at the speed of light, yellow lightning crackling from your ankles. You don’t realize it, too focused on getting to Dick. 

You arrive at the bank to see a bunch of lackeys passed out on the floor. Nightwing is leaning on a counter, holding his hands over a bullet hole in his side. 

“Hey!” You cry out, skidding to a stop next to him. The bank smells gross, like gunpowder and..burning rubber? “Are you okay? Did you get them all?”

He clenched his jaw. “All but one. He headed North, there’s no way we’ll catch him. He’s probably out of town by now.”

“No, he’s not going to get away with this. We’re going to find him.”

And before Dick can ask, you’re tearing away from the bank, lightning in your wake. His jaw falls open at the sight. In the dark, with the speed you’re going and the lightning coming out, you almost look like Wally…

You run as fast as you can, keeping your eyes peeled for the man driving the truck of jewels. You catch up to him in no time, throwing your body weight against the truck fast enough to tip it over. 

Your veins are electrified, pure lightning in your system, better than adrenaline ever could be. You rip the man out of the truck and toss him onto the street. It only takes one hit for you to knock him out, and only a few more seconds to tie him up. 

It’s then that you realize what just happened, how fast you were going. You look down to see the soles of your shoes on fire, the thighs of your costume torn open from the fabric chafing so fast.

Something about the ruined shoes and the torn fabric makes you think of Wally, and the thought of the ghost in the bank saving your life only makes you want to run even more. Is this how he felt everytime he ran? It’s exhilarating, it only makes you want more.

You keep running, running straight up the side of a building before stopping in your tracks on the roof. How did this even happen? You look around, half expecting to see Wally there, but he’s not. 

Your legs quiver, threatening to collapse beneath you. Your feet ache from all of the running and your shoes have practically disintegrated into nothing. You know you’re done for the night, your body at its absolute limit. 

Your knees buckle, but before you can hit the ground, there’s a streak of yellow and suddenly Wally is holding you up against his chest. 

“I—what’s going on?” You ask. 

Wally holds you up with one arm, staring at his other hand. He shakes it, going fast enough to make it seem as though his hand is vibrating. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I—something’s changed. I can feel it.”

You hear the unmistakable sound of a grappling hook before Nightwing is landing on the roof. “Holy shit, y/n. How were you going so fast? For a second there, I thought it was—Wally?”

His face pales at the sight of the redhead, clad in his Kid Flash suit, holding you up against his body. There’s no way he’s here now, alive and well, right in front of his eyes. 

“You…you can see him?”

Dick is running across the roof in an instant, feet pushing him closer to his best friend. He jumps on both of you, arms wrapping around you both. “Wally,” he sobs into his shoulder. “How—how are you here?”

There’s another flash of lightning—red lightning—and suddenly The Flash is standing next to you guys. “I can answer that.”

Wally grins insanely wide, making sure you’re steady against Dick before jumping to hug his former mentor. 

“How did you know I was here?” He asks. 

Barry smiles, “I could feel it. In the speedforce. There was a huge amount of energy released and then for the first time in a year, I could feel you.”

“But how did that happen?” Dick interjects, before adding, “not that we’re not happy to see you.” 

Wally goes back to hugging you, wiping off the tears that have slipped from your eyes and kissing the top of your forehead. “I think y/n here somehow borrowed my speed and-and opened a portal into the speedforce.”

“I brought you back?” Your voice is so quiet it’s barely a whisper. 

“You brought me back!” He’s beaming at you. 

He wraps his arms around your waist, spinning you in a circle. He sets you down on the ground, only to tip your head back and plant a kiss to your lips. It’s intense, passionate, full of the longing he’s felt for you since you were kids. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, using him to keep yourself up. His body is so warm and hard under your touch, so familiar to you. You draw him closer, not even caring if Dick and Barry are standing there staring at you. 

When he finally pulls away, he flashes you the biggest smile in the world. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“So,” Dick awkwardly says, “why don’t we take this back to our place?”

Wally grabs your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “I think that’s a really good idea.”

