#i just freak out even thinking about asking for that kind of help
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GIRL I visited your blog because of the titles right it's very Tiktok-esque I have a random idea, not a req of reader and Isagi. Inspired by the #ihatemybf trend but like hear me out Imagine if reader is a prodigy in a different field and has a very questionable close friendship with Kaiser, honestly looks like you dk how you befriend him either, you look confused, Isagi is equally confused because you seem too good to be friends with Kaiser, and your first interaction is him giving you the "blink if you need help" gesture lmao
“𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚, 𝐚 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮”
a/n: LMAO THANK YOU, i think i am very brainrotted
and i’m not sure if i did this right, but i had a blast writing this lolll
you’re the kind of girl who makes everything look easy. prodigy-level smart, unintentionally intimidating, and somehow always five steps ahead of everyone else without even trying. you’re not just good at your field, you own it. like if intelligence had a face, it’d be yours in perfect lighting, doing a soft smirk as you cracked a code or revolutionized a new tech niche or cured the common cold just for fun.
so when isagi sees you laughing, genuinely laughing, with michael freaking kaiser, he does a double take so aggressive he almost sprains his neck.
“what the hell,” he mutters under his breath, blinking like maybe if he squints hard enough, the image will change and you’ll suddenly be talking to someone reasonable. or at least someone who isn’t kaiser, the human equivalent of an overconfident designer perfume commercial.
kaiser has his arm slung around your shoulder like he owns you, and you’re just kind of... allowing it? and smiling?? not in fear or pain???
isagi watches in real-time as you pause mid-conversation with kaiser, glance around casually, and then lock eyes with isagi across the room.
his reaction is instant. hand slowly lifts. index finger and thumb form the tiniest rectangle. he gives you a solemn blink twice if you need help gesture.
your eyes narrow.
and then you – you – have the audacity to respond with the most deadpan, “nah i’m good” expression. you even offer a thumbs up. like this situation is normal.
isagi’s whole brain is just static.
later, he corners you in the hallway with the concerned energy of someone who thinks their friend might’ve been lured into a pyramid scheme. “hey. uh. can i ask something?”
“sure,” you say, casually sipping an iced coffee and looking entirely too composed for someone who’d just willingly stood next to kaiser for 45 uninterrupted minutes.
“… how do you know kaiser?”
you blink. “honestly?” pause. “no idea.”
“what.”
“we just… started talking one day. he made fun of my thesis title. i insulted his hair. then we ended up at an art museum somehow and now he texts me daily with memes and cursed advice.”
isagi stares at you like you’ve just announced you’re legally married to a rat.
“you don’t even like soccer.”
“i don’t,” you nod, perfectly serene. “but he said i have main character energy and asked if i wanted to do a dramatic slow-mo walk with him to annoy his rival. i respect that kind of commitment.”
“… that was me, wasn’t it.”
“yup.”
there is a long pause. isagi looks at the floor like he’s questioning every decision he’s ever made.
“… so like. are you guys… dating or…?”
you wrinkle your nose, immediately offended. “ew. no. god, no.”
a beat.
“… why not?”
you shoot him a curious glance, like you’re just noticing him for the first time. “you jealous?”
“what– no– i just– i mean– you’re way too normal for him–”
“then maybe you should do something about it, yoichi.”
and then you walk off. sipping your coffee. smiling like you didn’t just wreck his internal logic with a casual flirt and a knowing smirk.
in the distance, kaiser watches with the proud grin of a man who knew exactly what he was doing when he introduced you two.
© 𝐤��𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk x reader#isagi yoichi#yoichi isagi#kaiser michael#michael kaiser#isagi yoichi x reader#yoichi isagi x reader#kaiser michael x reader#michael kaiser x reader#mama a jealous isagi behind you
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Followed you for your phenomenal TF writing, staying for unintentional education. I love Flatline even more now, thank you
Unintentional education… I’m almost afraid to ask…

All At Once Pt 2
Flatline x Reader
• Watching the mech who’d introduced himself as Flatline add another blanket to the padded nest he’s made out of a bit of foam, you’re pretty sure he thinks you’re a stray cat he’s adopted. He’d set you out a big dish of water and a box of saltines near the nest and he turns to look at you now, offering you a huge servo. Playing along, you lay your palm on his servo and let him pull you to your feet and guide you to the nest. “You should be comfortable here,” he says, that voice soothing. Biting the inside of your lip, you should probably feel bad about going along with being his alien cat, but free food, room and board? Being fussed over and pampered? What’s so wrong with that?
• What is he going to do with you? Watching you settle in the middle of the bedding and just smile sweetly up at him, he has to admit that you’re adorable. Though since you’d trusted Swindle, your survival instincts are questionable and if he turns you loose, you probably will end up a frag toy. Had distracted you so he wouldn’t have to answer that particular question by carrying you into Medbay and scanning you. Then showing you the image on the screen with the readouts to make you light up asking questions. If he takes you and drops you off on the outskirts of a human town, maybe Swindle won’t just pick you up again. Or maybe he will.
• Sitting crosslegged as he moves about what you’re sure is an alien hospital, you watch him. “Are you a doctor?” You ask and he startles like he’d forgotten you were there. ‘Ah, yes. I’m a medic,’ he murmurs, opening a weird metal box and removing a tray of glass vials. As you watch, he slots them one at a time into a tray. He never would clarify what a frag toy was, but you can guess. And your guess? Kind of horrifying. Making you thankful he interfered. Drawing your legs against yourself, you wrap your arms around them. “Thank you. For saving me back there.”
• Servos stilling before he sets a vial into its spot, he glances at you. You’re still smiling and he wonders if you’ve figured out what Swindle was planning to do with you or if you just mean saving you from the crowd pawing at you. “You’re safe here,” he mutters, clearing his vents tiredly. Didn’t just rescue you only to let Swindle get ahold of you again. And he stiffens when his door opens, processor blanking as Shockwave of all mechs comes in, servos of his only hand wrapped around a human so he’s carrying them like a glass of engex as they scream incoherently.
• Wincing when the person in the purple mech’s hand only stops screaming long enough to suck in a breath to scream some more, you shiver. They’re not having a fun day, you decide. “You will reverse my shadowplay,” the mech snarls, gesturing with the cannon at the end of his other arm and Flatline shifts slightly. Puts himself between this alien and you. And you feel awful for the person being held like a beer, because they’re freaked all the way out. ‘I’m not a mnemosurgeon,’ Flatline says, servos flexing slightly. ‘That’s not how you should hold a human, their ribs are delicate.’
• So he remembers that he’s been a victim of Shadowplay? Or did someone let it slip? Flatline isn’t sure, but the screaming human is starting to distress him. Especially when they notice you and start screaming at you for help and you shoot him an anxious look. Because this is going to end up stressing you and stress isn’t healthy for humans. ‘I would do it myself, but operating on my own processor is problematic,’ Shockwave growls and Flatline stares. Because that’s an understatement. Not that the unhinged scientist trying it would surprise him. “I’d need to research the procedure,” he hedges, because for Shockwave to be as high functioning as he is, he doubts whoever did this bothered to take the time to completely strip the memories. Too much risk of leaving a useful asset a raving lunatic. Which means they’re likely just buried behind failsafes and firewalls. Recoverable and his duty is to help if he can. He took an oath he’s honor bound to uphold. “Can you please put the human down before their heart gives out and we’ll do some scans?” And Shockwave’s head tips to stare at the struggling human, antenna going back. Like it hadn’t occurred to him that he might scare them to death. Literally. Who gave him a human?
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angst and fluff about main toons (separate) was trying to find reader after the run ended and they saw toons was freaking out about something and main toons (separate) get confused so they try to get through to them to know why they are freaking out until they saw reader Body in Goob arms and get them in horror so they ask Goob what happened to reader so Goob explained that reader lost their leg and they was closer to die by twisted pebble but lucky that he was there to save reader in right time before twisted pebble can kill them and now reader was unconscious after what happened because blood loss.
after what happened…. Main toons (separate) are now take care reader because reader can’t walk without their two legs and reader was not allowed go runs anymore because after what happened… they can’t lost reader.. they just can’t..
I know it’s was lot but I can’t help myself but to write it because I can’t stop thinking about idea from my mind and it’s happened lot if I don’t think first so I hope you like this question that I had.
So tl;dr: What if you were paralyzed? One leg short, basically.
Broken Branch
For this scenario, you're using crutches because why not. And this whole scenario takes place maybe a month after you lost your legs since their reactions would be more or less the same as end of abuse, just without the staff abuse. Protective/defensive/passive, etc.
Assuming you're in a relationship.
Doesn't feature Holiday Toons.
================================================
Astro

"O-Oh, maybe you shouldn't come on this run with us..."
He's kind of stressed, you could say. Which is fair, considering the circumstances. His best friend is keeping something from him; his main place of employment fired him while he was still in the building and now the love of his life is paralyzed for life.
The thing is, his main schedule doesn't change much. Sure, you can't go on runs with him anymore even if you for some reason insist you can as an extractor. He refuses to let you, obviously but other than that, his life outside the Ichor operation hasn't changed much.
Astro still occasionally takes naps with you; you're still moving at the same pace he is both literally and mentally and your relationship hasn't changed as a result of the incident. All things considered, things are weirdly normal for him. For you?
It might be depressing for you, to which he can understand. You can't move at the same pace you used to and can't do the same things you used to. Assuming you still want to do something that has you constantly active, he'll refer you to Yatta.
...Wait, maybe he shouldn't do that.
Nothing really comes to mind in terms of keeping you active, which probably isn't surprising considering his nature and... hobbies. Book club might be a good substitute for you! He typically goes there occasionally, so it might work for you too if you haven't been there already!
If that doesn't work for you, he's out of options. The best he can do for you is just refer you to books without the book club. If that somehow works for you, reading it out loud is usually enough for him to fall asleep. It's a nice way to unwind.
