#left a bunch of things out because i meant to make this about this piece of dialogue alone ahh

[xxknockoutxx]

The beginning

𝙎𝙮𝙣: 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙜𝙪𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙮.

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘿𝙖𝙗𝙞(𝙏𝙤𝙪𝙮𝙖 𝙏𝙤𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙞) 𝙭 !𝙑𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: cursing, screeching nomus and yeah

𝘼/𝙣: this fic is really old and I just never finished it. Lol.

Moments like these are meant to be cherished. Sitting in your boyfriend's lap as he starts fights with all the League members for no reason. Still sitting there with a smirk on his face and a proud hand over your thigh.

Eventually the topic transitions from arguments about whatever into Beginnings rather how everybody met each other. Now the topic comes up.

"How did you guys meet?" Toga asks, looking at dabi with curious and intrusive eyes.

"Uhhhh..." He cocks his head and rubs his chin in a thinking position. The amount of time he put in was a little too long for your liking.

You were shooting mad glares at dabi because why the fuck is it taking so long for him to respond? It shouldn't be that hard to remember something so important.

"Go on, tell her, we're allllll awaiting your response" you say while shooting his sarcastic look.

"I'm getting to it, doll" He says while desperately searching through his mental library for that distinct 'One day' he could feel those glares burning holes in his face and he can see toga's smirk in the corner of his eyes. The things he would do to smack the hell out of that girl.

"Wowww, how are you even lower than my lowest expectations" you cross your arms and move off his lap and find solace in Twice's and Compress' comfort.

"But that was like 2 years ago! My bad that I've had too many near death experiences to remember when I met one person!"

The whole fucking league: Wowwwww....

"The fuck are y'all wowing about!?"

You take a deep breath before looking at Toga.

"I'll tell you. It was kinda weird because I was different a long time ago..."

"This is all your fucking fault Dabi"

"How the fuck is this my fault!?"

"I'm not the one who left their spot to get a beer and look at some women!"

"Ohhh...."

Wonderful when a mission goes WRONG right? Being tied up and gun point in front of a whole bunch of facility members.

"Can you pretty please tie me up away from them.. They're hurting my ears!" Toga shouted at the guard that stood before her, clearly unfazed by her begging.

A loud crash in the next room got all of the guards attention and they basically forgot about the league.

"Oh thank the heavens above, maybe compress used his Spidey Sense and figured up that we're fucking held captive!" Shigaraki was still throwing daggers at dabi not even caring for toga at this point.

"Shiggy, if I hear another word out of your dry ass mouth I swear I will make sure I'm not the only piece of burnt b-!"

A huge wave of blood splashed them, even making Toga flustered. A cloaked figure walked past them so briefly that it looked like they were fazing in and out of reality. Were they really just here to steal? Not even concerned that they have Japan's greatest villains in the palm of their hand?

The figure disappeared and the rope cut by itself or rather by a dagger that ended up in the rope somehow...

After they got back to the base dabi got chewed out pretty good by the league and was sent on his own on a solo mission as maybe apology or to earn the leagues trust but truthfully it was just to get him as far away from shiggy as possible.

"So annoying... Send me on a fuckin' mission like I'm your little minion n' shit"

He mocked shiggy and his scratchy voice. "Look for supercharged Nomu, blah blah blah" The audacity of him to kick ME out. I'm fucking Dabi I don't care if he thinks he's my boss, I swear I'm gonna slap the shit out of him when I see him again...

His thoughts raced, so caught up in his chanting he didn't notice the approaching thundering stomps. Oh shit... That's a...— NOMU!

"Yeah get the fuck out of here, now..." *He runs off the building he was on and through the woods trying to find a short cut to a place he could have more battleground.

Turns out that super charged nomu are faster than a dude who runs in heeled boots and smokes 20 cigarettes a day. So yeah... He got stuck. But don't worry because that same mysterious figure from earlier jumps in and saves his ass again!

Before he could even notice himself slightly above the ground he's launched into a tree, facing the nightmarish monster that was just following him.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm gonna drop you from this tree and let it demolish your body"

"Understandable, have a nice day, do as you wish."

A group of trees collapsed on the Nomu causing it to scream and bleed. Dabi looked almost starstruck as he admired the sight before. The gust of air knocked off the figures hood revealing that they were in fact female.

Damnnnn mama was the only thing he was thinking in that empty head. Right as he was about to run his way back home he was being held up.

"So you're with the league of losers?"

"Eh close enough" He shrugged

In a matter of seconds dabi had a burning hot blade pressed against his throat. Wow kinky much? He thought. But nevertheless and he complied out of his own boredom

"Take me to your base now!"

"Okay" He didn't mind, he'll just lure you back to the base, to his specific room, and thennnnn after an extended 'talking' session he'll kill you and return the league in a great mood!

Well, that didn't happen and that's how you guys met.

[n4rval]

FUN VALUE 62: The Eccentric Genius

Isn't it odd how firsts are seconds? As in, should we consider the order of exposure by FUN value or follower number? Though I suppose goners are not meant to be linear at all. This is why all of the Followers reiterate that central piece of the story, yet, each of them offer an unique perspective that helps us piece together not only Dr. W.D. Gaster's current condition, but who he is as a character.

No, there is no typical way to look at a character who defies the very notion of a written script. To be atypical among the already strange, to fit right in yet feel so obviously alien, the sole lump of hard coal among shiny gems.

It makes sense why ASGORE took so long to hire a new Royal Scientist.

After all, the old one... Dr. Gaster. What an act to follow!

They say he created the CORE.

Coal that burns the most effectively and brings light to all around him, in more ways than one. Impossible only until someone steps forward and makes it possible, to pursue the most absurd of ideas and be stared at with either unease or awe, to make it an act to follow.

From the occasional inconvenient property damage, the unecessarily bulky gadget that looks like it came straight out of a cartoon ...

... to the grand opening speech nobody got a single word of but applauded for the flashy lights anyway.

However, his life... Was cut short.

One day, he fell into his creation, and...

Will Alphys end up the same way?

This bit can be particularly misleading at first glance, alluding to the idea of an accident or, possibly, a suicide of sorts. We already know how this bit played out, however, the mention of either instance is purposeful in a way the ideas complement each other.

To be special is to be strange, and loneliness is often the price of brilliance. It can be difficult to escape feelings of alienation when people seem to get along so naturally without having to make a conscious effort to understand and be understood. This parallel with Alphys isn't only due to their shared position, but the taxing demand for excellence that comes with it in exchange for belonging.

It wouldn't be a absurd to speculate that, possibly, Alphys would one day have a manic episode that would both be her greatest stunt and her last breath in this earth. Ah, but this is where they deviate, isn't it?

Beloved Dr. Wacky Dingus, too in love with life to leave it, yet never satisfied not to risk it - who continues to offer mystery and wonder, once through light, now through dark.

[tomurawr44]

I have a request!!

Shiggy wins reader the giant plushie she wanted from the claw game of the arcade (he says it’s all rigged but she begs him to help her because he seems like the type to be good at these games “hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!”) and she watches his slender fingers skillfully move the controls and he wins the derpy giant plushie for her in one try.

But then she can’t stop thinking about how those fingers would feel inside of her, and wants to reward him…he’s probably the type to be into knee socks and plaid mini skirts…and she did want to thank him for the plushie…she’s going to rock this virgin’s world.

(Go wild with NSFW plz we’re all a bunch of perverts)

A/N: is it too tmi if i say i did what happened in this fic irl

Warnings: nsfw!! hand kink..finger suckling, face fucking, dangerous sex..

"So close...!" you groaned as you saw the plush fall out of the claw machine again, whining against the glass you pressed against the glass with your fingers clawing at it, sliding down before you rested against the controller. "Why even bother? all these claw machines are rigged y'know." he'd speak up, sipping on his drink while he watched you bent over the machine and crying about some ugly plushie. he was confused and thought you were stupid. as per usual.

"you don't get it! I need this thing and i need it now!" you whined like an immature brat as you stared at it, it was a derpy off brand hatsune miku plush, and it made you want to cry with frustration, with only a few coins left. you turned to him as he scoffed, his irritation only growing. "your blowing all your money on something we could get online for cheap." he stated while he looked around, you knew you looked ridiculous, you knew that you could just buy it but the experience, memories and the challenge is what makes it such a memorable piece to remember. that's why you wanted it so bad, plus, it was hatsune miku, who wouldn't want a hatsune miku plush? but he couldn't lie he found it a little funny. "besides, i could win that easy peasy, there's a bunch of tips i got from online." your eyes lit up upon hearing that, of course Tomura of all people knew how to beat a game meant for kids.

with the clack of your shoe against the floor, you gripped onto him by his shoulders with a pleading pout. "please Tomura please! i-I'll do anything i swear! I'll give you anything you want or a reward for getting me that plush!" you pointed at the derpy miku as he tried to hide the blush on his cheeks, anything he wants? a reward? life couldn't be any damn sweeter for him, and he gets to finally show off cool stuff he's saved from the internet. he pulls out his phone and looks for the tutorial video again before he places coins against the slot and the game music started beeping again.

he moved his fingers delicately, trying not to decay the machine as he fiddled with the joystick almost randomly as he rapidly tapped on the button, the way he handled the machine and the way his slender fingers moved against it made you bite your lip a little as you watched him, a dork in his natural environment. you could see his focused reflection in the glass of the machine as you snapped a quiet pic, god he's adorable. you watched him fail before he angrily put in more coins, rocking the machine a little as he handled it more roughly, mumbling curses while he tried for that miku plush again, the way he was so quick and rough made you stare a little longer than intended before you heard the victory music and the plush gently fall into the slot. a wide smile appearing on your face, he couldn't lie, it found it rather..cute.

"YES! yes! Thank you so much Tomura! i love it so much you don't even—" he stopped you with a cocky grin. he looked so nerdy doing this. "yeah, whatever. what's my reward?" you pause to think over it before you just smiled at him and locked arms. "a hug." was what you said but what really wanted to leave your lips was alot more than just a 'hug.' you could feel your underwear stick to your panties as you let out a small huff, smiling softly at him, poor boy doesn't know what's coming. he kept walking as he truly thought his reward for showing off his awesome hand-eye-coordination was just a hug. "I'll get Kurogiri to warp us home, he isn't home right now so i guess you can hangout awhile longer."

perfect.

when you arrived and stepped out of the purple fog, at the dingy bar, there was no one keeping it and it was empty as always, Tomura led you to his messy room as he plopped down on the bed and watched you cuddle the derpy miku plush. "why do you even like it so much?" he questioned while he ran his fingers against his neck while eyed you up and down with a curious look. "it's ugly, but cute, ugly cute y'know?" you giggled softly before putting it aside and crawling closer to him. "You still waiting on that reward?" you whispered as you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and brought his open hand to your breast. he immediately got the message and nodded his head reaching for his gloves before you stopped him. "no, not yet."