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IM OBSESSED, IVE READ THIS LIKE 6 TIMES JUST CS ITS NICE DONEODHODNSIWJ

Miles Morales x chaotic Reader~♡

Pairing(s): Miles x Gn! Reader (gender non-specific, no use of pronouns)

A/N: just everyones favorite chaotic duo

Reader is also a vigilante

You two were like tweedle dee and tweedle dum. Always around each other one way or another.

A typical school day to Miles was you both walking to school together and starting your day off with a not so upbeat attitude.

To say that Miles was a bit shocked that someone as chaotic as you hasn't been expelled was an understatement.

You werent loud per se but well... you were definitely troublesome.

Always dragging Miles to some new adventure, just as risky as the last.

Miles always calls you the chaotic one as if he wasn't the polar opposite of his civilian self when he's Spiderman .

Its like he's a whole new person .. not that, thats a bad thing

Some could say your chaoticness has had some influence on Miles. At first he was hesitant to go all out on criminals and notorious villians, however once you came into the scene it was like he was your own reflection.

You two became so notorious for wreaking havoc on all of new york, eventually, Miles told you to call it quits since the media was having a field day.

Doesn't stop how notorious you've become amongst the media and how your fanbase is just as notorious.

Now, back at school its pretty much the same.

You, being the trouble and Miles just being... sorta there...

Its kinda ironic since you're known as the chaotic troublesome kid around others while in the eyes of Rio and Jeff you're the best kid there is to have their son around

He swears sometimes it's like you're their kid instead of him...

[friendly-reject]

No Cs ong me

Incorrect quotes pt.2

Atsv x male reader

Characters: Peter b. Parker, hobie, gwen, miles, miguel

Genre: crack

————————————————————————

M/n: The Ocean is a soup.

Peter b. Parker:

Peter b. Parker: Do elaborate.

M/n: What are needed for something to be a soup?

Peter b. Parker: Erm... Water, salt, some form of vegetation, and personally I prefer some meat in mine.

M/n: *Tilts head*

Peter b. Parker: The Ocean is a Soup.

M/n: The Ocean is a Soup.

————————————————————————

Hobie: Christmas is cancelled.

Miles: You can't cancel a holiday.

Hobie: Keep it up, miles, and you'll lose New Year's too.

Miles: What does that mean?

Hobie: m/n take New Year's away from miles

————————————————————————

M/n: Hey, I say we go down there, kick miles’s door in, and let him know that we’re in town.

Gwen: That ain’t the way we do things here. We may have to go in there and run a con, drop a bug, do the smooth talking.

M/n: Okay, you come with me, you do the smooth talking, let’s go.

Gwen: No, we just can’t go in there and kick down miles’s door. We need a plan.

M/n: Well who makes the plans?

Gwen: miguel

M/n: miguel, what's the plan?

Miguel: You guys are gonna go down there, kick miles’s door in, let him know you’re in town.

————————————————————————

Reblogs are greatly appreciated:)

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IVE NEVER SEEN ANY OF THIS PERSONS CONTENT BUT THEY HAVE MY FULL SUPPORT

Fuck them lazy ass bitches 😭 how can you write a whole novel but too lazy to put the gender of the reader.. I was peacefully reading a fanfic and then i got bump with "Good girl" or "Baby girl" MAN. IF I CAN WRITE A FANFIC I'M GOING TO BUMP YOU BITCHES WITH "Y/n pull out his big fat cock" ONCE I LEARN TO BE BETTER AT ENGLISH AND BEING ABLE TO WRITE A FANFIC IT'S OVER FOR Y'ALL.

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~Precious indeed~ Imagine

He looked up from his food to you, smiling as he waved. Staring at his gorgeous eyes with a dreamy look on your face you waved back as he went back to eating, "You're amazing, even when you're not trying to be ya' are", You spoke out. Staring at you confused he tilted his head giggling "W-what??", grabbing a glass of water so he wouldn't choke. Shrugging your shoulders, gazing at him like there was nothing better on this planet to do. Leaning over the table, grabbing his face and kissing his forehead, he was even more confused but you were even more in love.