Dandy

"If it isn't my favorite assistant!"
"And your only assistant."
"Still!"
This dude is the only person corrupted by capitalism in a major way in this game. At least other shopkeepers don't get pissed when toons don't pay them, this dude does. You can bet your sweet bippy that he's going to somehow someway put you to work.
Obviously, he's not heartless. The first few weeks after you were paralyzed he was panicking on how to deal with the situation. Having a secret to keep, a shop to run and now a partner who can't run by themselves or at all is very much problematic and stressful. That being said, Dandy is trying his best.
That being said, you're his new shop assistant now! Your job sometimes is literally just 'Stay there and look cute, hehe!' It's a hardworking job! That being said, if he legitimately needs something he'll ask you to get something at your own pace. It's mostly when he's restocking shelves or stock at his elevator shop.
He often makes comments to other toons about how you're unable to do some things that other toons may rely on you for. For example, if you were really strong before and were able to move things around easily, he would make comments like: "Yep, wish someone was able to help with that!" Or "Sorry, friend. I'm afraid they can't help you with that with uh... their condition."
He's way, way more patient with you than he was before. When before he may have gotten slightly frustrated when you fumbled on something or made a mistake, he would let out a sigh and just ask you not to do something like that again. Now, he doesn't even make a peep when that happens. He just shrugs, fixes whatever was messed up and move on without so much as a twitch in his smile.
If you even so much as suggest about going on a run, he just laughs and attempts to shift the conversation to something else. Hey, have you seen how cute Pebble is acting right now? Hey, look at this lost episode he found! He's terrified of you going on a run in your condition and actively discourages you from thinking about it. If for some insane reason you decide to go anyway against his perfectly reasonable advice, conveniently his shops closed!
Because he's going on the run with you. With an extra surplus of healing items!
Shelly

"Would you like to... read about dinosaurs...?"
Shelly's not really the toon with a plan. She doesn't have a perfect to your predicament (to be fair all the toons don't either) so she's just constantly suggesting listening to facts about dinosaurs with the occasional mix-up of sewing.
She tries, she really does. She just isn't that creative when it comes to you, at least she doesn't think so. She's open to hobbies so things that you may be interested in may be something she's interested in. In that scenario, she's constantly suggesting that instead. Of course she'll put a dino spin on it, but it's still there!
Tragically, she goes too fast for you sometimes. I imagine that she often runs ahead of you whenever she's excited to do activities mentioned previously. She actively tries to not do that but sometimes she can't. It's not too big of an issue, you wouldn't think but maybe you would.
Sometimes, she likes to just rest with you. It reminds her that someone is really counting on her and not just constantly ignoring her or just barely acknowledging her existence. She takes it as her own moment to wind down and the same goes for you, hopefully. It's those times in which she admits to things she wouldn't otherwise, like how she sometimes hates how she's ignored all the time.
She's loud about how she doesn't like how some people ask you to do things that you likely won't be able to do, like go and run to get something for them or lifting something for them. It's those moments where Shelly outright calls them out loud and proud. Her protectiveness over you shows no bounds when it comes to those situations.
Sprout

"You can come help me and Cosmo bake later... if you want."
Two guesses on what he would do in this scenario.
If you chose baking, yeah but that's not all it's limited to. Things that Cosmo is dragged into typically means that Sprout isn't far behind. More than likely, you're dragged into those too like Teagen's tea party or just generally hanging out. It's fun, they think.
He tries to give you the space you need and the company you want whenever you need it. Especially in this condition where you may want some time to cope alone or to cope with someone you majorly trust with your life. Speaking of; cupcakes can't heal this. Kind of weird how that works.
He tries to divert your attention to other things like something Cosmo baked that day or sometimes letting you tug on his scarf when you're feeling icky or vent when you're feeling sickly. He's trying to do a lot for you for one real reason: He feels guilty.
I've already said this in the phobia thing, but Sprout feels extremely guilty that he let himself let his guard down long enough for you of all people to get majorly negatively affected by all of this. Of course, it's not his fault and you should make sure to remind him of that.
He stresses over the things that you may honestly find trivial. Did you get your daily intake of water today? Do you have everything you need? You do, obviously but it's kind of funny in some ways to see him stress over the things you already have handled. And exhausting at the same time, but maybe you don't mention that.
I don't need to say this, but he constantly checks up on you. Mostly to see how you're doing mentally because he knows physical danger is unlikely, but he just needs to know you're okay. Your important to him, he doesn't want to lose you.
Vee

"And featuring our next contestant...!"
Vee just flat out treats you like everyone else she would. Well, more specifically she treats you the exact same way she did before you had a leg go away. Her reasoning behind that is that it might get overwhelming for you to be treated differently than you did just because you lost a leg. This obviously can vary depending on who you are, but it's a the approach she goes with. At least as of current.
She flat out says no on you going on runs with everyone else. "Hey, can I come with-"
"No."
"...But-"
"No."
She constantly invites you to her gameshows, unsurprisingly. 50% because she wants to take your mind off of the missing part of you and the other 50% to keep an eye on you and making sure you're okay. Both mentally and physically and boy does she make sure you're okay mentally.
Holes in the wall have been made when technology threw seafood through a wall, leaving tissue boxes in tears. Truly a tragic story when you figure out why the sea food was thrown into/through the wall. So many messes to clean up.
Either way, Vee constantly reminds you to let you know if you need anything at all. Except for water for obvious reasons, she legitimately went on a run just to grab a book that was in the library inhabited by Twisteds because she couldn't find one that was in the local library in the Gardenview Center. She didn't tell you about it, likely leaving you confused on why she took so long getting a book.
She tries to be there for you, especially if/when you're crying about the obvious, she's there. Not exactly the best at saying the right things, but it's often good enough that you can get the message in what she's trying to say. She genuinely tries to make you feel better by joking or by taking your mind off it in general. Not the best, but she tries.
She often plays music through her speakers (that are in her head trust) that's often calm music to help you unwind. She does this even before the incident, but she does it a lot more because obviously. She doesn't mind, it helps her unwind too. Gives her time to think, and give you time to feel calm. Collectively, it gives you both time to enjoy each other's company.
#dandys world x reader#dandy's world#dandys world#dandy's world x reader#Dandys world Vee x reader#Dandys world Dandy x reader#Dandys world Shelly x reader#Dandys world Sprout x reader#Dandys world Astro x reader#Casually getting traumatized.#Seriously though im only going to start accepting fluff requests from here on out. I'm finding fluff more fun to write than traumatization.
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CAUGHT IN A LIE – MATT STURNIOLO
pairing: heartthrob!matt x fem!reader synopsis: y/n was forced to attend a fraternity party after losing a bet to her friend. she was awkward—never quite sure how to handle parties like this. when a guy (who clearly couldn’t take a hint) kept flirting with her, she found herself unable to say no. matt, thinking he was doing her a favor, stepped in and claimed they were dating. but word spread fast around the university, leaving them no choice but to keep up the lie. warnings: lowercase intended, angst, alcohol, mentions of sex
masterlist | series masterlist
THREE: DEAL
“WHAT?” evelyn’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and sudden, like a knife slicing through thick air. her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes went comically wide, her face twisting in exaggerated disbelief. she stared at me like i’d just confessed to robbing a bank or adopting a stray raccoon or announcing i was moving to a remote island to live among goats. the kind of look someone gives you when they’re convinced your brain has temporarily short-circuited. pure shock, painted all over her face.
i collapsed onto her bed like i’d been hit by a truck full of emotional whiplash, as if all the air had been sucked out of me, the weight of everything finally crashing down in one heavy, overwhelming wave. my heart hadn’t stopped racing since it happened—like it hadn’t quite caught up to the absurdity of what my life had suddenly turned into. like i was the unwilling star of some bizarre, bootleg teen rom-com where i, of all people, was the reluctant protagonist. this wasn’t me. this wasn’t even close to being me. i was background noise. a human parentheses.
i dragged my hands down my face, desperately trying to shove my racing thoughts back in place, and mumbled through my fingers, “what am i supposed to do, eve? i don’t even know what to think anymore. should i say yes? should i say no? i’m seriously losing it over here.”
evelyn blinked slowly. like, full-on buffering mode. her brain was the spinning rainbow wheel of death. she stared at me for a beat, then another, until her jaw dropped again, even further this time. “wait—wait, wait, wait. let me make sure i’m hearing this right. matt sturniolo—you mean the matt sturniolo? the one with the stupidly perfect hair and a fan club practically built in? he asked you to be his fake girlfriend?”
“yes!” i cried out, burying my face into the nearest blanket like it might somehow muffle the madness of reality. “and i have absolutely no idea what to do! do i just... agree? like, ‘sure, cool, let’s casually fake date in front of half the school’? eve, this is insane. i’m so out of my depth here, i might as well be drowning. with bricks in my pockets.”
i rolled over, flinging my arms dramatically across her pillow like it might absorb the swirling panic currently hijacking my nervous system. everything was a mess. thoughts and worries spun around like a glitter tornado—chaotic and sparkly and entirely unhelpful. no clear answers. just noise.
evelyn sat up like she was about to lead a battle strategy meeting. she started ticking things off on her fingers like we were planning a school fundraiser, not negotiating the terms of a fake relationship with someone who basically walked around like he was the main character. “okay, let’s start with the pros. if you say yes, you get to hang out with matt freaking sturniolo. you know, the guy who makes the hallway feel like a runway every time he walks through it. people will notice you. and not in the bad way. you’ll actually exist to the rest of the student body.”
i groaned in response, rolling my eyes so hard it could’ve been considered a workout. i sank deeper into the pillow like it might swallow me whole and save me from this conversation.