"what the hell do you mean 'not yet'? are you suicidal or something?" he looked at you as if you were stupid before you only giggled and brough his hands together, dropping his right one before you pressed the tips of his left fingers against your lips. "Maybe, not really thinking with my head here." you whispered before you parted your lips and licked them, watching him shiver before you began to slide his middle and pointer finger in and letting your tongue play against them. you let out a few soft moans as he watched you with eyes blown wide. his cock aching painfully against his jeans as he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "wh-what the hell are you doing..? i-..you know that-" He was cut off by the sound of you pulling away with a small pant, letting the pade of his fingers rest against the flat and soft surface of your tongue. "can't I appreciate these pretty hands in peace?" you chuckled. "You can't appreciate them if i dust you.."

"but you won't, right pretty boy?" is what you whispered before you slid his fingers back into your mouth, sucking on them like you would with a cock as you even pulled them barely all the way out before you swirled your tongue against the tips before sliding it all the way back in, letting drool leak down your throat as you maintained eye contact with him. he tried to reach down and undo his buttons, grabbing his dick and pulling it out as he jacked off to the sight of you doing that to him, letting out small moans and biting his dry lips while he stroked himself to the sight. "i-i fucking knew you were kinky but..this is new.." he tried to match his pace to your mouth as he felt like absolute heaven.

you pulled away just before he was about to cum, letting his fingers barely connect to your lips with a string of drool before you pulled him to stand up while you got on your knees. you saw him put on his gloves before he let his pants pool around his ankles as he shoved his needy cock into your throat. "G-gah! if this is– wh-what i get for winning...!" he groaned as he thrust into your mouth, grinding against you every now and then. "Fuck- take me to the arcade every weekend- please! let me win for you..!" he babbled as he thrust into your face, his cock sliding against your tongue as you tuned him out a long time ago and let him use you like a fleshlight. it didn't take long for him to shove himself as deep as he could down your throat before cumming, giving you no option to spit out or swallow, besides, who would be spitting him out? certainly not you. he panted as he twitched in your throat, watching you pant as he pulled away and let his saliva soaked dick rest on your face as it leaked remnants of his load onto your cheek.

"What do i get for buying you a cosplay?" he whispered as he looked down at you with a crooked smile, his cock pulsing on your face as you smiled back. this was going to be one..long and spoiled night for you. don't tell All For One why he blew his allowance on clothes that seemed so expensive, or Kurogiri for that matter.

—Ake 2024

[cheriladycl01]

I'm not scared! Colby Brock x MotoGPDriver! Reader Part 4

Plot: You made a tweet about Sam and Colby and were in a podcast and they brought up Sam and Colby where you talked about the paranormal and how it doesn't really scare you because you drive motorcycles at over 200mph.

Credit to misscalliopecruz for the GIF

You didn't realize just how easy it was for Sam and Colby to make calls to these haunted locations and be given permissions to film investigations.

You'd been set up for literally 3 days time which made you guys feel even more excited as it was such short notice. Colby and Sam spent the time charging all the equipment, booking hotels and doing all the admin stuff you'd offered to help them with but they'd refused saying you should try and get a few good nights of sleep while you could, so you stayed in your flat making sure you had a comfy enough outfit ready to go in.

Colby had practically begged you to wear their merch, so of course you took the hoodie he'd given to you. You'd planned to wear it with a pair of bootleg jeans as even though it was very clearly British Time you gathered in the middle of the night in an old creepy castle it would get cold. Which is why you were thankful for the hoodie rather than a top as the piece of merch Colby gifted you.

You kind of wanted to make Colby and Sam wear some of you Red Bull Merch but thought maybe that was going a bit too far so you left them packed away in the rucksack you were going to be taking with you.

You had a later night on the day before the investigation so you were able to stay up till around 4 or 5am, ending up waking up for around 11am. You did your morning workout before getting something to eat and had a slow evening before meeting up with the boys.

"Are you okay driving?" Colby asks as you all walk down to the car park of the hotel they were staying in.

"Any reason, or just because I'm the better driver?" you smirk, knowing full well you were the better driver.

"I just don't like driving in the UK, it's way more complicated than the US, those roundabouts... wild things!" he jokes, even though there was some truth to it.

"Yeah sure, I don't mind... but If I'm driving its my Spotify playlist on shuffle..." you reason and they both nod agreeing, not petty enough to start a disagreement over music, especially when you guys would probably have similar music tastes.

The drive to the castle was fun, you were all talking about the history you guys had researched and what was there.

When you pulled up, you got this zing of excitement down you spine.

"Guys, I'm really excited for this" you exclaim looking back at them getting all the stuff out the car while you were in awe of the building.

It was a huge location and you already knew that the boys would challenge you to go somewhere alone because of how big it was.

The boys got out their camera and you waited off to the side as they did their intro.

"What's up guys its Sam and Colby and today we are here a Dannamore Castle in the UK, one of the most haunted Castles in the world!" Colby says with that normal cryptic sort of look on his face.

"And as you guys probably expected from our recent trip to see out good friend, today we have Y/N Y/L/N here with us!" Sam introduces panning the camera round to you making you smile and bunch up closer to them.

"Hey!" you grin and the boys turn to you.

"Okay for those who don't know Y/N is a MotoGP rider to she basically rides motorbikes really quickly round race-tracks for a living and she's really good at it too. The reason she is here is because she said she wouldn't be scared to come onto one of our videos and we really want to put that to the test" Colby mentions and you blush at the praise, entirely used to but it still got you every time.

They cut the cameras after showing the outside of the area saying that they'd be filming a lot of the history out-takes in their studio at home and having watched their videos you knew what they meant.

Two men and a lady came out, one was the caretaker, another was a tour guide and the other a medium of sorts that worked with the place.

Sam and Colby started to talk to the caretaker that would help in showing you round later when you walked off.

You thought you saw something dash out the corner of your eye, Sam and Colby were too busy listening too all the ins and outs of the area, what rooms you didn't have access to which in this particular castle wasn't actually that many just the unsafe spaces where the wooden flooring had gotten too old and they hadn't rebuilt it yet.

"Where's your friend?" the caretaker asks seeing that the girl wasn't where she had been a minute ago.

The others look around trying to see if you were behind the car or near the entrance but you were nowhere in sight.

"Y/N?" Colby yelled out. Sam following with a shout of his own name.

"Yeah?" you ask walking from behind a stone wall that ran behind the castle into the gardens.

"Where did you run off to?" Sam asks and the caretakers also look intrigued.

"Something caught the corner of my eye and I wanted to see if anyone else was on the property" you shrug your shoulder making Sam look to the now turned on camera Colby had, as they had started to film the minute the group were aware that you were missing.

"You just left, because you saw something?" Colby asks and you nod, making Sam chuckle. They cut the cameras, giving you a small run down of the castle, which rooms you guys weren't allowed it and when you guys had to leave by.

They also further explained not having got there before that it would just be you guys in there tonight, the caretaker however stays in the barn that was technically 'on the property' but not inside the castle just for legal purposes.

"So this is the centre of the castle. Back in the day, all residents from the Dannamore family and their friends would have been around here as this was and still is a hub" the tour guide smiles as you all look around the expanse of the hall.

"Who was part of the Dannamore Family, I'm guessing we'll meet some of them tonight?" you smile asking intrigued.

"Well Drake Dannamore has always been the most present spirit we have here. He is the original resident of the castle" she starts and you all nod.

"Is he cool?" Colby asks making you turn to him in shock. How is he referring to a like 1000 year old spirit as cool.

"He's a kind spirit yes. Y/N you'll get most the activity from him, he's the protector of this house... practically the women" she smiles.

"Really? Why's that?" Sam asks.

"Well, Drake..." she starts and you guys hear a knock from the back of the room making you all look there and the guide and caretaker laugh a little.

"I think he's here with us!" she smiles looking around before continuing.

"He married Valisa Dupont a French Lady from a wealthy family. Their family gifted and built this castle as a sign of their gratitude for Drake protecting Valisa. However, Valisa did not love Drake and apparently she became very spiteful towards him. She would cheat on him with the bakers boy who worked and lived in the home. She neglected their children making Drake exhausted" she starts and you feel a sort of overwhelming sadness wash over you. Enough for you to reach up and hold you chest.

"Vasila attempted to kill Drake but ended up mistakenly poisoning his sister Darcey. He ended the relationship with her, and she was livid. He moved on and married Bianca, who mysteriously died one night after saying for years she felt like she was being watched. People working in the castle at the time reported that Vasila killed Bianca out of jealously. Drake was in anguish and after that refused to marry again. He tried to protect Bianca as much as possible thinking Vasila was terrorizing her. After that its said that Drake either pushed her or she threw herself from the east tower, falling to her death" she finishes and you all look in shock.

"So he protects females that come into the castle from Vasila, who i'm guessing remains here as a negative energy because he feels like he needs to do what he couldn't do for Bianca?" you ask and a creak or footsteps was heard from above making all your heads snap up.

"I'd take that as a yes!" Colby laughs making you laugh as well.

"So this is an active place for all the spirits?" Sam asks looking around.

"Not all, but most. Drake can be found here along with his children who are also protectors of the home. Bianca is also here who is a very friendly and kind spirit. But its not just people who have lived in the castle. There's portals here too" the caretaker answers showing the mirrors that were facing each other.

"Woah?" you say stepping closer to Colby where the mirrors are.

"So what do we need to be wary of?" Colby asks.

"Vasila, of course. She doesn't like any-one male or female. She's been known to touch and scratch and make lots of loud noises but she's only in certain areas of the house like the tower and the pantry room" she explains.

"Because of her relationship with the baker boy?" Sam asks and she nods.

"Y/N you'll need to be extra careful of the baker boy" she admits and you look off to the left.

"Why?"

"He doesn't like ... dominant women!" she exclaims looking down, making you frown with a small laugh.

"I'm a dominant woman?" you ask with a laugh.