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

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GAWD DAMNNN THIS WAS SO GOOD

selective kindness

notes: written as a request from here! it wasn't specified if you wanted the hcs to be romantic or platonic, so i went with a more platonic scenario :)

contains: kenny mccormick x gender neutral reader, craig tucker x gender neutral reader, kyle broflowski x gender neutral reader

characters: kenny, craig, kyle

warnings: n/a

. ☁️ .

Most kids found you intimidating, others thought you were straight up weird. Your aggressive nature and snappy comments wasn't out of the ordinary for this school, but that didn't do much to ease the tension the followed wherever you went. It came as more than a shock to find out that you seemed to drop the attitude around...

꒰ kenny. ꒱

kenny doesn't care if you're mean to him or not. he deals with his friends every day, so anything that came out of your mouth couldn't possibly be worse than what he heard at the bus stop every day.

he appreciated you chilling out around him, though! anything that makes his day a little easier is a win in his mind

he feels a little badass when he walks around with you at school. watching you snap on people who come close to you is literally so entertaining to him 💀

he instigates your temper tantrums sometimes

꒰ craig. ꒱

craig was fully ready to drop the most vile insults at you when he was randomly paired with you for a project

that middle finger was locked and ready

but the insults don't come. in fact, you act sweeter when he's in your presence

he tries to test how far your patience will last with him. he does not believe that you if all people should be able to last long without snapping on someone

after a while, you start to grow on him, and he starts to enjoy his time around you! he just wishes you could find a quieter way to express your anger, so that you didn't land yourself in detention so much

“ i'm telling you, just flip 'em off. it says a lot more than yelling. ”

꒰ kyle. ꒱

kyle doesn't know how to feel. on one hand, he would rather not have someone else being an asshole to him at school. on the other hand, this feels like a front

why are you so nice?? did you want something from him??

being around cartman so much makes him very suspicious of your intentions

that doesn't mean he doesn't take advantage of it. in his mind, he would rather make you snap on cartman's ass now than have you snap on himself later

he is very suprised when you actually stick around him. he doesn't mind it though! he really loves having a scary guard dog friend

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Im just picky at this point lmao

I'm so done with seeing the writing style of

"You asshole, suck a dick." (Aka coloured speech/People speaking is coloured) AND Y/N IS ALWAYS PINK, and it's just the whole fic in general, bc I mostly read Genderneutral stuff even tho my bio says Genderfluid. It's like people hate not having a feminine coded reader, like we get it that's your main style of writing but like drop a hint? Just add a little side note that it's "Feminine coded", and I'm not saying pink is a feminine colour because like be fr it's a colour people :/, but it's how people write the reader ex. 'Y/n applied their glittery lip gloss and popped her pink lips' "Mmm strawberry" and than having the audacity to say that the fic is actually Genderneutral, when THEY LITERALLY USED 'HER', especially cause there are all different kinds of Genderneutral people, some masculine, some feminine all valid. But just a little side note would be nice yk. -_-

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Preach

plenty of "girl who looks cute wearing her boyfriend's clothes" content out there but not enough "guy who looks cute wearing his girlfriend's clothes" in my opinion. where's your commitment. where's your bisexuality.

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Fuck sake, this is getting annoying

When will writers realise that calling your piece 'Genderneutral' than slapping us in the face with "Good girl" or "Good boy" isn't yk AT ALL GENDER-NEUTRAL, how would you like it if I wrote something and called it 'Female reader' than called you everything gender related under the sun that wasn't at all close to female? You'd hate it wouldn't ya? Cause at this point, ya'll wanna fight istg.

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Me secretly hoping for a part two: 👀👀

a gradum ad lumen - part 1 .

decided to post the first chapter to the Maze Runner fanfic I discussed earlier, I thought it would be a good way to ease back into things after my prolonged absence.  hope you all enjoy, please contact me if you have any specific requests for the series and let me know what you think!  ending is also a bit rushed, because i was super excited to get this posted for you guys, but i already have the second chapter in the works.