“plus,” she continued, completely ignoring my spiraling, “it might help you get out of your shell. no offense, but you’ve been living in full-blown social invisibility mode for, like, forever. maybe this is the universe’s weird way of giving you a push. a weird, hot, slightly chaotic push.”
i just stared at the ceiling, unblinking. if i didn’t move, maybe time would pause. maybe the laws of reality would glitch and rewind thirty-six hours.
“cons,” evelyn said, switching gears like we were flipping through a menu. “people will talk. some of them are going to be... not nice. jealous girls, gossipy types, the whole high school greek chorus. and let’s be real, you don’t exactly thrive under scrutiny. you might spontaneously combust.”
i nodded faintly, still staring upward, hoping the ceiling would open up and swallow me whole or at least hand me a cosmic cue card.
“but then again,” she added, voice softening a little, “maybe being overwhelmed is just the first step to being brave.”
i didn’t respond. just sighed again, long and slow. the kind of sigh that said, i did not sign up for this timeline.
“so... what do i do?” my voice was small now, almost fragile. i hated how vulnerable it sounded, like i was afraid to hear the answer.
evelyn looked at me gently, that half-smile she gets when she’s trying to stay positive for my sake, when she knows i’m about to make a big decision and she wants to be supportive, no matter what. “it’s your decision. i can’t tell you what’s right. but whatever you choose? i’ll back you up. completely.”
“you’re not helping,” i muttered, getting up and dragging myself out of her room like the floor had turned to quicksand.
i collapsed onto my own bed, and the weight of my body felt ten times heavier than usual. i stared at the ceiling again. still no divine intervention. rude.
yeah, sure, maybe this whole fake relationship thing would help me break out of my shell. maybe i’d finally get to stop being the quiet girl in the corner who no one noticed unless i dropped something. but... pretending to be someone’s girlfriend, even if it was fake, still felt like lying. and i was terrible at lying. i overthink everything. i trip over my words when i get emotional. i panic-text friends to double-check if “haha” sounds too passive-aggressive.
and matt?
matt was... something else. charming. infuriatingly so. that easy, offhand charm that made you feel like the most important person in the world—even when he wasn’t trying. especially when he wasn’t trying. and me? i was a footnote. someone you wouldn’t notice unless i spilled iced coffee on your shoes or accidentally walked into a pole.
being his fake girlfriend meant people would start watching. start talking. and worse... what if i started liking it? what if i actually caught feelings?
i sat up suddenly, as if the thought itself was too much to lie down with. the panic was back. but this time it had backup.
“eve?” i shouted, my voice echoing in the quiet of my room.
“yeah?” she called back from the other room, her voice muffled but still clear enough to hear.
“would you do it?”
there was a pause. long enough to make me wonder if she was really thinking it through or just dramatically sipping water for effect.
“probably,” she finally replied, like it was the most casual thing in the world.
i groaned and wandered back to her room like a zombie who had just given up on trying to make sense of anything.
“look who’s back,” she smirked, still glued to her phone.
“oh, shut up.” i plopped down beside her, exasperated. “why would you do it?”
she shrugged like it was no big deal. “i don’t know. it sounds fun. plus, matt sturniolo is hot.”
“you–!” i flailed a little, then flopped back onto her bed again. “you’re unreal.”
she just grinned, kicking her feet casually like we weren’t discussing the fate of my entire social existence.
and the worst part?
the worst part was that i was starting to consider it. seriously.
“so?” matt asked, sitting across from me at the same little cafe where this whole chaos had started, his eyes twinkling with the kind of confidence that only comes from someone who knows exactly how to get under your skin.
i took a deep breath. a long, shaky one. a breath that didn’t seem to calm my racing heart in the slightest. “i’ll do it. but there have to be rules.”
his lips curled into that annoyingly charming smirk. “rules?”
i nodded, my hands trembling slightly. “serious ones. non-negotiable.”
“like what? no falling in love?” he teased, leaning forward like this was all some game.
i gave him a look, one eyebrow raised. “i’m serious.”
“okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “hit me.”
i reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper—written at 3 a.m., full of crossed-out lines, overthinking, and dramatic bullet points. “these are just... guidelines.”
he raised an eyebrow. “you made a list?”
“you asked me to fake date you. this is the least weird part of the entire situation.”
he chuckled, and i hated how nice it sounded. warm and easy, like fresh laundry right out of the dryer.
“rule one,” i said, steadying my voice, “no kissing. unless it’s absolutely necessary. like, cinematic, life-or-death kind of necessary.”
“so if someone’s dying and a kiss is the only cure, i’m allowed?” he grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much.
“exactly. short of that, keep your lips to yourself.”
“understood. high-stakes kissing only. very niche.”
“rule two: no unnecessary touching. unless we’re in public and someone’s watching—and even then, it better be subtle. i don’t want forehead kisses or hand-holding or whatever you think passes as ‘romantic.’”
“subtle. got it. can i put my arm around you?”
“you get one arm. use it sparingly.”
he grinned wider. “i’ll treasure it.”
“rule three,” i continued, “no flirting over text. no pet names. no heart emojis.”
he blinked. “not even ironically?”
“especially not ironically.”
he leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table. “you’re really going all in, huh?”
“because this is serious. people are going to assume things. i just... i need boundaries.”
he looked at me for a moment, and for once, he wasn’t smiling. he was just... watching me. like he was really listening.
“okay,” he said softly. “boundaries. i get it.”
i looked down at the table, then back up at him. “this is so weird.”
“weird’s not always bad,” he said, his voice calm, reassuring. “sometimes weird turns into something cool.”
i rolled my eyes, but a reluctant smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “don’t make this a thing.”
“what thing?”
“that,” i gestured. “the charm thing. turn it off.”
he leaned back with a smug little shrug. “sorry. it’s automatic.”
i groaned, sliding the list across the table toward him. “just read the rest of the rules.”
“yes, ma’am,” he said, mock-saluting me as he unfolded the paper like it was a sacred text.
and as i watched him read, i still didn’t know if this was the best idea or the worst.
but for the first time in a long time?
i kinda wanted to find out.
matt unfolded the paper like it was some ancient scroll, eyebrows raised as he skimmed the dramatic bullet points and chaotic half-crossed-out ideas. his eyes flicked across the page, and every so often his lips twitched like he was trying very hard not to laugh.
“you really wrote ‘no smirking like that’ as a rule?” he asked, tapping the margin with a fingertip.
i snatched the paper back. “you’re breaking it right now.”
“i’m not smirking,” he said, smirking. “i’m smiling. big difference.”
i glared at him. he just raised his eyebrows, like see? i’m adorable and technically innocent.
ugh.
“fine. that one’s unofficial,” i muttered, folding the list again and jamming it into my pocket. “but i’m watching you.”
“oh no,” he said, mock-serious, “not the watching. anything but that.”
i hated how light he made everything feel. like this was just a casual hangout instead of the start of what could become the most emotionally confusing thing i’d ever willingly walked into. like he wasn’t a walking social spotlight and i wasn’t about to step into it like a deer on the world’s biggest stage.
“so,” he said, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. “now what?”
i blinked. “what do you mean, now what?”
“i mean,” he shrugged, leaning back in his chair like this was no big deal, “are we telling people? are we doing a dramatic cafeteria reveal? posting a soft-launch photo dump? what’s the play here?”
my stomach turned. “you want to tell people?”
he tilted his head, considering. “well, the whole point is for people to think we’re dating, right? can’t exactly do that if we’re hiding in corners and pretending to be allergic to each other in public.”
i winced. he had a point. a gross, logical, painfully accurate point.
“i don’t know,” i muttered, fidgeting with the edge of my sleeve. “i guess... i didn’t think that far ahead. i was too busy panicking.”
he grinned. “cute.”
“don’t call me cute.”
“noted.”
he paused, “but also, you’re cute.”
i smacked my forehead against the table. he laughed. loudly. unapologetically.
“i hate you,” i mumbled, voice muffled against the wood.
“no you don’t.”
and god help me, he was right.
wc: 3.4k author's note: HELP I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO POST THE NEW PART sorry for posting late </3 dividers: @toastray
taglist: @courta13 @tits4matt @backwardshatnick @emely9274 @mattspillowprincess @oopsiedaisydeer
© HEARTS4STURN
#⚝ hearts4sturn fanfic#⚝ hearts4sturn caught in a lie#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo tumblr#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo series#matt sturniolo slowburn#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#mattsturniolo#chratt#chris sturniolo edit
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This is an oddly specific request but maybe your car breaks down and you call him freaking out and he comes and helps/takes care of you? Like really fluffy and sweet. Auston or Will? Congrats on 250 recently, your writing is so good!
I love oddly specific requests!!! Also I chose Auston because I did get quite a lot of Willy requests and wanted to switch it up a little and thank you for the congrats!! 😌
Car Troubles – Auston Matthews
It started with a flicker just as you were pulling out of the grocery store parking lot. A light on the dashboard blinked once, then disappeared like it had never been there.
At first you thought it was your eyes playing tricks on you. Maybe the sun reflected in the display weird, or you simply imagined it.
But then, half a block later, the steering started to feel off.
You gripped the wheel harder, feeling the sudden heaviness in your arms as it resisted your turns.
A strange tightness settled into your chest, so you eased off the gas and coasted for a moment, blinking rapidly at the dash.
A couple more warning lights flashed. First the battery, then the oil symbol, then some other one you had never seen before and this time they stayed on.
You took a slow breath, trying not to overreact. Cars had weir glitches sometimes. Maybe it was just a sensor acting up.
You had small issues with the car before but nothing like this.
Half a block later the air conditioning cut out. The dash lights dimmed and then the engine gave a quiet stutter and died.
Your car rolled forward silently, everything in the cabin eerily quiet.
You managed to steer it to the shoulder, a small stretch of gravel between the road and a weed-choked fence. It was barely enough room, but at least you were out of traffic.