"Just like your presence, the tattoos, biker personality and just your aura she means, your head strong which is something Madison didn't like" the medium says for the first time since being here.

"Madison?" Sam asks.

"The baker boy, that was his name Madison!" he answers.

This would make for an interesting night!

Taglist:

@richardsamboramylove55 @braveangel777 @rockwyu @jada-lockwood @itzdarling

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 11

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

…

Diego was heated, he had a vengeful look in his eyes that showed that. I was asleep for most of the ride back to his house because of how early it was in the morning but when I was up I could hear him muttering things to himself. He wanted Hazel and Cha-Cha dead and I don’t blame him.

They took away his lover, I don’t know anything about their relationship but I could tell she meant everything to him. When you lose a lover you’ll do anything to bring them back and avenge them, even if they're not sensible. There was no one to stop me from the things I did when I lost Ben, but Diego doesn't have to go through the same thing.

I'll be here for him if he needs me and if he doesn't want to kill me too.

When he noticed I was awake his grip on the steering wheel was a clear indication that he was about to burst. I readied myself for anything thrown my way while activating my powers.

But he didn't do anything to harm me, instead, he took a deep breath. “What do you know about Five’s behavior since he’s been back?” Diego asked me.

“What?” I whispered confusedly.

He scoffs. "What has he been doing? You should know, since every time you leave the academy it's with him.”

Was that true? I can’t keep track of what I do anymore. There are too many side plots in my life taking away my thoughts from the actual big thing, the apocalypse.

Instead of making eye contact with him, I look out the window as I speak. “Look, Five’s not exactly an open book. The first time I found him outside of the academy, I was trying to go into Griddy’s. And what do I find? The boy surrounded by a bunch of dead soldiers?”

Diego hung onto every word I said, trying to piece together if I was as crazy as Five was or actually telling the truth. “Then he tells me to cut this tracker thing out of his arm. He blinks us into Vanya’s house to tell us the world is ending in a couple of days. I mean can you believe that?” I rambled.

He stops the car in the middle of the busy road, and the tires let out a horrible screech. “What did you say?” He whispers, turning to me slowly. Not caring about the blasting horns from cars around us.

“The world is ending in four days?”

..

Once we reached the dojo, Diego bolted out of the car not stopping for anything, not even questions from poor Al who was just wondering if he helped Eudora or not.

“Diego, don’t do something you’re going to regret. Five isn’t the enemy here.” I cut in front of his long stride.

“Well, he sure as hell isn’t innocent either.” He pushes past me and slams open his front door.

Luther and Five were in there just where we left them last night. And Five seemed to be finally sober and he sat upright on Diego’s bed, in a conversation with the man sitting in front of him.

“Piece of shit.” Diego roared out as he tried to tackle Five. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”

I grabbed onto the back of his shirt to pull him back but he slipped out of my grasp. But instead of landing on Five, Diego was met by the solid body of Luther, who stopped him. “Nope, let me— Get your ape hands off of me!” He screams.

Luther remains calm with Diego wiggling around in the air. “I can do this as long as it takes you to calm down.”

“Fine.” Diego pants and then gets dropped onto the ground. Luther stares at me from behind all of this. He gives me a what's going on type glance but all I can do is look at Five.

“Now, you wanna tell us what you’re talkin' about?” Luther asked.

“These two have been pretty busy since Five got back.” Diego starts. “They were in the middle of the shootout at Griddy’s, and then Five was at Gimble Brothers after the guys in masks attacked the Academy; looking for him.” He pieced together information that I told him during the car ride to put me and Five at the center of blame.

“Seriously Diego?” I ask.

“None of which is any of your concern.” Five spoke up for the first time since we walked in.

“It is now, they just killed my friend.”

Luther looks at me “You’re involved with this Y/n?”

Before I get a chance to defend myself I'm cut off by Five. “No, she’s not, I just needed her for her abilities.” Who answers too quickly for that to be true.

“Yes, her perfect abilities. Y/n, you wanna tell Luther what you told me.”

“I barely know the details, Diego, this isn’t my story to tell, ask the time traveler who was there!”

We were all rapid-fire arguing with one another. And no one could hear the exact words we were saying because of how much we spoke over each other. But overall was Diego not believing me, me trying to say how lost I was and Five explaining this was still none of his business. Luther just stared blankly.

“Hey, hey, hey hey,” Luther yells.

“What!” The three of us yell back.

“Shut the hell up. Five I want answers, who are these masked people and what does Y/n mean about the end of the world? I want these answers now, the two of you wait your turn.” Probably the first time Luther has gotten anyone to be quiet, he sounds like a leader.

Five looks down “They work for my former employer. A woman called The Handler. She sent them.. to stop me. Then, as soon as Diego’s friend got in their way, well, fair game.”

“That’s cruel Five.” I cut in.

Diego takes a step closer to him and gets up in his face. “And now they’re my fair game. And I'm gonna see to it they pay.” He grits his teeth.

“That would be a mistake, Diego. They’ve killed people far more dangerous than you.”

“Oh yeah well we’ll see about that.”

Diego was ready to take action and leave but Luther held him in place for the answer to his final question. “So when is it supposed to happen? This apocalypse.”

“Well I can’t give you the exact hour, but.. from what I could gather. We have four days left.”

Luther gawks at him. “Why didn't you mention it to all of us sooner?”

“It wouldn't have mattered.” He sighs.

“Of course, it would! We could’ve banded together and helped you try and stop this thing.”

“For the record, you already tried.”

“What do you mean?” Diego asks grumpily.

Five is quiet, he tries to find the best way to say this so that his brothers don’t go crazy. “I found you guys. Your bodies.”

“We all die?” I questioned. That couldn’t have been right, in his journal someone was alive. But I couldn’t make out the name since Diego pulled all of us away to find Five.

“Horribly.” Five says, “all except for one.” He gazes at me.

My body shutters. “The one you wrote about in your book. The one who was still alive in all of the rummage, that was me?”

Why didn't my future self come back with Five to this timeline. What happened?

He answered my suspicions like he was reading my mind. “You were dying slowly Y/n, whoever ended the world did more damage to you than the regular human. We were together for a while and you aged the same as me, slowly. But when The Handler came to me, you didn’t want anything to do with it. Said you had gone through enough pain.”

“I don’t know what happened to you after.” Five said with an undertone of sadness, the best he could probably give without sobbing.

I think I have an idea what happened, I told myself I would never do it. But life has been hard ever since I was young, especially after losing Ben. In the future, I think I killed myself and forced my body to not heal.

This is what Reginald feared I'd do, but even if he made my blood into a healing solution he wouldn't be there to use it on me. It’s a scary thought, but I won't bring it up to them.

Five went on to explain that we worked as a team since all of our bodies were lying in rubble. And the MeriTech eye was worn by the person we were fighting since it was in Luther’s clasped hand. And then he told us about where he worked, the commission.

He went to all kinds of different time periods and killed people who messed with the timeline, and in exchange, he would eventually get to go home. But while being sent out on a mission to kill John F. Kennedy decided that he was going to disobey. And tried to get back to us on his own, so he could save us and save the world.

That's what we saw during Reginald’s funeral. But he messed up the equations and got stuck as a kid. Luther looked on in horror at Five's actions but this only seemed to fuel Diego's rage against Hazel and Cha-Cha.

Me though, I just wanted to go hug Benny.

“So where do we go from now?” I quietly ask the group.

“I'm tracking down those lunatics,” Diego mutters while leaving the room. Luther gasps. “I gotta find Allison and tell her.” Leaving me and Five, in Diego’s room.

“I just have one more question,” I say. “Did I tell you who ends the world?”

“No, all you said was, it wasn't her fault.” he says disappointed. I rack my brain trying to understand what that meant. I know this person personally.

“I know this doesn't make sense, I wish I knew more too. The best thing we can do is keep trying to solve this.” He says.

“I can’t go back to the academy right now, Five. Diego needs someone, even if he doesn't want it to be me. I need to do something.”

He sighs. “You always feel the need to help us Y/n, and what about yourself? Diego will chase you away and make you feel small then what, you're gonna force yourself to help him anyways?”

“I know I can’t fix everything, I can't heal emotions. But I can give someone an avenue to take their feelings out. Even if that's at my own expense. I don’t care.”

Five eyes widen when he looks at me. “Y/n..”

“It’ll be fine, trust me. And if it doesn't work, I'll come back to the academy and find you okay?” I say as I try to lighten the mood.

He only nods but lets me go anyway. I give him a meaningless smile as I leave the room, knowing I shared too much information and gave away a part of myself I hoped others would never comment on.

..

I let her leave to help him, even though it's going to amount to nothing. I just couldn’t help it, her kind but harmful manner got to me, and she’s too nice for her own good. Just like she was in the apocalypse..

But they had their differences too, even though their brains only differed a couple of days from each other. That Y/n lost her spark and this one is slowly draining herself of it. Delores tells me not to think too much about her, but how can I not? I left her there to die. And it's haunted me ever since.

I remember that day when I found her in the rummage. I was young and scared since I couldn’t blink back home. It took me a while to recognize whose body lay with my siblings, but it was the newest addition to the fucked up regiment Reginald made.

She was faintly moving before she started to cough up blood and debris. She was also very malnourished and scared, so once she was able to get up we started to talk. Not about the apocalypse because every time I asked she dodged the topic.

We stayed together in the wasteland of crushed buildings and fire, eating scraps that made her throw up. Her body wasn’t retaining any food, sleep, or healing abilities but she always told me she was okay.

I caught her a few times talking to herself, about my siblings and how sorry she was that she couldn’t save them from her. It was just us, and Delores for so many years.

I aged into an old man at the same time she did. But during that, she stayed small and weak. Like she was on the brink of dying, a fact I didn't want to think about. I couldn’t survive without her, I'd go crazy.

Then The Handler arrived and offered us both a chance to get out of there. I looked at her for an answer but she looked lost. I was glad to get out of this hellhole but weary for the future with this not trustworthy company. But I had her, the two of us could get through it.

Instead of sharing my excitement, she tells me to go without her. Saying that she’s likely to die anyway and that she’s tired of chasing a perfect world that doesn't exist. I explained to her I'd go through that with her but she’s dead set on going.

“My life is over Five.” She wheezes. “And I'm okay with that, I got to live it with you and everyone else. But you, you can keep going. Avenge this world and maybe someday we can be happy again.”

I try to speak but she cuts me off. “Maybe if I'm lucky enough, I'll finally get to see Ben!”