___

Word count: 2.1k!

Warnings : general TMR TWS; blood, slight gore, disturbing ideas / images, and depicted injuries.

Pronouns used: they/them – gender-neutral.

Prompt(s) used: “Who knows.  Maybe we’ve actually made it out of this hellhole after all.”

Pairing: TMR x GN!Reader.

A/N: just one; i imagined reader had a slight british accent when writing this, but feel free to think otherwise!!  this is also open to any skin tones, body sizes, etc.  i believe in inclusion to the fullest, and plan to make a few fanfics w/ a practising muslim reader in the future; lmk if you have any ideas! 

___

Staying out in the Maze was likely a dumb idea, especially with the ever-present thought of the fact that the Doors were bound to close at any minute pounding at the back of your head.

Nevertheless, your eyes were fixated on the sight in front of you, hands on your hips as e/c irises took in the thick vines that were rooted into the cracks lining the stone floor and stretched as far as the eye could see up the surrounding walls.  Your hand reached up to thread through h/c coloured tresses, thoughts bumbling about your head in an analytical manner. 

E/c coloured eyes moved after the beetle-blade, the metal, bug-like machine chittering as its red-light flicked across the wall it was scampering along before pausing.  Almost as though it sensed your presence, the thing’s head turned to you, camera staring right back at you as it focused on the stationary Glader.  You took a challenging stride toward it, surprised by the fact that it didn’t even move, the step bearing an experimental trial as well as it encouraged them onward.  You were quick to take advantage of the situation, leaping after the machine and closing the few metres of distance between you and the beetle blade in the process.  

Unfortunately, the sudden movement on your end had sent the beetle-blade shooting further along the wall, bee-lining it straight for a crack in the stone that it would just barely manage to fit into.  However, after months of trying to catch one of the blasted things, you’d come to learn a trick or two.  You kicked off the ground, clearly determined to finally get your hands on one of the rutting machines even if it meant having to risk the slight detour from heading back to the Glade.  

You swiftly scaled among the vines, arm shooting above head as your fingertips came to wrap around one of its legs just as the machine made to disappear.  Triumph shot through you as you were about to yank the thing back and disarm it, focused solely on the task at hand when a swift shout that consisted purely of  your name halted everything and sent them tumbling backwards when your single-handed grip on the vines jerked loose in surprise.

Your ankle, however, was more reluctant to follow, remaining  entangled amongst the vines, a sharp jerk sending jolts of pain through your leg the minute your back slammed against the hard, unforgiving floor.  The pain flared, your vision swaying as your eyes flicked to the shoes of the now approaching figure, clearly not pleased with the situation in the slightest as a frustrated and slightly pained groan drew past your lips.  Your thoughts of irritated agony echoed the emotion vividly as you practically felt  the bruises forming along your ankle, only to be interrupted by the same person who had caused you to lose your balance in the first place, a teasing lilt now lacing the newcomer’s voice, which you could easily pinpoint as Minho, 

“Man, I knew you liked me, but I didn’t realise you’d be throwing yourself at my feet the minute you heard me.  Not that I can blame you, I am pretty hot,”  Came his playful words, causing you to set your  jaw in an exasperated grimace before snapping a response. 

“Slim it, before it’s your ankle getting broken, shank,”  You growled, accent heavy and thick in their unpleasant predicament.  You took note of the airy laugh their running partner allowed to bubble past him before crouching beside you and gently unwinding the shrubbery the held them captive, leaving you to wince as your leg dropped to the floor alongside your other leg with a harsh ‘thump’.  “Bloody hell, that hurts like a fucking–,”

“Woah there, you think Newt’d approve of that kind of language?”  Minho snickered from somewhere behind you, the volume of his laughter only rising as you tilted your head back to shoot him the best glare you could muster from the ground.  After a few beats, he finally stifled the rest of his bemused sounds, eyes flicking from your haphazard position and back to your eyes that strained to keep pace with his own before he rolled his eyes and crouched down to offer you a hand up. 