Throwing the car in park, you stared at the wheel, gripping it tight like it would help or somehow turn the car back on.
The silence came next. You were still sitting there, no music, no engine, no AC, the car slowly heating in the Arizonian sun.
It was just your breathing and the low whoosh of other cars going past.
The quiet didn’t feel peaceful, it felt wrong. Like something essential had just stopped.
You turned the key again. Nothing.
No click. No rumble. No sign of life.
Your stomach dropped, and that was when the first wave of panic rolled in. A sharp, bitter wave that made your hands go clammy and your breath catch in your throat.
You grabbed your phone with trembling fingers and instinctively searched for Auston´s contact. You didn’t think about it or weighted you options.
He was your person. The first one you needed.
He answered quickly. “Hey babe!”
“My car died,” you said, barely managing to keep your voice steady. “It just stopped completely. I don’t know what happened, I pulled over, but it won’t even turn back on,” you rambled.
There was a pause on the line, but it wasn’t the bad kind. He was thinking.
“Where are you right now?” he asked, voice already shifting into that calm-control mode.
You gave him the cross street and a rough idea of where you had pulled over. “I´m on my way,” he said. “Fifteen minutes tops.”
“Okay,” you breathed.
“Are you safe? Did you lock the doors?” he checked. “Yeah.”
“Okay good, I´m coming. Try to stay calm, okay?”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Okay.”
--------------
The next ten minutes felt like thirty.
You sat rigid in your seat, arms crossed, eyes flicking between the rearview mirror and the side of the road, watching cars rush by too fast and too close. Every little noise made you flinch and the heat was slowly becoming unbearable even though you had opened the passenger door to let fresh air in.
You kept trying the key again, like maybe the car would magically wake up and pretend nothing happened.
It didn’t.
You tried googling possible causes. Battery, alternator, starter, but the more articles you opened the more overwhelmed you got and the more that creeping feeling of helplessness returned.
You weren’t used to being helpless. You were used to figuring things out on your own. Handling it. Pushing through. But now you were just stuck in a dead car on the side of the road.
And then Auston´s familiar car finally pulled up behind you.
You saw it in the rearview and immediately let out a breath. The tension in your shoulders started to melt and the second he stepped out of his Lamborghini.
He didn’t rush, but he didn’t waste time either. His stride was calm but purposeful. When he got to your window, you opened the door and saw the concern on his face.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, crouching down so you were at eye level.
You nodded, eyes suddenly burning. “I think so. I don’t know what happened.”
“Hey,” he said, reaching for your hand, cupping the side of your face with the other one gently. “It´s okay, I´m here now.”
That was it. That was all it took for you to push out of the car and before he could say anything else, wrap yourself around his body.
You practically collapsed into him.
Your forehead smashed against his chest and his arm immediately came around your back. It was tight and warm and comforting.
His hands rubbed slow circles along your spine and he placed sift kisses to your head as you buried your face in his shirt. “Shh,” he murmured against your hair. “You´re okay. You´re safe. I´ve got you.”
You didn’t cry exactly, but your eyes welled up and your breathing hitched in that quiet, overwhelmed kind of way.
You weren’t even sure if it was because of the car anymore or if everything just came crashing down on you.
How helpless you had felt. How much better you felt now that he was here.
“Go sit in my car, okay? the AC is on and there´s a water bottle for you in the cupholder.”
You nodded.
He ended up helping you into the passenger seat of the expensive vehicle. You still hadn’t gotten used to sitting it even after regularly driving in it since the beginning of summer.
Auston closed the door gently and you thought he would go and check on your car, but he was walking around to the other side. Once he slid in, he handed you the water and took your hand, interlinking your fingers.
“Let´s sit for a minute,” he said. “Catch your breath, then I´ll check on the car, okay?”
You nodded again.
-----------
Ten minutes later, he was crouched in front of your car with the hood up. You knew he had probably no idea what he was looking at, he was a hockey player not a mechanic, but you still appreciated him trying to check what he could.
You sat in his car watching him, that tight knot in your chest loosening a little more every time you saw the care in his movements.
When he came back, he slid into the driver´s seat and gave your knee a squeeze.
“Is it bad?” you asked even though you knew he probably didn’t know.
He shrugged. “With my very limited knowledge of cars I think it´s not the end of the world. I´ll call a tow truck and we´ll get it to a shop.”
You felt yourself slump back in the seat. “I hate not knowing what to do.”
“That´s why you have me in these situations,” he said simply. “You don’t have to know what to do all the time. Especially, not when I´m around.”
He called the tow company shortly after, gave them your information and stayed calm thought the whole thing, even when the estimated wait time was longer than expected.
“They said it will be about 45 minutes,” he said, setting his phone down. “I got some snacks in the back if you want beef jerky or a protein bar.”
You looked at him, one brow raised.
“What, I get hungry after training.” You smiled a little at that and he looked smug like that had been his goal.
-------------
The next half hour passed in quiet comfort. You curled up in the passenger seat with your legs pulled under you. Auston leaned his seat back a little, talking about summer training and about how Clayton almost took himself out during their skating session this morning and then blamed the ice.
“You should have seen his face when everyone started laughing. He´s gonna get chirped forever.”
You laughed, for real this time, and Auston´s eyes softened. “Look at you feeling better already,” he said, gently brushing his fingers across the back of your hand.
-------------
When the tow truck finally arrived, Auston got out and handled everything. Talked to the driver, made sure the guy knew where to take it, stayed right next to the car as it was loaded up.
You watched from the front seat, feeling both exhausted and incredibly grateful.
By the time he got back in the car, the sky had started turning gold.
It had been over an hour and a half since you first broke down.
You still had no idea what the repair would cost or how long you would be without a car, but you weren’t alone.
#auston matthews#toronto maple leafs#auston matthews imagine#toronto maple leafs imagine#auston matthews x reader#nhl imagine
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I had the random thought of "What if Stan gets turned into a god". Like, imagine, he is on a festival and is just snatching wallets here and there. He just stole the wallet of some random guy and before he can blink the guy grabs him and grins and tells him "You are IT", like as if they played catch. Then he laughs and puffs out of existence and suddenly Stan is a higher being.
Oh this is a fun one. let me think.
Hmm. Hmmmmm. Hmmmmmm.
Stan, unknowingly (as he usually does) becomes a participating member in a ceremony to swap out old gods for new ones. Several gods dance and frolic in the festival, each with their own little trial to pass on their godhood. Most of the time no one passes, and the gods return to wherever they came from, to spend another millennia or so until its time for them to put their test out again.
So Stan, by successfully pick pocketing this god, inherits their godhood, freeing them to go back to regular life or disappear forever? Who knows, they were a god and now they're not, they're free to do what they want.
And now Stan's a god! Except as a technically brand new god, he's got to make a name for himself. He doesn't inherit the old gods stuff, just proved through his stealing that he's a trickster god of some kind.
There is no one to tell him what he's doing, he's just getting slammed with being able to slightly bend reality, teleport around, walk through peoples dreams, and always know where crimes going on. Lets say this is year fiveish of being on his own, he spends the next five years muddling along, not supper powerful as a new god of crime, but he's getting there! Sort of figured out he's a god, his specialty is crime, stealing, traveling, tricks, the works. He's got a few followers (fellow criminals), but this is hard! He's builiding his god brand, and thats kind of tricky when you can't just blurt out that your a god to people, they have to figure it out on their own.
Then Ford calls him, not through a postcard (although he is writing one) but through a prayer. Ford is, although not aware of it, Stan's first follower. Sure he's mad and hasn't talked to Stan in years, but he's got a token of Stan on him at all times (photo), always thinks about him (waiting for sign of contact), always sending Stan power by thinking Stan's doing great out in the wide world.
Time for Stan to do some divine intervention (He still drives his car there, no sense in freaking Ford out after all)
Gets to Fords house and it sets off all his signals about being a temple to another god (Bill), is a little hurt, but its not like Ford knew Stan became a god a few years ago. Maybe he's back to practicing?
Knocks on the door and nope! Thats some other godly guy with his little grubby hands all over Ford's brain.
OkOKOK. Stan. Stan can fix this! Ford must want help with this guy! Stan will just snip him loose somehow, fix him up! It'll be fine!
Its not fine, Stan can't directly interfere with mortal affairs like this, he's gotta figure out a way to boot Bill by getting Ford to ask him for help, or finding a champion. Follows Ford to his basement, not even really paying attention to what he's saying, and oh god what is this thing in the basement?
OKOKOK. Not a godly guy, this is a demon and a demon portal. Stan can-he can work with this. Its even easier actually! Gods and demons fight each other all the time, just gotta... do something.
He's five years old, godly speaking, he has no idea what he's doing.
Ford whirls around to find Stan's hand halfway missing because Stan stuck it into another layer of reality and was trying to yank Bill's control out of Fords brain. They both freeze, Ford feels something from Stan messing around, and totally freaks out. What is this? What is Stan doing? Where is his hand? How long have you been working with Bill! How could you!
Stan is very confused right up until Ford tackles him. They fight, Ford furious and hurt, Stan confused and trying to yell that this is all a misunderstanding! If Ford could just let him explain! The two of them wrestle, portal turns on, Stan gets branded.
It hurts, a lot. Stan's a god, but he's not super powerful, and maybe the brand is some kind of ward? Something to prevents higher beings from touching it? Prevents Bill from meddling with the controls, and thats why he needs Ford to do it willingly?
So Stan gets this anti higher being ward burned into his higher being body, and totally glitches out. He's screaming, Fords screaming, watching something with his brothers face glitch and fritz. Sort of collapses and glitches, limbs disappearing and reappearing and turning into shadow and not. Ford realizes the portals on, shuts it off, then scrambles to do something about the thing turning into stardust on the basement floor. Stan's not dying, because this thing can't kill a god its just the most painful thing he's ever experienced ever.