That broke me the most and with a lot of convincing from her, I was finally ready to take The Handlers offer. After goodbyes, she hugs me. “When did you get so tall?”

It was our final laugh together.

Before I left she whispered something to me away from prying eyes. “Promise me something Five.”

“Anything you want.”

“Promise me, you’ll break out of this bullshit and go back to the past.”

“What?”

“Listen. Go back to the past, how I don’t know but you're smart enough to figure it out. And stop all of this from happening, I know that's a huge thing to ask. But at least give it a try. Get back to us, get back to me, okay?”

“Of course, I'll try.” I sniffled.

“Don’t cry, do your best, live your life and try not to think about me too much.” Even then she still found a way to laugh.

“Now go before I cry too!”

She never wanted me to see her sad, or hurting even though I knew every move she made broke another part of herself. Y/n gave me one more hug before I stepped through The Handler’s briefcase portal.

I spent years trying to forget about a woman I should’ve never met. A woman I wouldn’t meet again until fulfilling her wish of going back to the past. But that version of her barely knew me, and all the things we did together. But that didn’t stop me from including her in all I did, to track down the person who ended the world. Even if she would never know about the love I had for that woman.

I was going to save my siblings and her from the apocalypse. Because I promised her I would.

…

I tried smth different this chapter tell me what u think!

Taglist: @aloflapse @isomehowexist @elenalovestoread @miscrying @gabriella-aesthetic @solarbeanz @theoriginalone1111 @water-hemlock18 @tialovesyoutoo @dakotapaigelove

[elsecrytt]

gojo only ever being needed and not wanted broke my hearttt noooo. i just love gojo x mundanity so so much. all he wants in life is a quiet peaceful life with someone who just sees him without his six eyes. there will always be something so bittersweet about that mostly cuz he'll never allow himself to have that life completely:/

i've seen that one post going around that's like "“if i cannot be wanted, i will be needed and if i cannot be needed, let me be used until there’s nothing left of me” and although i don't think gojo is actually that self-sacrificing, i do see a bit of him in there.

like, we know for sure he treasures "youth" and in particular his own "youth" very deeply. we see the s2 opening with him in high school with geto and the other students, doing just regular things, looking genuinely happy and having tons of fun.

gojo used to smile and laugh with people. people who were his peers. and maybe that was mostly possible because they were peers then, instead of him being the pinnacle of sorcerer society. when kenjaku shows up he gets a minute-long internal flashback of all those old times. it meant a lot to him.

on the other hand, though, gojo is absolutely a bit of a bully deep down. he was still a jerk sometimes in high school (though he DID have a good heart - hence the thing with riko) and he clearly has fun when he's fighting curses lol. he takes a lot of joy in his power, and why wouldn't he? it's kinda all he's got going for him. self-fulfilling prophecy and all.

ngl a bunch of the lines in that piece came from this yandere!gojo wip that's still in the drafts. basically gojo wants a non-sorcerer to play house with and he's ecstatic about this whole "relationship building" thing. he has no hobbies bc everything is easy for him, but his personality - and the circumstances - make winning your love an actual challenge that he can have fun with.

but internally his logic is actually kinda sad and understandable. gojo is worried he'll go insane like geto did. lose all sympathy for regular people, and for other sorcerers, too - maybe his own students.

and if gojo loses it, who's going to stop him?

if gojo loses it, and gives up on humanity like geto did, then what was the point of killing geto in the first place?

that can't happen if he has a non-sorcerer lover. and honestly? i do think gojo genuinely does like people, in the general sense. he likes getting specialty sweets and playing baseball. he takes his students out for meals. the memories we see of his youth? him in the arcade, walking home from school, eating out with his friends.

i think he likes ordinary, mundane things a lot, even if he loves the other parts of his life. he probably loves bugging baristas and fast food employees and passerbys in his life. he is lonely at the top, but with regular people, he can pretend he isn't.

it's tragic, but in a way, it's also an issue of his own making. i don't buy gojo's whole "you can admire a blooming flower, but you can't ask it to understand you" crap. gojo, loneliness and isolation are a part of the human condition. you are NOT the first or only person who feels this way. i'm optimistic that he could get through it if he tried... if gege didn't have it out for him LMAO

[mywons]

❛ boyfriend!jungwon headcanons.

▸ ִֶָ tags [ boyfriend ] jungwon x reader, fluff + mentions of kissing + cute wonnie + just a happy relationship + mentions of petnames. warnings! && possible warning : very brief (2) mentions of marriage + mentions of jealousy / possessiveness. ✿ 0.6k words —

## HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT !

won is very . . . loveable

he's super affectionate & loveydovey, he does any & everything to show how deep his love for you runs

dates with him are usually full of spontaneity. quick & fun picnics, a playful movie night with takeout

out of all of enhypen, i think jungwon is the second most type to date-to-marry (after mr. husband material park jongseong). so while he's very fun and playful, he's serious about you too

he wants you to know that he sees a future with you and if you don't see that with him, what's the point?

likes to keep polaroids of you scattered across his room's walls

collects the silliest little trinkets & souvenirs whenever the group goes someplace new, only to bring them back to you

the type of bf to text you at 3am and ask if you wanna raid the nearest corner store

kisses you very often. as a greeting, as a goodbye, as a reward, bc you look cute, he literally just loves kissing you

doesn't get jealous easily but so so so clingy when he does ,, will pull you towards him and refuse to let go

so so so so caring, smothers you with all the love in the world whenever you're feeling down :(

petnames include: lovey & pretty baby

likes to sleep with his head on your chest so that he can hear the rhythm of your heartbeat <3

definitely randomly calls you at all times of the day, just saying he misses you

^^ "i called you earlier why didn't you answer :(" "bc i'd literally just left your place" "so..????"

he's like ur MY lover u need to be attached to my hip at all times bc ur my baby !!!!!!

and he's so real for that honestly

i think he to an extent feels an overwhelming sense of protectiveness for you and because of that, he tends to overthink ab if even the smallest things he does are affecting you negatively

constantly making sure you're happy/content in your relationship, asking if there's anything else you'd like for him to do

he's just super careful with you

nd so supportive oh em gee !! if ur an idol like him, he's at every single show he can make it to. cheering you on, shouting "thats my baby 🫵"

if you're interested in smthn else/neither of you are idols, he's still definitely supporting you in whatever interest you have

constantly complimenting you and praising how your brain works. he admires everything about you

sometimes buys stuff in a bigger/smaller size so that he has an excuse to wear it and then give it to you

^^ "oh it doesn't really fit me so here you go :]" knowing damn well he just wants you to smell like him

definitely competitive when it comes to you. "oh yeah? well my lover can do this and this"

forever seeking any reasons to make you feel good about yourself

likes when you play with his hair after a long day or even sing to him, ironically.

really just enjoys the sound of your voice

would love to adopt a bunch of cats and grow old with you <3

never is the one to end any contact with you first. oh you guys are on the phone? better hang up first bc he isn't. won't even pull from a hug first, and would run out of oxygen if it meant keeping his lips on yours instead of resorting to pulling away

sees himself marrying you has thought about it plenty of times and voiced his ideas for the wedding, resulting in teasing from the members

eats ingredients out of your food that he knows you don't enjoy so you won't have to pick the pieces out !!

likes being called honey

need him to be my boyfriend immediately

mywons © 2023 ## please do not plagiarize my works.

[maybege]

Welcome Home

Summary: Your favourite time of day is when Paz comes home.

Pairing: roommate!Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.5k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, Free Use Arrangement AU, Roommate AU, explicit sexual content, oral (f and m receiving), (un)requited pining, dom!Paz, sub!Reader, size kink, lil bit of cockwarming, dirty talk and a little bit of verbal humiliation

Long time, no see when it comes to this AU! I love how I said I would only write little blurbs for them and now this is the second piece over 3k 😂 Anyway, I hope you all had a nice weekend! Let me know what you think of this story in a reblog or a comment, they are truly the best fuel to keep writing 🥰

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Asking your roommate for a free-use arrangement was the bravest and best thing you had ever done.

Watching Paz Vizsla getting more and more confident as a dominant, however, was the most beautiful thing you ever got to witness. And you never wanted to share with anyone. Because while you had suspected (known, really) that he was a natural dominant when you first met, he always made it a point to be careful with you.

And he truly. He was so careful, so gentle and made sure you felt safe, happy and satisfied before he tried new things. Even then, said new things were introduced slowly and with care. And every time he did you felt like you were falling in lust a little bit more.

“There is something very peaceful about not having to worry about how someone fucks you because you know they do it right,” your friend Chants had once said about one of his situationships. Now, years later, you finally understood what he meant.

Because Paz Vizsla, your roommate, your friend, the man of your dreams (and also your heart but it would take time for you to admit that out loud) fucked you so good that you could trust him to fuck you any time he wanted.

Like now, weeks after your initial conversation, when you were standing in the kitchen making dinner.

Paz always came home after you and though you usually made your own meals, sometimes you cooked for each other. This was your plan today, too. You wanted to spend as little time as possible on chores and as much time as possible … together.

Wearing only a very long shirt and lace panties, paired with the fuzzy socks to keep your feet from freezing on the tiled floor, you were jamming to the newest hits on the charts when you could hear the front door open.

It did not take long before two warm hands landed on your upper thighs, a large body hovering behind you. His stubble ghosted over your neck and you tilted your head to the side, allowing his chin to rest on your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you asked breathlessly, watching as his hands moved to the front of your thighs, pulling you back against him. His body was large and warm. Even the cool fall air caught on his clothes did nothing against the simmering heat that started in your belly.

“Just saying hello,” he murmured, his hands bunching up your shirt. His lips landed on the spot where your shoulder met your neck and you hummed. “Turn the stove off,” he ordered and you did without questioning him. The sauce was almost done anyway.

His mouth never left your neck as he dragged you away from the counters. “How was your day?” he asked you, turning you around so you were facing him, “Did the presentation go well?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, your brain fuzzy from his soft kisses, the blinding grin on his face and his rough hands on your thighs. He crowded you against the table and you could hear the newspapers fall to the floor before he pushed you on the flat wooden surface.

“Paz,” you giggled, your hands buried in the soft hairs at the back of his neck, “What are you doing?”

You squirmed when you finally came face to face, his large body hovering above yours. He had not shaved in a while and looked like a lumberjack in his flannel shirt and the black one underneath it. His breath washed over your face and your finger brushed over the crinkles next to his eyes.