You were rolling onto your stomach in an instant, gingerly twisting your aching leg a moment later with great care as to not let it snag in the chipped concrete floor before you flung your hand into Minho’s outstretched one while huffing a begrudging sigh.  His grip was cold and assuaging in contrast to your heated and unpleasant grasp from being pressed against the Maze’s floor, you noted in the fleeting moment in which your eyes met once more, only for you to bite back a bark of pain as you attempted to settle a sliver of weight onto your leg.  Had it not been for the Keeper’s firm grasp on you, you would have stumbled right back to the ground and likely been left there had he not shown up in the first place, but he offered a teasing scoff instead and slung your hand that was already in his own gloved one across his shoulders.  You obliged with his actions gratefully, almost gasping in relief as you felt the crushing weight alleviated from your injured leg, and began stumbling alongside Minho as he set a rather swift pace that you struggled to keep up with, considering you were only left with only one good leg.  

“Keep up or we might as well roll out a picnic blanket and wait for the Grievers to come and enjoy the quick meal we’d make for them,”  He managed after you stumbled for the nth time, his breathing clearly heavy, and the signs of strain obvious, but he didn’t so much as falter as he continued practically dragging you in the direction of the East Doors.  You couldn’t help but cast a partially distressed glance in his direction, feeling nothing but sorrow at the unnecessary weight you were forcing him to bear, but you knew that he would only tighten his grip on you if you tried to manage without him, so it was a losing game either way.  You cast a final glance his way, but he seemed to catch notice of your lingering stare in his peripheral vision, not even fully turning his head as his mahogany irises focused on the twisting corner wreathed with thickly woven vines just up ahead.  “What’re you lookin’ at, shank?”

You pushed off the ground with your good leg, springing forward and stumbling a few steps as Minho matched strides with you, huffing your response between focused breaths and sighs,  “Nothing.  Uh –,”  you panted softly, sweat beading on your forehead as you continued to manage single steps in the time Minho made three paced strides.  “ – anything planned for tonight?” 

The two of you rounded the corner and you could practically feel your running partner quaver in relief, his response breathless but audible as the two of you attempted to hurry through the homestretch. 

“A big plate of whatever crap Frypan has cooked and a warm shower to rest my weary bones.”

You were about to scoff a laugh the moment you cleared the Doors, already shouldering him with an eye roll and a witty quip soon to follow, when someone called out to you and Minho.  Both your heads turned in unison, your steady steps pausing as his arm fell to your waist to hold you steady, and a beaming smile instantly made way through your exasperated frown as you caught sight of Chuck ambling straight for you, Newt trotting not far behind.  

“What happened?  You guys were out for like, two hours longer than usual!”  The younger boy exclaimed as he approached, finally taking in the sight of you leaning against Minho and his arm around your form before he gagged and darted away.  “Get a room!”

You choked a surprised laugh at the suddenness of Chuck’s joke, watching his retreating figure stick out his tongue at Minho’s irritated expression, which made him look as though he was about to go after him had it not been for Newt’s prompt arrival.  You greeted him with a soft “hey” and the same smile that had been present for the short period of time you had to talk to Chuck, which the blonde seemed to eagerly return, nodding at Minho and taking in the closeness between the two of you.   

“You two had an eventful evening, huh?”  There was no malice in his voice, merely just an amusingly intrigued tone to his words as he gestured to Minho’s gentle hold on your waist, which made you fumble over your words momentarily, rapidly moving to explain the situation as your hands flicked subconsciously along with your rushed train of thought.

“Oh, uh, Minho distracted me whilst I was trying to grab a beetle-blade, and I ended up falling.  Blew my bloody ankle, it seems,”  You gesticulated to the obviously sparse pressure you were putting on your leg with a slightly nervous laugh as Newt cracked into a brighter grin.  

“It was your fault,”  Came Minho’s facetious remark before he cursed under his breath suddenly and knocked your shoulder.  “Since you’re too busy chattin’ up a storm, I’m gonna have to do the maps, aren’t I.” 

It was the second in command’s turn to scoff lightly  and wave a dismissive hand in the Asian’s direction. 