Not sure where to take it from there. Maybe the brand's power starts to fade after Ford ties him up? Maybe he melts into a godly puddle and Ford puts him in a jar? Maybe he powers through the brand but he's he's still glitching and falling through reality like a bethesda glitch. Maybe Ford can't touch him and hes stuck on the floor for a bit, cursing and lying there, not moving for the next week until he can recover and Fords just stuck with his glitched out brother snarling at him on the floor, suddenly realizing that whoops maybe the thing with Stan's face might be Stan?
Who knows! The possiblities are endless really.
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Hello!!! Can I request an LA knight story were the reader tries to challenge a male wrestler to a match and LA freaks out cause he doesn’t her to fight a man? Thanks!��️❤️❤️
la knight x reader + drew mcintyre x reader
likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
❌ just reader being reckless and crazy. shaun panicking and drew being the emotional support
ARE YOU CRAZY?
you were tying your boots when you got the idea.
and like every one of your brilliant ideas, it came out of nowhere, loud and impulsive and definitely without any planning. the kind of idea that made people say “what the hell is wrong with you?” and the kind of idea that made shaun — your man — immediately start looking for the nearest fire extinguisher or worse, ambulance.
you were backstage at smackdown, your gear was already half on, your eyeliner was sharp enough to kill a man, and you had exactly twenty minutes before your match.
it was a normal day.
until you saw drew mcintyre walk by.
he was…enormous.
not like a little big. no. the man looked like he had been carved out of the side of a mountain and then dipped in testosterone. his presence alone made half the backstage crew sit up straighter. he walked like a king. and you, in your glittery kickpads and neon gear, stared at him like he had personally offended you.
shaun, seated behind you on a folding chair, noticed immediately.
“don’t” he said without even looking up from his phone “don’t do the thing you’re about to do.”
“what thing?” you asked sweetly, already rising to your feet with the confidence of someone who had never been injured.
“the ‘i can fight god and win’ thing” he muttered. “baby. please.”
you adjusted your wrist tape like a warrior ready for battle “i’m just gonna talk to him.”
“that’s what you said before you put karrion kross through a catering table” he whispered “and her wife wasn’t happy”
you turned, gave shaun your best innocent look, and blew him a kiss “back in five.”
he stared at the ceiling like he was asking it for help.
you found drew by the production crates, chatting with one of the writers about his promo later tonight. he was sipping water, arms crossed, laugh booming loud enough to shake the scaffolding.
you, being you, walked right up like you weren’t five foot whatever and a fraction of his body weight.
“hey drew” you said casually.
he turned and smiled “hey, lass. good luck tonight.”
you squinted “wanna fight me?”
he blinked.
then blinked again. were you serious?
“…what?”
you stood on tiptoe just to get closer to eye level. “i challenge you to a match. open challenge. no dq. i don’t even care if you bring a sword.”
the poor man looked like he’d been hit in the head with a frying pan made of confusion.
“are you serious?”
“dead serious” you nodded “unless you’re scared.”
a few crew members looked up. one of them gasped. another dropped their walkie.
drew blinked once more. then grinned “you’re insane.”
you laughed.
“i’ve been told.”
and that’s when shaun arrived, breathless, like a parent chasing their kid through a walmart.
“nope. absolutely not. what are you doing?” he pointed at you, wild-eyed, then at drew, then back at you “are you crazy?!”
“depends…” you shrugged “crazy strong? crazy fast? crazy pretty? or just…crazy crazy?”
shaun looked like he aged ten years in ten seconds “you’re four feet tall and built like a redbull can. that man is a prehistoric tank.”
drew, god bless him, tried to help “i’d take it easy on her.”
“you think that makes it better?” shaun shrieked, flailing dramatically “she doesn’t need to be taken easy on! she needs to be stopped! next thing i know she’s gonna barge into the male locker room and challenge everyone!”
“oh i might…” you patted shaun’s chest comfortingly “you love me.”
“unfortunately” he muttered, face buried in his hands.
somehow, somehow, the challenge was accepted.
nick aldis thought it was CRAZY. like you were the first one to bring up this idea. but he liked it. he knew — of course — that drew would have gone easy on you.
and he also knew that after this huge tension that’s been going on between the two roster, the public needed something chill — well, mostly chill — a match that would make people smile and relax.
so he agreed.
while la knight looked at him as if he had fire in his eyes.
and now you were in gorilla position, bouncing on your feet, grinning like a maniac, while shaun paced behind you like a worried dog in a thunderstorm.
“just… don’t try to suplex him” he begged.
“i’ve been working on my form” you said brightly.
“you’ll end up broken in nebraska.”
he made you laugh.
you turned and poked his chest “you gotta trust me.”
“i do!” he exploded “but you also tried to german suplex bron breaker once and blacked out for six seconds.”
you grinned “worth it. also he took it easy on me…”
shaun looked at the monitor like it had betrayed him. he couldn’t believe your words.
your music hit.
the crowd went nuts because they always did for you. they loved the chaos, the glitter, the trash talk, the recklessness. you were the firecracker of smackdown. and now you were about to step into the ring with the goddamn scottish terminator.
you skipped to the ring, blew a kiss to the crowd, and rolled under the ropes like you owned the building.
then his music hit.
the crowd alone made your spine vibrate.
drew stepped out onto the ramp like a boss fight, cape flowing, shoulders massive, looking down at you like you were adorable and also possibly dangerous.
you blew him a kiss too.
he smiled like he thought you were crazy. and if fact. you were.
the match was unhinged.
you jumped on his back like a spider monkey. he tossed you across the ring like a feather duster. at one point you tried to headbutt him and nearly concussed yourself. the crowd was eating it up.
you hit him with a chair.
he laughed.
you screamed “WHY ARE YOU SMILING?”
he shouted back “BECAUSE YOU’RE CRAZY!”
you lasted eight minutes.
eight glorious, exhausting, ridiculous minutes before he hit you with a claymore so fast it sent your soul to orbit. but even then, flat on your back, limbs spread like a starfish you were smiling.
and the second it was over, drew knelt and helped you out laughing like crazy. shaun was at ringside, hopping the barricade like he was being chased by a hurricane.
“don’t move” he said, crouching beside you.
“why?” you wheezed.
“because i don’t know if all your bones are still attached.”
you blinked up at drew and then up at him “was i cool?”
“pretty cool” drew added.
“baby. you were insane.” la knight smiled looking at you “and insane” then got more serious.
you reached up, grabbed his collar and pulled him down into a kiss, right there in the ring, your vision still fuzzy, crowd still cheering, drew laughing next to you.
when you pulled back, shaun groaned “i swear to god if you challenge roman next…”
“i was actually thinking gunther.”
“NO.”
#wwe#wwe x reader#wwe imagine#wwe x you#wwe imagines#wwe one shot#wwe x oc#drew mcintyre x you#drew mcintyre oneshot#drew mcintyre x reader#drew mcintyre#la knight x oc#wwe la knight x reader#la knight fluff#la knight one shot#wwe la knight#la knight x you#la knight smut#la knight imagine#la knight imagines#la knight x reader#laknight#la knight#wwe network#la knight angst#la knight story#drew mcintyre x og#drew mcintyre x oc#drew mcintyre one shot#la knight x original character
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hi... one of these posts again.
ill give you the short of it, we still owe 380 dollars for rent in december, haven't been able to pay for january, february, or march in full at all.
each months rent comes out to around 1395, so we're behind around 4500 dollars
our landlord has thankfully been very patient but i think hes going to be closing the book on us soon. at this point i dont blame him, but i think he's only being so patient because we've kept up with everything else
every little bit that hasnt gone to food has gone to bills and were still behind
i hate doing this. i fucking hate it. but because were struggling so fucking badly still i really dont have much of a choice. im sorry.
especially considering i made one not even a month ago
pypl / vnmo
0/1000
frankly speaking, this wont pull us out of the chasm we are currently in, but it would probably at least appease our landlord
if you cannot do anything, i understand. PLEASE do not feel like you have to. i just ask that perhaps you give it a reblog if you cant.
#considering how much im be asking for#i just freak out even thinking about asking for that kind of help#on the bright side some job prospects are looking great though#excuse me im going to go throw up now#im also trying to get the county health card again so i can have access to antidepressants again but the card isnt whats going to cost me..
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fh fandom back to wishing death on a fictional teenager for being mentally ill and not learning how to cope with that in a healthy way. what else is new
#do i think klck is correct? no#do i think a fandom full of grown adults should stop holding this (manipulated) (not sound of mind) teenager to wack standards? ya#like.... some of you are... how do i say this.... ~projecting~#and dont get me wrong this isnt me trying to say shes some kind of innocent misunderstood blorbo 🥺🥺🥺#i think shes a freak and a cunt. but im going to be normal about it and NOT say that she deserves to be killed (????)#pre-overtaking she was clearly aware that her behavior wasn't healthy#the fact she even went to jawbone at all (and was honest with him!) proves that imo#personally i feel like she might be neurodivergent -> struggling with knowing which rules to break and which ones to not#we literally JUST had an episode where the principal of AAA told students to their face that studying and working hard is dumb#i think kipperlilly came to aguefort. couldn't get a grip on what they Actually wanted from her#(parents went to mumple. she couldnt have been prepared for aguefort)#and out of frustration she fixated on people who were doing well and compared herself to them#and the only major surface difference she could find? tragic backstories#it only makes sense that she'd assume that THAT is what was missing. her inability to adapt to AAA was out of her control#so instead of blaming smth abstract (neurodivergence/other mental illness)#this single. concrete. and obvious difference is way easier to latch on to#but yeah. imo she just reads as someone super neurodivergent who received No Help because she 'made do'#and when thrown into a situation that required a skillset she wasn't born with. she shut down and got defensive#noone is born wanting to die yadda yadda#i think it's very interesting that when jawbone turned the question around on her (asking what SHE could do to get better)#she got quiet and awkward#its almost like she was trying her best? and just couldn't figure out where to go next?#and OH would you look at that. jace offering her a trip to the mountains of chaos. for a ~super dangerous adventure~#🙄#anyway.#awfully convenient. isn't it.#this has been me. having takes on ms goldendoodle shibainu#goodnight everyone (its noon)#not tagging this out of fear of the *** stans out there who will not stop taking things personally
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my grandpa was a good man. and it really wasnt his fault - recreationally lying to kids is a proud family tradition - but he told me, once, that cutting a worm in half resulted in two worms.
i think he said it so i'd be more morally okay with fishing? i actually dont remember the context.
point was, he told me this, and he understimated (by a very large margin) how much i liked worms. i was a worm boy. very wormy. and after hearing that, i went home, and i dug through the garden, flipped over every rock, did everything i could to gather as many worms as i could, and then i uh.
i cut them all in half. every worm i could find. all of them. with scissors.
i then took this pile of split worms, and i put them in a box with a bit of lettuce and some water and stuff and went to bed expecting to double my worms overnight. i have math autism, so i had a vague understanding that if i did this just a few times in a row, i would eventually have a completely unreasonable amount of worms.
i was very excited to become this plane's worm emperor.