“I’m eating you out, what does it look like?” he grinned, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before his mouth started wandering down down down.

“Paz,” you whined, your back arching off the back, “Paz, I need you.”

“Patience, sweetheart,” he teased you, looking up from where his fingers were circling your nipples over the fabric of your shirt. “Let me play with you.”

And playing with you was what he did. He mouthed at your tits through your shirt before gathering it up, his hands gliding over your thighs and belly before finally landing on your chest. You were already dripping wet before his fingers pinched your nipples, p

His mouth closed around your right nipple and when his tongue flicked against the sensitive peak, your hands flew to his head, trying to keep him there or get him to where you needed him most, you were not sure.

“You're so good for me,” he murmured against your sternum, “Such a pretty little slut just for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, spreading your legs for him. The chair scraped over the tiles as he sat down on the kitchen chair and you squeaked when his hands gripped your hips, pulling you to the edge.

“Yes, what?” he rumbled, his dark eyes fixated on where his thumbs dipped into the crease between your legs. The contact made you shudder in the best way and you bit your lips, trying not to come from just the barest touches.

“Yes, I am your pretty little slut,” you repeated his words, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks as you stared at the stained kitchen ceiling.

“Lift,” he tapped your butt, his fingers digging into the soft dips of your hips and you did, letting him pull the lacy underwear down your legs. You could hear the flimsy fabric land somewhere on the floor to your right but you could not care less when you had this dream of a man between your legs.

“Spread for me,” he instructed, his voice gruff, “Let me see you.”

You could not remember an instance where a man had wanted to look at you like that and, just for a moment, you found yourself a little shy.

“Nuh-uh”, he commented your hesitation, “None of that. Let me see that pussy, sweetheart. It’s mine to play with, isn’t it?”

His words sparked heat into your core and you nodded, spreading your legs wider apart. As if to reward you, his fingers swiped through your wet folds, circling your clit until a trembling gasp left your mouth.

“Yeah, it is,” he murmured as if to himself, his thumbs spreading you wide apart. The feeling of his hot breath on your pussy made you had you like putty in his hands.

“Paz, please …”

“No begging, sweetheart,” he chastised you with a grin, “Let me enjoy, hm?”

Before you could answer (or, let's be real, beg) his mouth closed over your clit and sucked. Your eyes rolled back and you did not know what to do with your hands. Your right one gripped the edge of the table while the other found Paz’s back of the head, your fingers burying in the soft dark curls on his head.

His hands splayed on your hips, pulling you into his mouth as his tongue dipped into your folds. Everything he did, and soon, you were on the precipice of something great, something wonderful, something –

“Paz!” you gasped, your hands tightening and your back arching, “Right there, oh! P-please -!”

He hummed against you, the vibrations doing something delicious to your clit and then his finger joined, steadily brushing over your opening just the way you liked, and you were free-falling, unable to do anything but chant his name over and over again.

Paz did not let up, though he did slow down a little, pressing soft kisses to your cunt and inner thighs until you felt like you could breathe again.

 “Wow,” you breathed, your chest heaving as you started at the ceiling, “That was … “

“I know,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your inner thigh before slipping your legs off his shoulders, “Got you all come drunk already, huh?”

You wanted to have a witty comeback to that, you really did. But Paz was rising to his full height now, standing between your legs fully clothed while your shirt was still bunched up above your tits and he looked glorious like that.

Inevitably, your gaze drifted lower to where he was straining against his jeans. You watched with a racing heart as his hand rubbed over the bulge and if your legs weren’t still trembling from your orgasm, you would have dropped to your knees and begged him to take him into your mouth.

But even without words, Paz seemed to get you.

“Not today, love,” he murmured, the nickname sending a thrill through you, “I’m gonna have you suck my cock another time.”

“Thank the stars,” you breathed out a laugh, “I might have fallen asleep with your cock in my mouth.”

Your laugh dissipated at the intense look in his eyes. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he hummed, leaning closer against you as his hands caressed the side of your legs.

You tried to ignore the thrum of pleasure the suggestion caught in you, still in awe at the deep dark fantasies he awakened in you. Paz looked very satisfied, very cocky and it didn’t help that your legs were still shaking and his fingers tapped under your chin, making you look up at him. “Good girl,” he praised you with soft eyes and kissed you, long and slow.

Leaning your body weight against him, you wrapped your arms around his neck, enjoying the feel of his tongue against yours, the stubble rubbing over your chin. Kissing Paz was everything you had ever fantasised it to be and more.

Which also explained the pout on your lips when he pulled away from you.

“I, uh, I got something for you,” he explained, his lips swollen from your kisses. Too distracted by the sight of him, you only realised what he had said until he presented you with a little box. You recognised the logo from the jewellery store in the mall and your heart skipped a beat and then completely stopped when you saw the gold chain nestled within the black velvet.  

“Paz,” you gasped, still reeling from the orgasm, and brushed over the delicate chain links, “That is beautiful.”

“I thought this could be your … the necklace, you know?”

You nodded, remembering the signal you had agreed upon to make your little arrangement easier.

“It's like a choker.”

Like a collar.

Paz seemed to know what you were thinking because he suddenly became bashful. He rubbed the back of his neck, the free hand still on your thigh, “You can – you can choose something else, if you like, of course. But I saw it in the mall at lunch and I just … knew.”

“I love it,” you hurried to say, fiddling to get the necklace out of the box, “Can you put it on?”

His body got closer as he leaned to look behind you. Thick fingers brushed over your neck as he closed the tiny clasp of the delicate metal. It lay perfectly at the base of your neck, golden and frail, perfect for everyday wear. And yet, it made you feel sex. Wanted. Pretty.

“Thank you,” your fingers ran over the delicate band, “I love it, Paz, truly.”

“And remember –“ he started.

“I can always take it off whenever I want to,” you finished the sentence for him, a knowing smile on your lips. He wore the matching one, his hand gently closing around your throat as he kissed you again.

And just like the choker, something in your heart locked into place.

*

As time went on, you could sense how he grew more confident and self-assured in your new arrangement and you, in turn, felt like you could finally breathe. You wore the choker day and night – a circumstance that neither of you commented on but you were sure he noticed.

It wasn’t that you felt like you had to. You knew that Paz would always respect your choices. But when you had first thought about taking it off, it just had not felt right. You liked the arrangement you had. You thrived in it.

You thrived in coming home and being dragged into his bed or him coming home and coming straight to you. That must be your favourite part, really. Him coming home and using you any which way he liked. Both of you ending up on the couch afterwards, talking about how your respective days had been.

It was like that today. It had been raining and you had used your day off to curl up on the couch and read one of the books on your tbr list. Slow music was playing in the background and you were pondering whether to light up one of the scented candles your colleagues had gotten you for one of your birthdays when you noticed the time.

Paz was usually home by now and even though you were not his girlfriend (which was totally absolutely perfectly fine with you, of course), you grew worried when the hours passed, the sky grew darker and no Paz showed up.

You were way too eager when you finally heard the key in the lock. Sitting up from your place on the couch, your book completely forgotten, you felt bad when you saw the grimace on his face.

His steps were heavy and raindrops gathered at the tips of his curls. Piece after piece of clothing came off until he was working on his belt and you knew what was about to happen.

“Come here,” he instructed calmly, his eyes fixated on your necklace want you to suck my cock, okay?”

With a quick nod, you set your book aside and walked over to where he sat down in the armchair. The image of his big hands getting rid of his belt and freeing his cock, paired with his stoic silence had your thighs clenching. He was already half-hard and you could not wait to get your mouth on him. How could  

He spread his legs so you could scoot in between them and you did, dropping to your knees on the beige carpet. “Welcome home,” you whispered before giving him a careful lick.

“Stars, that’s just what I needed,” he sighed, his hand cupping your cheek, “that pretty little mouth on my cock. You’re doing so well for me, aren’t you?”

You slipped your mouth on his shaft and hummed around him in agreement. He was growing in size and your jaw already started to ache as you tried to push him to the back of your throat as far as you could take him. Which wasn’t very far, to be honest.

Wriggling your tongue under his head, you pulled off him until only his tips remained. He was heavy and hot and your hands found their way to his thighs, trying to steady yourself as you sucked on him. The taste of his precoma was salty on your taste buds and you pushed forward again, your brows drawing together in a frown when your throat closed up again.

“I know I’m very big, sweetheart,” Paz cooed, leaning forward. His hand wandered to the back of your head and you felt surrounded by him in the best way, “Can you try to take me a little deeper? Can I try to fuck your mouth?”

One of his rules was verbal consent and so you pulled off him again, taking in deep breaths before you managed a happy, “Yes.” You smoothed your cheek against his thick thigh, remembering the time he had you get him off by just sucking on his balls, “Please fuck my mouth, Paz.”

Paz did not smile but he looked relieved. Relaxation took over his expression as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders and that was even more of a reward than feeling him come on your tongue.

“You are perfect,” he praised as he gave himself a few pumps, “When I am too deep you are going to tap my thigh three times, alright, sweetheart? Just like we practiced.”

You nodded eagerly, demonstrating how you had done it before by tapping his inner thigh three times. He hummed in approval before cupping your face. You straightened your posture, the long shirt dropping over your ass as you leaned forward just as he pushed his cock inside you.

His thrusts were deep and strong and tears sprang into your eyes as you relaxed your throat as far as it would go. Neither of you broke eye contact and there was something so sexy about seeing him in merciless control, making use of your throat as much as you would let him.

“One day I'm gonna see how deep I can go,” he groaned as you choked on him, “Have your head hanging off the edge of my bed, see if we can make that pretty throat bulge, make that choker stretch, hm?”

He continued thrusting, the sounds of your gagging seemingly only encouraging him and making you wetter than before. You must have looked like a mess by the time he pulled out of you.

“Want to come on your face,” he announced and your hand wrapped around his shaft immediately. He was slick with your saliva as you jerked him off and not for the first time did you wonder how you had managed to fit him inside your mouth at all.

A rough hand wrapped around yours, squeezing it tighter and soon, Paz jerked himself off with your hand. The sounds were filthy and forbidden and all you could think was that you had never seen anything hotter than Paz completely out of control.

“I’m close, sweetheart,” he warned you, his voice hoarse, and you opened your mouth in anticipation. Your eyes stayed on him, but the contact broke when he threw his head back. He looked completely undone and the knowledge that you did that, you made him lose control, put a smile on your face.