“Consider it an order.” 

“The things I do for you shanks.” 

“Yeah, a bloody hard life you have, shank,”  Newt mused, his smile never once faltering before his eyes finally strayed back to you.  “I’ll get Jack or Clint over, see what they can do in the meanwhile.  Probably just needs to keep off it for a while, take it easy.”  

“Ay, ay,”  He quipped, a lazy, two fingered salute his makeshift form of a farewell, quick to turn on his heel after his fingertips tapped your shoulder in a reassuring manner before he jogged off in the direction of the Map Room, leaving you and Newt to your devices.  

The two of you immediately fell into a bout of comfortable silence as he slowly edged toward you, taking Minho’s place at your side and slipping an arm across your shoulders before looking to you for silent confirmation to begin guiding you to the Medjack hut.  You nodded easily, instantly finding a compromised speed to limp alongside Newt, your own arm settled just under his shoulder blades as you both made your way across the Glade with the sun fully beginning to set behind you.  

“So,”  He began after a moment, doe eyes fixated wholly on you as you carefully navigated through the swishing grass.  Gladers were bustling about the expansive courtyard, some carrying plates loaded with food while Builders wrapped up the day, Gally’s shouting fit heard even from the distance you and Newt were as he ordered the others around.  “You ready for tomorrow?” 

Your head perked up in curiosity, brow furrowing as you called upon even the slightest memory to recall what was supposed to be taking place the next day, finding rather quickly that you wouldn’t be able to.  You offered te blonde a confused look as you continued to keep pace with him as best you could, only stumbling every few feet or so now that you were walking across the even terrain of the grass-laden field.  “What’s going on tomorrow?” 

The second in command chuckled, the sound more akin to the shard of a melody plucked out of a long-since-forgotten song, ancient and rich and beautiful as the golden rays of the dissipating light hit the panes of his face and sent the amber tones to his eyes sparking.  It was truly a peaceful moment, one that you found yourself eager to meld into as you laughed alongside him. 

“Greenie day.  I’m surprised you didn’t remember though, you’re usually more on top of it than I am.” 

You hummed.  It was odd, how something so big followed by the most looked forward to night of the month followed right after slipped your mind, but you figured that in combination to the surge of new Runners and having to train them alongside Minho had proved to be a bigger distraction than you had originally though.  So you shrugged, a content sigh tugging at your lips as you leaned into Newt with a nod.

“‘spose so.  Let’s just hope they aren’t another nutjob like Gally.”

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True words, true words indeed

okkk I'm just askinggg why do ppl who strictly use she/her get so mad when males make xmale reader ffcs....LIKE YOU HAVE YOUR OWN WHY ARE YOU COMPLAINING!!!

"Oh theres not enough female fics, and blah blah blah."

OK so if you follow my blog, (which is not much like at all-) you know that I go by they/him will read both mxm and mxn.b

I've seen this shit before like when females decide NOT to follow the rules of she/her she/they WOMAN DNI and just continue to read it like they don't check.

And then they start to ask why they get Blocked like hmmm I didn't follow the rules of someones post why did I get blocked??

So dude just follow ppls rules so we can avoid drama, if you wanna read it you have to be the right gender then, read whats for you, cuz if you dont specify the gender for sure so many females will pop up.

ALSO STOP PUTTING TITTIES OR PUSSY FOR GN SHIT.

Like they may either be afab or amab but not all ppl are happy to see the words princess, queen, or baby girl when it says gn.

PUT THE RIGHT GENDER OR PUT AFAB GN ITS NOT THAT HARD TO FIX YOUR DAMN TAGS!!!

...thats all♡♡

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:D

Omw to watch avatar, who knows might make a fic or two

Update: I want this movie to start already

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He's hot ya can't help it 🤷

Y/N : Damn, it’s cold.

Soap : Here, take my jacket, I’m not even that cold.

Y/N : Thanks, I’ll give it back tomorrow.

[Later At Night]

Y/N, aggressively inhaling in Soap’s jacket scent whilst curled up inside it : I’m not giving this back.