(i think i was...six?)
anyway, i did not become the inheritor of the worm crown. i instead woke up to a box of dead worms and cried. a lot. i got diagnosed with panic attacks as a teenager, but i think i had them as a kid, i just had no idea what they were. i was kind of processing that a.) i had killed what i had assumed was every single worm in my yard, and thus would have no more worms, and b). i was going to like, worm hell.
(six year babylon spent a lot of time worrying about god.)
so i kind of freaked out, and i climbed a tree, because god can only smite you if you're touching the ground (?) and i sat up there mostly inconsolable until my mom came out and asked, hey, what's up? what happened?
so i explained to her that i had killed all of the worms, forever, and was also Damned, and she took me to the compost pile, and we dug for all of five seconds and found like twenty more worms.
the compost pile was full of worms.
she then told me that a). there were more worms, and we could put them back under rocks and stuff and recolonize our yard and b). that one day, i would die, and go to heaven, and be able to talk to the worms face to face. that i'd be able to tell them all that i was very sorry, and that i killed them on accident, driven only by excessive Love, and that she was positive they would forgive me because worms have six hearts and no malice.
at that point, i think i was sixty percent tear-snot by weight, and i had no choice but to gather enough worms that i could hug them. which my mom helped with. and then after that she helped me put some worms back under each rock.
and for my epilogue: i spent a significant portion of my childhood in trees. and for many years after, even when my mom didnt know i was watching, i would catch her giving the space under the rocks a light spritz with the hose. not because she loved worms.
but because she loved me.
#anecdotes#memories#worms#moms#the hazards of recreationally lying to children#dont treat my grandpa too harsh#story time#stories#babylon#animal death#religion
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Gotham TikTok
AKA "Danny moves to Gotham and records TikToks with absolutely deranged captions. He films Get Ready with Me in Gotham videos, fit checks, and even A Day in the Life of a Ghost in Gotham! Except everybody is freaking the fuck out in the comments" prompt idea!
No, you don't understand, I'm obsessed. Like, what if Danny's idea of "safe" is just... anything that doesn't actively try to kill him? So Metropolitians, Star City, and Central City citizens are literally biting their nails and sweating bullets every time he posts, because what if he gets merc'd by the "Eight Heads in a Duffel Bag" Red Hood?? And that's one of the nicer villains in Gotham. And Danny's just like wow, this place is niiiiiice, I haven't even been murdered yet!
Maybe Jazz took a 12-year-old Danny to Gotham to escape their parents. Gotham's cheap, dirty, and doesn't ask questions: it's the best place to go to disappear because damn near half the city's population are either super villains, hostages, dead, or vigilantes. She gets a job at an understaffed hospital as a clinical psych intern. She enrolls Danny for online schooling because she's scared a public high school would be too easy for their parents to track.
Which leaves Danny alone for hours. He makes a TikTok account called "Danny Phantom" because, c'mon, he's a kid. And, like most kids, he doesn't really comprehend the idea of a digital footprint or that his account is public, accessible by literally anybody.
He's also a little shit. So, the first TikTok he uploads is of a man getting carjacked, but the caption reads: love to see people helping each other. remember it's always okay to ask for help! it's okay, I don't know how to parallel park, either :)
And you just see this guy in a mask shove a businessman away from his car, gesturing with his gun, before getting into the driver's seat. Except the car is parallel parked so the carjacker just slowly inches back and forth between a Prius and a Honda until he can wedge himself out of the parking space. And then gets stuck in stand-still traffic. The TikTok goes viral. It's talked about on the Gotham news and Gothamites are losing their shit, pointing out the exact moment you can see the carjacker start to soundlessly cuss through the car's windshield or the way the businessman is just... standing on the side of the road, watching with a deadpan look.
Danny doesn't know about it being on the news, but he sees all the comments, likes, reposts, and feels something. He wonders if this is what Ember feels every time people listened to her music. So, he keeps posting. Usually, it's short three-second videos of a hilariously unexpected situation with an even more deranged caption. But then he's accidentally caught in the reflection of a store front while recording and doesn't know, posts it like he always does; only for this TikTok to go viral, too. Because "Danny Phantom" is a child??
He doesn't notice the shift in his comments, but the public opinion quickly changes from wow, Gothamites are just like that huh lol to what the FUCK, kid, get inside!!! anytime he posts.
Except Danny never gets hurt. Even in the most dangerous situations, when you'd think this kid is a goner for sure, he's just happily yapping in the background. He's so different from Gothamites because he lacks that dead-eyed, despair-inducing aura of someone who's lived in a hellmouth their whole lives. (A couple people post that Danny kind of reminds them of Golden Boy Brucie Wayne, all air-headed and unrealistically optimistic, and suddenly there's memes of "what happens when you've never gotten shot in Gotham" or "how i act when Commish Gordie accuses me of shoplifting again" with them side-by-side.)
And then Danny's posts go viral again and again. Danny doing a fit check with a blond-haired woman with a checkered outfit, she ruffles his hair and kisses him on the cheek. A picture of him wearing an old jean jacket with a bright red lipstick smear on his cheek is trending for weeks. Spoiler, fully suited up in an all-purple vigilante attire, and him shoving gas station hotdogs in their mouths. He even has videos of him clearly in Killer Croc's lair, with comments of are you in the sewers??? DANNY??? and he responds, no, i'm in mom & dad's basement :) (Waylon Jones is actually sitting behind him in one of the videos, intently watching a TV show on an iPad.)
Everybody adores Danny - Rogues, Gothamites, even the Bats. (There's at least six videos of Nightwing teaching Danny how to do backflips, handstands, and other acrobatic moves. Even the youngest Robin has been caught on camera quietly talking with Danny, a shocking lack of violence that left half the city's population suffering from cuteness aggression for the kids.)
So, yeah, Danny belongs to Gotham.
But the internet is widely accessible and Danny made it so, so easy to find him. Jazz obviously didn't know he was posting videos of himself publicly; she was too tired after back-to-back 12 hour shifts at the hospital that she hadn't even checked social media in months. Otherwise, she would've told him to be careful, to never show his face or post his real name on the internet. Then again, Jazz would never have expected all of Gotham (and Superman himself, totally endeared by the kid after Kon and Jon showed him a couple TikToks) would beat the absolute shit out of anybody going after Danny.
Imagine GIW's surprise when they track down Amity's former residential Ghost only to find an entire city frothing at the mouth to protect their Phantom.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton#danny phantom#batfam#i had to add waylon in here somehow#he's my boo my poor misunderstood scaley boy#who eats people sometimes#its not cannibalism if you're technically not human folks#danny's not in danger though because he's already dead#mine
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prompt: you and Price get in an accident (1.6k)
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He comes into your life like nothing less than divine intervention.
A fender bender, of all things. It’s a bad day and you’re distracted, too busy thinking about your dad calling to tell you that he lost ten thousand from his retirement fund when the stock he’d invested in crashed and how you’re supposed to help him out of this mess, and the roads are slick with that last snowfall of early spring, still unsalted even hours after the snow started.
So when you slam on the brakes at the last second after noticing the car in front of you stopped at a red light, your car slips on the ice and slides forward, hitting the back of the stopped car and sending it forward a foot. It’s quick and sudden, and though you stepped on the brakes early enough to avoid a worse collision, your head snaps forward with the jolt and the seatbelt yanks you back violently, winding you.
Your hands go tight around the wheel, eyes so wide that they nearly pop out of your head as you stare at the car directly in front of you. All of the dread in the world pools in your mouth and then down your throat when you swallow, heart galloping in your chest. You almost can’t believe it for a second.
Then the car in front of you—a big, fuck-you SUV that only worsens your anxiety because of all cars to hit, it had to be someone with a fancy, brand new car that probably has a lawyer on speed dial—puts their hazards on and the driver’s side doors opens and reality snaps like a rubberband back into you. With shaky hands, you put your car into park and put your hazards on as well.
“Oh shit,” you whisper under your breath. An understatement.
A tall man in a brown parka steps out of the car and stares at you through the windshield, a stern expression on his face. He has a beanie pulled down over his head and a full beard, and for a second, the mental image of a bear emerging out of its den flickers in your imagination, all snow-dusted and irritable.
He’s grizzled and older than you. The only consolation is that he doesn’t match the image of the driver that you had in your head—no seven thousand dollar suit or bluetooth earpiece; instead, he seems like the kind of man who’d drive an old pickup or a schooner, wearing an Aran sweater and a skipper's cap, with a pipe hanging from the corner of his mouth. He seems out of place in the middle of the road in your small town.