Ropes of come splatted onto your face and neck and you pushed out your tongue, trying to catch a taste of him. His hand made you milk him of all he was worth and with the tears across your cheeks, the drool dripping down your chin and now the come over your face and chest, you felt deliciously filthy.

“Pretty as a picture,” he mumbled when his movements let up, his chest still heaving. He must have had a meeting, you realised when you spotted his unusual-for-him getup. He was wearing black slacks instead of jeans and a white dress shirt with the first few buttons undone. He looked all proper and put together if it weren’t for his softening cock in his (and your) hand. And you just sat here in your lounge shirt, splattered in come and lips swollen from sucking his cock.

“Why don’t you take a picture then?” you asked, cheeks flushing with the idea of him actually doing that. Why did the thought of Paz putting you, covered in his come, as his phone background make your heart skip a beat?

“No need,” he winked, “If I want to see you like this I'm just going to have you suck my cock again.”

You gasped in shock while he laughed, tucking away his cock which almost made you pout.

“You good, babe?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled still flustered at how cocky he was with no effort at all. Yet there you were, flustered, needy, out of breath and happier than you had ever been, trying to seem like his proximity did not make you think of futures, houses, barbeques in a garden and cuddles, “I was thinking of ordering pizza today?”

Paz nodded, getting up. You were still kneeling on the floor, finding yourself mesmerised by his size, your gaze following him up, up, up and up until you met his eyes. Maybe you were still somewhere off in subspace, in that little niche in your head where you were not quite ready to let go of this moment between the two of you, where you were not quite ready to … return to everyday life.

With one look at you, Paz must have come to the same conclusion because he knelt in front of you with a soft handkerchief, gently cleaning you off, and you found yourself leaning into him.  

“How about,” he cupped your clean face and pressed a kiss slow to your jaw, “Ordering pizza and a movie? We can cuddle and if you want to we can try that thing you’ve been pretending to google secretly?”

Your eyes widened with surprise – not at being caught, it was only a matter of time, after all, but at the enthusiasm and confidence with which he suggested it. “Cock warming?”

The grin he replied with made his entire face light up. “Yes,” he confirmed, his tongue licking over his lower lip, “And if you’re real good I might even let you come.”

Before you could reply, he pulled you in for another kiss that had you both tumbling to the floor. You shrieked with laughter, loving the way his hands already dipped under your shirt, and how your legs fell over his hips.

This type of homecoming was way better than what you had before.

[linomilkers]

Minho x Reader [Warnings: dry humping, a filthy blow job, probably some medical inaccuracies, Minho calls Felix Yongbok bc canon and that's his Yongbokkie]

Note: Helloooo, this is my first time writing in this style! Just trying something different for this particular piece. Also, I started writing this before we found out about Minho's hand, so I promise I wasn't making light of his injury! Just a coincidence!

Let me know if you like it!!

Minho who hurt both of his wrists somehow, maybe it was a misstep in dance practice that sent him to the floor, or a stumble at the airport. His wrists are sprained, he's in two clunky arm braces to keep them still, and he's not meant to participate in any strenuous exercise that would involve movement of them. It sucked, being hurt, and he was missing schedules, he would fall behind in learning the new choreography, and he was setting the comeback back by a couple of weeks -- but it wasn't the worst thing. He could use a small break, even if it's just a week or two, of resting and taking it easy after nonstop months of producing content.

Minho who enjoys the break for about a week before he started getting a little stir crazy. Eating was a chore, a true test to his patience instead of being something gratifying and he couldn't cook much. He could move his wrists a little so that the muscles wouldn't weaken from not using them, but barely enough to eat, let alone prepare a full meal. Everyone else in the dorm was so busy that nobody was really cooking, so living off take out has made his face swollen and a bit puffy. Which he wouldn't mind as much, if not for how annoying Seungmin's been with pinching his cheeks and cooing at him for it. He can't even properly exact revenge and the creatine is taking full advantage of that.

Minho who can't touch himself properly and is starting to go crazy because of that too. He doesn't have to do it every day like some (namely Jisung, the little pervert), but he does it often enough that a week and a half in he's starting to feel it. Every morning he's waking up with something stiff between his legs, and he's helpless to it. Minho believes he has enough mental fortitude to look past his horniness, because no orgasm would be satisfying if he couldn't properly use his hands. He could wait it out, the braces would be off within two more weeks, he'd be fine.

Minho who breaks the day after he'd made a pact with himself to hold out. In the daze of his morning wood and being two seconds from sleep again, he rolled onto his front on his bed. Minho bunches his blankets up into a wad, then presses into it, a reedy sound leaving his mouth, unfamiliar to his own ears. It feels good, really, really fucking good, but it isn't enough. Still, it doesn't stop him from trying. He ruts pitifully into the blankets, chasing after a release he knew he wouldn't find, leaking precum in his briefs. It's embarrassing, how badly he needs it, how desperately he's trying for it -- but there's nobody home. Everyone left early this morning, so he was safe to do this for a little while, until he gets frustrated and takes a cold shower instead.

Minho, who forgot Yongbok's friend had spent the night and had promised to wait around for him to get back from schedules so they could go shopping, or out to eat, or whatever. The friend who Yongbok had made promise she would bring Minho breakfast in the morning, so that he wasn't fumbling around the kitchen himself. Minho had told him that he didn't need that, that he wouldn't want his friend going out of her way for him, but he refused to listen, and so did she. Which was surprising, she's usually pretty quiet, but the sudden headstrong attitude started him into silence and acceptance. "No earlier than 7AM," he told her, "I'll at least try to sleep in."

Minho, who doesn't hear the perfunctory knock on the door before it opens at 7:05 (of course she is close with Yongbok, because he barely waits half a second before opening the door after a halfhearted knock as well -- he doesn't care what he sees when he ambles in, usually caught in his own head about whatever he'd come for in the first place), and only realizes that Y/N is standing there with a bowl steaming in her hands when she says, "Oh, shit, sorry," as if this wasn't embarrassing enough, Minho has to let go of the pillow he'd caught between his teeth, "I should've waited for you to reply."

Minho, who knocks his head against the mattress and gives a disbelieving laugh, because of course this would happen to him. He's at the edge of his rope, he just wants to cum, and he can't even do that without being caught humping the bed like a desperate dog. He's caught between wanting to apologize to her for seeing him like this and wanting to scold her for walking in, in the first place. He doesn't get a chance to do either because Y/N offers her help instead, gentle and not in the least bit suggestive sounding, despite what she was suggesting, "I can help you out, if you want," she told him, "Yongbokkie thinks my mouth is really good."

Minho, who really doesn't have a chance to consider what that means, because since when was Yongbok getting his dick wet? Is that why he's always so calm? How long had she been doing that? And would he be okay with her offering that to Minho? Wouldn't he be upset? Or were they not together like that? He makes a confused sound in his throat, nervous to turn around where he knew she'd be able to see how hard he was, but too mortified to stay in the position he's in. So he flipped onto his back, and tries not to wince when her gaze zeros in on his cock -- so fierce, he's sure that he could feel it burning him, "I told him to ask if you needed help, but he didn't listen to me," Y/N continued to say, "Swore up and down about how you don't like asking for help, that you'd have to really need it to accept it, and I think humping your blankets is really needing it, right?" It was a fair assessment, and he feels his ears get hot, "I'll help."

Minho, who agrees because. . .well, why shouldn't he? She's offering, and he's hard and horny and wet, and he probably isn't thinking the clearest. He'd never thought of Y/N in that way, she's always just been Yongbokkie's sweet friend and that's it, but now he can't get the image of her with his cock in his mouth (or Yongbok's cock, for that matter) out of his head. With great effort, he scoots himself up the bed, among his pillows with his back against the headboard while Y/N got herself comfortable between his spread legs. She doesn't bother to take his briefs off at first, burying her nose against the hard swell beneath the fabric and breathing in deep. His face feels like its on fire, because who just does that? And why is he so turned on by it?

Minho, whose mind is spinning because this sweet girl's mouth is made for more than gentle compliments and clunky sentences in a language Yongbok is working hard to help her with. It's made for wetting the thin fabric of his light colored briefs, sucking opened mouth kisses that add to the growing wet spot on him. He has a hard time figuring out what was from him and what was from her, but it hardly matters. He throbs and twitches with every suckle and lick while she saturates the cotton. And when he is about to start whining at her for teasing him, her fingers dip beneath the elastic and fish his cock out from the briefs. A small, contented sigh leaves her mouth, like she'd been waiting all day to get her mouth on him. The head is flushed ruddy and dripping, shiny with his own slick and she shows her tongue to wet her lips, and he's throbbing again.

Minho, who can only gasp when she says, "You really needed this, right? I would have helped sooner. I like drinking cum from pretty boys," because what is Yongbok teaching her? But before he can ask, she's swallowing his cock down in one go and he cries out like he'd never been touched in his life. It sure feels like that right now, and the tight, wet heat of her mouth makes his brain melt, and any hope for thoughts that surpass, this is good, this is good, this is good leave his head. His brain to mouth filter evaporates, he spreads his legs further, "Fuck," his eyes roll back, because if he looks at her then he'll cum and he wanted to enjoy this for a little while at least, "Who taught you to be this naughty?"

Minho, who wasn't really looking for an answer, but Y/N slips off to tongue at his slit any way, then drools a glob of spit on his shaft and fucks him with her hand, "Yongbokkie," she replied without thought, "He trained my throat really well, now I can take all of you pretty deep." All of them? He can't clarify because she's sucking his balls into her mouth and soaking them with her tongue and his mind fizzles out again. It's too much, all of it, and she does it with a practiced ease of someone who is taking a lot of cocks in her mouth and his mind is reeling with it. She slobbers and drools and sucks until she's licking back up to the tip, taking him down, down, down, until the head nudges at the back of her constricting throat.

Minho, who comes with barely a warning scraping away from his tongue but Y/N doesn't mind. She withdraws just enough so it fills up the pocket of her cheek, squeezing the base, working him through it. He thinks his vision whites out for a second, he's almost positive he might have momentarily blacked out from the intensity of it. It burns from his fingertips up through his chest, spiraling through his whole body like summer storm lightening. It's a lot, his muscles lock up, he thinks if there were any time to understand the universe it would be now after he just flooded her mouth.