But he is real, and even though you watch him march over to you, you flinch when he raps on the window with his knuckles.
“Roll the window down,” he instructs, voice muffled through the glass, and you do because the command cuts through the buzzing in your ear. When you do, he reaches into your car with one hand and pops the lock, then takes a step back to open the door. You’d freak out if the situation were different, but you must be in shock because all you can do is stare at him dumbly as he leans into the car and undoes your seatbelt. “C’mon, sweetheart. Out.”
It doesn’t take much coaxing to get you to step out of the car. All he has to do is step back and you get out, knees nearly buckling, like jelly under you. He holds your elbow to steady you. Your elbow feels delicate and tiny in the width of his palm.
“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks, looking all over your face.
You want to answer him, but all you can do is whimper, “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, none of that. It was an accident. You alright though? Anything hurt?”
“Uh…I don’t…I don’t know.” It hasn’t really sunk in yet, you think. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be sore all over, but right now you feel fine. On the verge of shaking out of your skin, teeth nearly clattering together, but more or less okay.
“Nothing too bad then. Wanna give me your insurance so we can deal with this, sweetheart?”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Let me just—” You move to reach back into your car to fetch your purse, but he stops you, insisting on getting it for you.
And you let him, docile like a doll, watching as he leans into your car and across the seats to grab your purse, big frame looking comically large in your little car. Looking like he’d barely fit in the front seat if he tried to get in.
He comes back out with your little purse in hand and opens it, handing you your wallet and purse by its strap. Your fingers are still shaking when you pull out your insurance information and hand it to him. Everything feels surreal and muted, and the tears are going to flow at any minute now if you don’t get a handle on it.
He must notice because a knuckle fits under your chin and lifts your head up. “Hey, what’s wrong?
“No, no,” you say, reaching up to swipe your fingers over your eyes. “I’m just—I’m really embarrassed. I’ve never been in an accident before.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about.” His voice is much softer now, pitched low in the way handlers talk to spooked animals. He puts his thumb to your chin, holding you in place. “No one got hurt. Could’ve been worse than it was, and we’ve both got insurance, so what’s done is done. I don’t look mad, do I?”
Trapped between his thumb and knuckle, you can only give a slight shake of your head. “No.”
“Then let’s just take it one step at a time and no tears. Okay?”
You sniff. “Okay.”
“Okay. I’m going to call the insurance, so you get back in the car and sit tight, alright?”
You nod.
“Good girl,” he says, a hint of praise in his voice. “Put the heat on too. It’s too cold for that jacket.”
That makes you go warm all over, flustered and tongue-tied. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to expect a response out of you. The only thing he expects you to do is get back in the car and turn the heat back on, the warm air billowing into your face when he leans in to crank it up all the way.
Though most of the sound is muffled from inside the car, you turn down the heat and crack the window open slightly to hear him give his name to his insurance company. John Price. Even his name evokes the image of him somewhere else in the world, settled into the nooks and crannies of history.
John handles everything for you while you sit in the car like he told you to, settling everything with the insurance companies and calling for a tow truck right after that. You don’t realize that, of course, until the tow truck pulls up in front of his car and he comes back to usher you out of your car.
“How am I supposed to get home?” you croak. The tow truck driver hitches your car to the bed of the lift and pulls it up, your little car looking pathetic all alone up there.
“I’ll drive you home then bring mine in later.”
“Why can’t I drive my car to the garage too?” You’re petulant now that you’ve learned that he won’t bite, and you know it’s petulance because you don’t actually put up much of a fight to get your car taken off the tow truck.
That petulance trembles when his expression grows stern again. “You’re getting it checked by a mechanic before you get behind the wheel again,” he tells you in no uncertain terms, eyes daring you to contradict him.
You don’t. It’s hard to argue with someone so adamant on your wellbeing. A mechanic in later days will tell John, with you by his side, that your car was mostly fine apart from some slight damage to the bumper, but that you made the right call to bring it in just in case the frame cracked during the accident.
John’s arm will be around your waist at the time and he’ll pull you tighter into his side when the mechanic says that. And what do you do but go with it, curling into his side like it’s natural. You’ll have already fucked him by then anyway. It’ll be no less forward than letting him take you for coffee and then back home, following you up to your apartment and into your bed.
Now though, you let him usher you into the passenger seat of his car and shut the door behind you, the wind cutting off abruptly. It only comes back when the door opens on his side.
You rattle off your address and watch bemusedly as he programs it into his GPS and hits save. You don’t have the temerity to question him, to poke a hole in the bubble of familiarity ballooning around the two of you. The real world seems far away in his car, like you’re in limbo, the rules different here somehow.
“How about a coffee?” he asks at the next light, putting his hand on your thigh and shaking when you don’t respond right away. “Does a hot drink sound good right about now?”
“I guess?” you say. In truth, it sounds great, but you’re losing the thread of this conversation, your old preoccupations getting further and further away from you.
John gives your thigh a squeeze, lingering for a beat before pulling away. “Good. It’ll be a nice little pick me up before we go home. My treat.”
All you can do is nod, your throat dry.
#ceil writing#just a little thing to refresh me because i haven't written all month and needed to reset my brain#price x reader#price/reader#cod x reader#john price x reader#john price x you
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𖹭 cw: suggestive, edgy, mdni
part one | two | three | four | five ‹soon›
You can't say you weren't warned about your big brother's friend sukuna, but nothing could have truly prepared you for him.
"Funny looking how?" You ask, arching an eyebrow.
"Just go to your room while he's here," your brother Toji urges. "Don't need you feeding his ego, goddamnit."
"He's funny looking and somehow my presence will feed his ego?" You deadpan, with zero inclination to forfeit your comfy spot on the couch. "Make it make sense, Toji. Or better yet, fuck off so I can finish this cover letter," you gesture at the open laptop sitting on your thighs. "Faster I can get out of this shithole, the better," you grumble.
Although, your brother's place is far from a shithole, in truth. You know better than to ask how he affords it doing nothing but fucking around with the sinister assortment of thugs he calls friends. In turn, he doesn't ask you about the unfortunate circumstances that landed you in one of his spare rooms... again.
Toji groans. "Yeah he gets off on scaring people. Especially girls. Especially hot girls. And, I suspect, especially girls who are related to me."
"Gross," you say, directing you attention back to the screen. "I'm not scared of your asshole friend and I'm not moving."
Toji opens his mouth to protest further, but too late. There is a loud knock on the door followed by it crashing open and thunderous footsteps coming down the hall.
Despite more than a little curiosity regarding your brother's funny looking friend, you manage to keep your eyes on your work.
Toji is grumbling some weak attempt to direct the visitor toward the "stuff" in the garage when a shadow falls over you. Still, you continue typing.
"Who's this?" A deep voice growls. "Not gonna introduce me?"
"Just my little sister. Leave her alone, Sukuna. She's a bitch anyway."
"Fuck you, Toji. And a preemptive fuck you to you, too, whoever you a- hey, ow!" You exclaim as the newcomer slams the laptop closed on your fingers. "What the h-" the exclamation dies on your lips when you finally raise your eyes to see the largest man you have ever seen looming over you.
He is a lot to take in. You silently curse Toji for not warning you properly. "Kind of funny looking" does not even begin to describe the thing standing before you. Four crimson eyes stare back at you, two of which are set in a twisted mass of keloid scar tissue that takes up most of one side of his tattoed face. Eyes aren't the only anatomical feature he has extra of, you notice. Two sets of muscular arms protrude from the cut off sleeves of his t-shirt.
It takes a lot to render you speechless, but the sight of him does the trick. Although, you can't help but think that the smirking bastard somehow makes the odd look work for him. Yeah. 'Circus sideshow level freak but kinda hot' would've been a better descriptor. Although you manage to hold the man's gaze, you're sure your eyes are as wide as saucers. To your horror, you feel heat creeping up your neck as your lip twitches in search of something - anything - to say that might lessen the humiliation you feel. And Toji was right, this jerk is eating it up.
"Toj said you were ugly, but jesus..." you say, when you finally regain your composure.
Sukuna laughs, flashing a set of pointed canines before he abruptly turns to follow your brother towards the garage.
"I like her," he says, hooking a thumb over his shoulder in your general direction, which, for some reason, makes your heart beat a little too hard.
"No, man." Toji groans. "Just no."
part one | two | three | four | five ‹soon›
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk angst#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jjk x y/n#sukuna angst#sukuna fluff#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you
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ᡣ𐭩 content — fan!gojo x pop-princess!reader. fluff, gojo's kind of a freakk :P

fan!gojo is, delicately put, obsessed. his penthouse apartment? a whole room dedicated to your discography, limited edition vinyls glowing under soft led lights, and walls plastered with every magazine cover you've ever graced. his credit card? permanently swiped for your latest merch drops, holographic posters, and plushie keychains.
fan!gojo who hears about the meet-and-greet raffle from your instagram (he's the first to like the post). panic sets in. a raffle? random chance? this is an affront to his meticulously planned life. no amount of money can guarantee a win.
fan!gojo who has to beg for this stranger on reddit to give them their tickets to him. he lost a little over a million dollars (yeah, okay, in hindsight, that wasn't financially smart — but, this was the opportunity of a lifetime).
fan!gojo who ends up bringing geto with him, since he doesn't want the other ticket to go to waste. out of geto, of all people, he's not sure. geto, the heavy-metal aficionado. their music tastes' are worlds apart, but gojo's doing his best friend a favor.
fan!gojo who spends hours picking out his outfit, to which geto snorts, "it's not like you're going on a fucking date with her."
fan!gojo who huffs, dramatically crossing his arms. "we're taking pictures."
fan!gojo who ends up bring all of your vinyls to the meet-and-greet. every single one. "what?" he asked geto, who was giving him a funny look. "i couldn't decide. they're all amazing."
fan!gojo who's practically bouncing off the walls, when the security guard tells him it'll be their turn, soon. will he be okay? does he look okay? wait, does he smell okay?
fan!gojo who's shoving his to-be-signed merch into geto's hands, cracking his knuckles. after a moment, he snatches them back, hissing, "don't do anything embarrassing, okay?"