Minho, who isn't sure what to expect exactly, but certainly didn't expect her to crawl back up his body, tilt his chin toward her mouth and fix their lips together. He didn't expect her to push his cum into his mouth either, in a kiss so filthy and gross he knows he's going to be touching himself to it for months to come. At least he doesn't taste all that bad, as she makes him share, and he moans pretty pitifully against her tongue.

Minho, who finally opens his eyes after some time and is greeted with a smile, "Good news is, we were quick about it so your food is still warm," she tells him, "Should I feed it to you? I don't mind." And who would have thought that, with his softening cock against his thigh, and his wrists in braces, that Y/N would offer him something like that too? She'd already done too much, hasn't she? More than she'd been requested to, should he really let her feed him? Or was she joking?

Minho, who quickly finds that she isn't joking at all actually. She doesn't wait for him to answer before she's offering him rice and a sliver of egg from his bowl, holding it out toward his mouth. Minho parts his lips, she presses it inside, then gives an even bigger, triumphant smile when he hums at the taste, "It's good, hm? I made it myself."

Minho, who decides that he needs to know more about her, needs to implant himself deeper into her life, needs to ask Yongbok where he found her and if he's willing to share.

[tobysbliss]

like old times

lee!blitzø, ler!fizzarolli :)

i love them so much i am so glad theyre friends again actually. theyre besties and i love them. this was not proof read so if theres mistakes then OOPS !! (haha u get the reference ? get it ?? cause. cause oops is a helluva boss episode. and its the one where fizz and blitzø made up. haha. yeah)

this fic is intended to be viewed as platonic.

N$FW BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST OR MY BLOG!

Blitzø would never admit it aloud, but he couldn’t be happier that him and Fizzarolli are friends again. It felt like a piece of him had gone missing, then found it’s way back to him.

Blitzø decided to have him and the I.M.P team take a day off, allowing them to do as they please for entertainment that day. And for Blitzø, that meant inviting Fizzarolli over.

The jester admittedly was confused, but honestly, so was Blitzø. How was he even supposed to word that message? “Hey, wanna hangout?” It sounded odd to him, at least since it had been, what, 15 years?

Or maybe he was just really, really socially awkward.

He settled for calling Fizz and, very awkwardly, inviting him over with strings of words that just barely made sense; Something Fizz fully intended on teasing Blitzø for later.

.

.

.

Fizz barged into the door of the I.M.P headquarters, making a strong entrance as always. Blitzø nearly flipped out of his chair.

“You invited me to where you work, really?” Fizz looked around as if unimpressed. “Do you ever leave this place?”

Blitzø blinked. He does, but he lives in a raggedy old apartment, shared with Loona. He invited Fizz over to the I.M.P Headquarters both because he was embarrassed about the apartment, and he didn’t want to disturb Loona.

“Don’t worry about it. Anyway, I just wanted to catch up since it’s been, what, fifteen years now? And the last time we did get to talk about life, we were dealing with a bunch of psycho’s trying to kill us..”

“Oh, so you can explain your reasoning here, but not on the phone, huh?” Fizz smirked, earning an eye-roll from Blitzø.

“Hey, if you came to be a dick, the door’s right behind you,” Blitzø crossed his arms. Fizz only walked further into the room, adjusting the sleeves of his light-pink top as he did so.

The jester moved to circle Blitzø for a moment, “Nope. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me today, Blitzo.”

“The ‘o’ is silent, clown! Do I have to drill a paper with it in writing through your ears in order to get it through your head?” He flicked Fizz's forehead, though the action and his tone showed that he wasn't actually upset. Usually, he would be, but things were different nowadays; He couldn’t find himself to be genuinely upset with the jester.

Fizz laughed. "Nah, I just like messing with you." He bent forward a little to be on Blitzø’s level, only teasing him further. Blitzø poked Fizz in the chest.

"Thin ice, buddy. Thin. Ice." He glared, making direct eye contact with the jester. Fizz only smiled.

"Guess I'll have to tread carefully, huh?" He gently pried Blitzø’s finger away from him.

Blitzø crossed his arms over his chest. Maybe a harmless little joke to get back at Fizz, but what?

Scare him.

Blitzø and Fizz spent about fifteen minutes discussing life, AKA Blitzø was prying into Fizz’s personal life about him and Asmodeus. Then Blitzø spoke.

“I need to grab something from the company van outside, give me a few minutes.” Then he got up and left. Fizz raised an eyebrow as he watched the shorter imp leave.

It was only partially a lie, given what he ‘needed’ wasn’t actually important. However, it was necessary for his little scheme to get back at Fizz.

Once the door to his office was closed, Blitzø ran out of the building to his company’s van. When he got to the vehicle, he started to dig through the mess of trash on the floors and seats. He mumbled something about needing to clean it, or get Moxxie to do it.

Then he grabbed it.

An airhorn.

Fizz had mentioned using an airhorn to startle Asmodeus awake, why not use the same to scare the jester? A taste of his own medicine.. sort of.

Once Blitzø had the airhorn, he ran back into the building. He looked through the window to see inside his office, Fizz wasn’t facing the door. Perfect. He made sure to shake the airhorn before entering.

He opened the door slowly and carefully, making sure to shut it the same way. You couldn’t even hear the click. He tip-toed over to Fizz, then blared the airhorn right behind hip.

Fizz fell out of his seat, and Blitzø fell right next to him, except it was because he was laughing so hard. The jester had fallen out of surprise.

“What the fuck!?” Fizz couldn’t help but crack a smile; He couldn’t be mad, he did the same to Ozzie almost every day. He mumbled, “oh, you son of a bitch..”

Blitzø was too caught up in his own laughter to notice how Fizz had stanced himself.

And then he pounced.

The squeal that came from Blitzø was one Fizz would never, ever forget.

“You think that’s funny, do you? Huh? Fine then, I’ll give you something to laugh about!” The jester exclaimed as he immediately dug his fingers into Blitzø’s sides. The imp immediately started to kick and thrash, loud laughter emitting from him against his own will.

“FIHIHIZZ! Fuck, not THIHIS!” Blitzø grabbed onto Fizz’s robotic hands, but it didn’t do much to stop the jester as he just continued to scribble his fingers along Blitzø’s torso, the killer laughing helplessly beneath him.

“Ah, just like old times, right Blitzø? You’re still so insanely ticklish!” Fizz chimed, switching to vibrate his fingers along Blitzø’s ribs. “This will never get old. Ever.”

Memories of Blitzø’s childhood with Fizz flooded his mind; They almost always had tickle fights in the free time they had growing up. They both loved it, and they were honestly pretty open about liking it to each other.

Only to each other.

“Y’know, I remember you always seemed to love it whenever I’d go riiiiight here..” Fizz trailed his fingers down to Blitzø’s stomach, eliciting high pitched giggles from the shorter imp.

“Fihihihizz!” Blitzø whined, and Fizz couldn’t help but tease further.

“N’aww, still your soft spot, huh? Tickletickletickle!” He briskly scritched and clawed at the skin, simultaneously keeping the touches gentle just to worsen the sensations for Blitzø.

It was then Fizz noticed a soft sound, something hitting the floor. He glanced to the side to see Blitzø’s tail wagging, and he had to pause for a moment to compose himself.

“Aww, Blitzø! You’re tail still wags when I do this!? Fuck, you’re making me regret hating you for fifteen years,” Fizz joked. He moved his hands down a little and drilled his thumbs into the space right above Blitzø’s hip bones, relishing in the shriek that came from the shorter imp.

“FIHIHIZZ!” Blitzø’s hands latched onto Fizz’s wrists, and he started to thrash under the jester.

“Still a bad spot, huh? Guess you’re not so different compared to when we were kids!” Fizz grinned.

Soon, Fizz stopped tormenting Blitzø and sat beside him as he composed himself. It was pretty adorable.

“You’re an ass, you know that?” Blitzø huffed, glaring at Fizz with faux annoyance.

“You know you love it~” Fizz teased, delivering a few pokes to Blitzø’s sides before backing off again. He couldn’t help himself.

They both sat on the floor for the rest of the day, talking about whatever came to mind or messing with each other.

They both really did miss times like these, they missed each other, and both couldn’t be happier that they’d be able to experience it again.

[teecupangel]

I realize I've had a similar idea in the past, but please consider: reverse isekai protagonist Desmond who is the only human left in the world after touching the isu device because everyone else was transported into a bunch of different parallel universes (/=crossovers of your choice), each containing one of his ancestors.

He must now convince his ancestors to undo their parallel universes an de-isekai the world before reality collapses in on itself.

Oh, and he has no idea how to contact them, all he can do is get into the Animus and see what they're doing.

No preassure.

(+extra points if we get some cameos from the modern day protagonists. Maybe they're the key to fixing the world?)

You know what would be funny?

If everyone was transported into universes connected to their voices and the modern day Assassins are there for the ride and have no idea what the fuck is happening.

.

So we have Altaïr and his voice actor Philip Shahbaz has been in a lot of films and tv series. Considering how I write Altaïr, I would suggest we punt him to one of the crime procedural series that his voice actor guest starred in. We can go for SEAL Team because the episode Philip Shahbaz is in for that series is set in Syria so we can have Altaïr see what his homeland has become in this possible future. Alternatively, we can kick him to NCIS instead and it would be a case of Altaïr having to deal with both the modern day world and hiding himself from the NCIS team who is looking into the death of a military personnel that, coincidentally, was nearby when Altaïr was transferred into their world. Since you want one of the modern day protagonists as a cameo, how about instead of being a cameo, they become the main Assassins’ sidekick? The Watson to their Holmes, some may say. We’re pairing Altaïr with the initiate of Unity and Syndicate (there is a possibility that they’re not the same person but I normally just make them the same person because they’re meant to be us in those games). The initiate would know how the Brotherhood operates so they serve more as Altaïr’s assistant that he calls ‘novice’. The recruit is actually the one who realizes they’re in a tv show because they watch criminal procedural shows while grinding (because, according to them, Arno’s rank system is a grindy piece of shit)

.

For Ezio… now, Roger Craig Smith has done a lot of character voices BUT there is one specific character that we’re going to choose because (1) it will confuse the hell out of Ezio and (2) the characters share the same birthday: Sonic the Hedgehog. And he would have the lovely Layla assisting him for this predicament. Layla is just as confused as him but the best part of this entire thing is that Layla grew up playing Sonic the Hedgehog so they’re not going in blind. Sonic absolutely mimics Ezio’s voice whenever he wants to mess with the man XD

.