"...says the one bringing a whole ass record store."
fan!gojo who is freaking out when he lays his eyes on you. in person. even geto, who's never seen him flustered over a girl, can't help but snicker.
fan!gojo who thinks your voice is even sweeter in real life, if that's possible. you smile, a soft greeting leaving your lips. all he can do is stutter a response. (yes, geto is filming.)
fan!gojo can't tear his eyes off you. you're dolled up in the prettiest shade of pink, and you look gorgeous. your hair rests in soft curls, styled to perfection. though, he'd pop a boner if you showed up with bed-head.
fan!gojo who gets all his merch signed by you, as he grins boyishly, a warm pinking dusting his cheeks.
fan!gojo who musters out the courage to blurt; "i love you! y— your music, i mean," stuttering over his attempted amends. too much courage, it seems.
fan!gojo who practically sighs in relief when you laugh. "yeah?" you ask, handing him his items.
"yeah," fan!gojo says, breathy. "huge fan."
you tilt your head at him, thoughtful eyes. "i can tell." fan!gojo's cute, you think. as they're heading out, you stop him, watching his brows knit in confusion.
"we can take a picture, just us," you suggest. "if you'd like."
if fan!gojo would like? fuck, yeah, he would.
fan!gojo who's beaming, waiting for the click of the camera, when you catch him off-guard — pressing a kiss to his cheek.
fan!gojo who's eyes widen, and he's sure that photo came out odd on his end, but god, he'll keep it forever.
fan!gojo who thinks his life can't get any better, but you're sliding off your bejeweled, pink bracelet and slipping it on his wrist. eyes twinkling, you wave him out.
it's not until he gets home, placing his merch back where it belongs (on what normal people would call a shrine, but fan!gojo prefers the term collection), that he notices something on his vinyl, not just a signature.
it's your number, with, right below it; for my biggest fan.
fan!gojo who's breath hitches. he's won.
#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#fluff#jjk#gojo satoru x y/n#satoru gojo x you#gojo fluff#satoru fluff
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enhypen - 🎀 - raw offer

enha!xfem!reader - letting them hit raw for the first time
includes: hee, jay, jake, riki (cuz i didnt think it fit for sunoo and hoon that much, and i have a longer similar fics for won coming up)
warnings: unprotected sex (obviously), breeding kink, mentions of actual breeding, rough sex, pull and pray, creampies, lowkey implied noncon BUT ITS CON, reader is different in all lol, lmk if i missed smth
guys dont mind the header not being pretty im in a depressive episode rn my asks are open tho
masterlist
HEESEUNG
Top three raw lovers in Enha for sure.
Like, he has been wanting to do it raw since your very first time, but that was unfamilair terrority for you, so he didn’t push it.
But you were able to see it.
The subtle distaste on his face every time he unpacked the condom, and positioned himself, feeling the latex keeping him from feeling your pussy around him.
Maybe he couldn’t help it, maybe he did it on purpose, so you’d feel bad and just give in to his (your) desires.
Whether it was intentional or not, it was working. You got that damn Plan B after pills, you doubled the punctuality of your already instense everything shower, and now you are ready.
Well, mostly. Still nervous, and thinking about all the possible way this could go wrong, or like, what if it won’t even feel any better and you did all that for nothing? Embarassing. You better see those dark bambi eyes roll back to know it was worth it.
His reaction to this is already paying off a big part though.
‘Oh yeah? You did that just for me?’
You nod, a little shy under his deep gaze. He’s currently hovering over you in bed, after a long makeout session you literally broke with saying “I bought Plan B”. First, he was taken aback, then he started to smirk like he is doing now, which you weren’t sure what kind of smirk was, somewhat unusal.
‘You want me to fuck your little pussy raw?’ Heeseung tiltshis head to the side, one of his hands already in your tiny sleeping shorts. It’s kinda weird, because that wasn’t originally your idea, but…you do want it, right? So you nod, not even sure if it was a real question.
He suddenly grips your jaw, harsh, and forces a firm eyecontact.
‘With words, Y/N. Answer me.’
Oh so it is.
‘I-I do…’ — Clearly still not enough — ‘I want you to fuck my pussy raw’ A messing blush that you are, seriously. Way too crude.
When he pushes in, you start to get why he’s kinda obsessed with this idea.
He’s obviously a lot more into it now, judging by the way he’s snapping his hips forward, and bruising your tights by gripping them so hard.
And…
‘Fuck, I’m coming inside. I can, right? — He answers his own question before you could even breathe — Of course I can. I’m filling you up, I’m- gonna breed you full’
Wait, pause.
Full? Breeding? That’s not-
Suddenly, he’s roughly rubbing your bundle of nerves, and the words on your throat die and evolve into whimpers of pleasure. He takes that as a firm ‘yes’.
His cum is hot inside you.
JAY
God, you're both so into it.
You were literally just both hesitant to bring it up without sounding like an absolute freak to the other.
Because it wasn’t just the feeling of each other without layers — it was the feeling of the risk, the possibility.
What would happen if he actually ended up impregnating you? No one really cares about that in the moment when a specific wish slips out of your lips as he drags the red, angry head of his cock to your cervix and back with every thrust.
‘Please, Jay, i-inside’
His hips shatter, pausing for a minute.
‘Inside? Baby, are you sure?’
Despite his question, he’s still not stopping entirely, his slower, but deeper thrusts keeping you both on edge.
‘Yes, yes-please, come inside’
No more reluctance, just his hand finding your throat, pinning you to the bed and pounding his big load into your eager cunt. When he pulls out after the last thrust, he sees his cum drip out of you. Might be the prettiest sigh he’ve ever seen.
Yeah, he might have ran for Plan B after this, but it was pretty hot.
JAKE
You and Jake are at a party. You came with some of your friends, but as the night went on, you eventually separated from them.
Some shots down, a little bit of dancing (your back aligning with Jake’s chest and ass grinding back against his crotch), he pulls you into a bathroom upstairs. No questions, just sloppy kisses, dress pushed up, belt hitting the floor, boxers and panties pulled to the side.
You are both tipsy, so even you, who is usually the more thoughtful and cool headed one, loses focus, which results in you only noticing that Jake is bare, when he has already pushed the swollen head past your rim.
‘Jake, wait! You didn’t put on a condom!’ You gasp, grabbing his shoulders.
‘Babe, we don’t have a condom!’ He whines into your neck. He stopped when you told him to wait, but he is still half-buried inside of you, and doesn’t make a move to pull out.
You’re ready to scold him and tell him to pull the fuck out, but when you make eye contact with him, you already know you’ll let him. Because damn he’s good at this whole ‘desperate, almost crying but holding on’ look.
And yes, he was a whiny mess.
‘Ah, Y/N, fuck. You feel so good- why haven’t we done this before?’
And you would smack him for that if it wasn’t so good.
RIKI
It all started with running out of condoms and the sentence ‘I’ll just grind down, I won’t put it in’.
And now Riki’s long, thick length is sliding through your folds, drawning out low groans of him and soft gasps from you. He is pulling your soaked thongs aside with one hand, and grips himself with the other, pumping his whitish liquid out of the angry head of his cock onto your mound.
He also leans down to give those sloppy kisses of his just in the right moments, and the way he licks into your mouth and pushes his hard shaft against your clit makes you want to suck him in like a vacuum. Or whatever.
And, you know, it might have been too slippery, you might have been too lost in the moment to notice that he is, well…inside. You both let out probably the filthiest sound so far.
Warm. Hard. Pulsing.
Warm. Tight. Gasping.
Feeling each other deep inside without anything in the way had to be the hottest thing in the world.
And you couldn’t move.
‘Should I pull out?’ He asks, but he is still pressing you down, and he has pushed all the way in now.
He should. You’re not in the situation to just do it like this, but…
‘No, don’t’
It’s all a blurry mess of chase after that.
Long story short, he cums into your more than one time, and you leave your pretty white rings around even more times by the end.
#kpop#enhypen#enha imagines#enha smut#enha x reader#neodazed#enha smau#enhypen fic#enhypen smut#enhypen jungwon#enhypen niki#enhypen imagines#enhypen jake#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen heeseung#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#enhypen hard hours#enhypen x female reader#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen jay#enhypen sunoo#enhypen headcanons#written by neodazed
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tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:
damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.
reader: i am pregnant though
the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family
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Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five
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A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.
A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.
A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.
A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.
Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.
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You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.
In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.
It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.
You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.
The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.
The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.
When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.
But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.
After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.
This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.
The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.
It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.
What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.
But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.
And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.
Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.
“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”
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Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.
You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.
Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.
Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.
The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.
Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.
Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.
It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.
Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.
“Do you— um, want something else?”
It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.
“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.
It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.
“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.
You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”
Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”
The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.
“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.
“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.
As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.
When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.
Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.
"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."
"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"
And, just like that your mood shifts.
"No."
"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.
"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."
That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"
"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.
"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.
"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.
"He doesn't ignore you-"
"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."
Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.
"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.
"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."
"Really?! That's all I had to do?"
"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"
"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"
You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.
"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.
"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.
"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."
"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."
"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.
"Now, that's offenseive."
"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."
"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."
The banter between you both coming back with ease.
When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.
As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.
Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.
"You okay, Steph?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
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A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?
A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.
A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.
A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.
#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader#platonic batfam#yandere dc#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfamily x reader#anon ask#answered asks#pregnant!reader
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