Okay. So for Ratonhnhaké:ton… he voiced a multiplayer character in Red Dead Redemption and that is all the excuse I need to kick him to RDR. Normally, he’d be punted to RDR1 but if you want to punt him to RDR2 instead, be my guest. Regardless of which game he gets kicked into, the main premise is the same. Ratonhnhaké:ton tries to find the Brotherhood but sees none and gets roped into the Van der Linde gang’s ‘shenanigans’ (RDR2) or entangled with Dutch’s Gang (RDR1). For this one, he gets stuck with Numbskull and it’s a very tense partnership because Numbskull admits that they’re a Templar (whether by choice or because they were coerced would remain vague until later on) but they’re both in the same mess so they’re gonna try and make the best of it.

.

And now we come to Haytham. I am sooooo tempted to put him in a Hallmark movie called Christmas at Holly Lodge just to fuck with him. BUT if we really want to fuck with him, we kick him to Riverdale and let him suffer through the batshit crazy plot that series had. And, just to rub salt to the wound, he’s stuck with Noob who is starting to Bleed Edward Kenway. Haytham gets roped into Riverdale’s plot because Noob believes that’s the key to how they can return to their own world. The problem? Noob only watched the first season of Riverdale so they’re both flying blind XD

.

In post-apocalyptic world where Desmond is the only human left…

Instead of the Animus, he finds out what his ancestors are doing because the Apple connected to TVs from a random mall that Desmond went to for a supply run.

He’s still working out on how to contact his ancestors.

But his phone… strangely enough… has four new contacts that he doesn’t recognize.

Desmond still needs to find a signal though XD

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Snowdrop - Bruce Wayne x Reader (Aka Snapdragon Pt 2)

Snowdrop (Galanthus) - Meaning: Consolation, Hope

Summary: Following your accusation of cheating, Bruce shares his biggest secret with you. Read Part 1 Here (but can be read on its own)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Word Count: 2450

Warnings: Angsty, mix of Nolan/2022 The Batman universes, kisses, lots of lingering touches but Bruce is nervous as hell, Alfred being a bit of a mother hen, mentions of Bruce's parents' death, mentions of danger

So this is my apology for cutting my 30 days down to 25 and leaving y'all hanging. I got sick and started a new job at the end of April so I've been busy! I'm thinking this might turn into a mini series or a bunch of headcanons because I just watched The Batman again and I want to love all over this sad, wet cat.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are SUPER appreciated! <3

The private car pulled up outside Wayne Manor, Bruce having sent it to your office. You thanked the driver — noticeably not Alfred, much to your dismay — when he opened your door and helped you out. 

You looked up at the Gothic mansion. The weather perfectly complimented the sharp finials and fanciful turrets, dark clouds threatening rain looming behind it.

You couldn’t help but feel it was an omen of some kind. 

‘We need to talk.’

Bruce’s text from that morning (five thirty to be precise, who even gets up that early?) had your stomach in knots all day while you obsessed over the meaning behind his vagueness. Would it be a Good Talk? The kind that meant he was surprising you with a two-week-no-phones trip to a private tropical island so you could reconnect with each other? Part apology trip, part reassurance. 

Or was this a Bad Talk? He was stunned last night when you’d asked if he was cheating but he never actually answered the question. Maybe tonight he would explain that yes, he was cheating but not because he didn’t love you — he was just not cut out for monogamy. In which case you would be okay, but you’d definitely need to talk about boundaries and expectations. Or maybe he was so rankled by your accusation he would sulk all through dinner, then hand you a bag of all the things you’d left at his place and send you on your way. 

Due to the earliness of the text, you’d had all day to prepare for the worst case scenario. Squaring your shoulders, you walked up the stone steps to the front door. Before you could knock, Alfred had whipped the tall wooden doors open and ushered you inside. 

“Come in, come in, Miss! Don’t want to get caught in the rain, do we?” He took your coat and work bag, tucking them over his arm. “Master Wayne is waiting for you in the study while I finish up dinner. You can go on up, third door on the left, remember?” 

“Thanks, Alfred,” you replied, the butler disappearing as you mounted the massive main staircase. In no particular rush, you sauntered down the long spacious corridor, lined on both sides by paintings that cost more than you made in five years. The value of this hallway alone was more money than you’d probably ever see in your lifetime. Just outside the study, you paused in front of one of your favorites. 

A 19th-century piece by Turner, it depicted a ship lost in a storm. Thick swaths of violent black and blue, a shocking splash of amber in the center around the only recognizable part of the ship — the mast — which dipped at a dangerous angle. You felt like that boat right now. Tossed and turned about, a helpless casualty to an apathetic universe.

But calm seas never did make skilled sailors, and a skilled sailor knew that the only way out was through. With a steadying breath, you continued your way toward the study and entered. 

An Ella Fitzgerald song played lowly on the speakers, the fire was lit and cast a warm, comforting glow on the dark furniture. Across from you, silhouetted in the giant picture window, Bruce stood with his back to you. The urge to go over and wrap your arms around his waist, hug him from behind and bury your face between his shoulders was almost overwhelming until you remembered why you were there. 

“Bruce,” you said by way of announcing yourself. He turned then, blue eyes finding you instantaneously and he set down the whiskey glass he’d been holding. He looked tense, broad shoulders rigid atop a ramrod-straight spine, his gaze unwavering and unreadable. 

“I haven’t been cheating on you,” he said, glancing away before continuing, “but I haven’t been honest with you either. 

“Oh,” you breathed, unsure of what to do. This was strange — he was acting strange. He hadn’t offered you a drink, hadn’t greeted you, hadn’t even said your name. Your hands fidgeted restlessly — should you demand an explanation or keep your cool, wait for him to tell you? 

Bruce answered your unasked question for you. 

“Before I tell you I need you to know some things. First and foremost, I love you. I know my reputation as a playboy, but that’s…never really been me. And I know the press thinks we’re mismatched but they couldn’t be more wrong, okay? You are incredible and I wake up more and more in love with you. Even if —” he paused, gathered himself, “even if after I tell you, you never want to see me again. I will always love you.” 

Your knees shook — your entire body felt like jello. What he was going to tell you must be really, really bad. “I-I love you too, Bruce.”

He approached you then, apparently noticing the tremor in your voice. You let him take your trembling hand and lead you to the long leather couch by the fireplace. He looked so unlike himself — humbled and insecure where he was always calm and confident. Whatever he had to tell you, it was life-changing big.

The silver lining was that he wasn’t cheating on you. 

“Secondly,” he said, his tone quieter now that you sat side-by-side, him angling to face you, “is that this secret is…it’s dangerous. It could potentially put a target on your back if it ever came to light, so I’m giving you a choice. I will tell you if you want to know, or we can forget about it and move on. Pretend this never happened.” 

What could be so dangerous? You wracked your brain for an answer. Was he a drug kingpin? A mob boss? Mercenary? You doubted all those options given how much money he donated to GCPD and legal advocacy groups — but what if that was just a smoke screen to cover his heinous crimes? 

On the other hand, this was Bruce. Thoughtful, kind, generous Bruce who held you so gently when you lay in bed at night, who pulled out chairs and opened doors and walked on the street side of you wherever you went. The man who loved you so fiercely he’d made you believe in the concept again. 

You couldn’t languish in the storm any longer. You had to know. 

“Tell me, Bruce,” you said, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “I want to know.” 

He nodded solemnly, some of his hair falling into his face. He led you off the couch and toward a corner of the library where he gently tilted a nondescript leatherbound book off the shelf, which opened a hidden door. “It’s easier if I show you first.” 

When he’d first brought you to the Manor, you’d asked if he had any secret doors or hidden passages, to which he said no. You’d then teased him about it, expressing your disappointment. “How do you not? Isn’t that the point of a house like this? Damn, rich people are so bad at being rich!” 

If you weren’t currently trying to keep your insides from completely liquefying, you would’ve rubbed his face in the fact that you’d been right after all. 

An old-fashioned cage elevator opened, and Bruce gestured you inside. He followed and pushed a lever down. The door creaked shut and you began your descent. Into what or where, you had no idea. 

Sensing your trepidation, Bruce rested a hand on your lower back.

You relaxed a little at his touch, leaning back into it but still needing to break the taut line of tension between you. “Oh god, this isn’t the secret entrance to your illegal blood diamond mine, is it?” 

Bruce chuckled mirthlessly, “No, it’s not an illegal blood diamond mine.” 

“Hm,” you replied, “Would’ve explained the boatloads of cash.” 

By the time you finished your comment, you’d arrived at the bottom of the elevator shaft. The door opened with a whine, and you stepped into a place you never thought you’d see. A place you hadn’t really thought about existing but made sense. 

The space around you was cavernous — literally. Craggy walls with stalactites hanging down forty feet above your heads. The fluttering of some sort of winged creature echoed off of every surface. The setting was completely incongruous to all the high tech monitors, gadgets, and surveillance gear strewn about the numerous surfaces. 

Directly in front of you, a mannequin wearing a black suit of armor that any Gothamite would recognize stared at you. 

Batman. 

You wandered closer to the suit, seeing it up close for the first time, utterly gobsmacked. You couldn’t ignore the numerous scars that littered Bruce’s torso, a few of the larger ones lined up with areas in the suit that had been repaired. Moving further into the room, you let your eyes travel over the various in-progress projects, folders with papers and news articles spilling out of them, a stack of journals. The top of which was labeled with the current month and year on the front. Organized chaos — you were surprised Alfred let this mess stand. 

You looked back over your shoulder, searching for confirmation from Bruce who hadn’t moved out of the elevator. Giving you time to roam, explore, take it all in. 

“You’re Batman,” you said. The look on Bruce’s face said it all and slowly, certain things began to make sense. Late night texts, oddly placed scars and bruises with vague or strange explanations, how good he was at not waking you when he left your apartment. How Batman had all the cool criminal-catching tech and gadgets that the Gotham police couldn’t afford. The nigh-on-impossible-to-scale walls Bruce had built around himself, his playboy persona, all of it. 

He wasn’t kidding when he’d told you this secret was dangerous. How easily all of this could unravel.

You didn’t know what to say. So many questions buzzed through your mind it made you dizzy. 

“Are you…okay? What do you think?” he asked, taking a few cautious steps out of the elevator toward you.

“I’m okay,” you said, fixing your eyes on a batarang on the table beside you, absentmindedly tracing the sharp edge with one finger. “It’s a lot to take in. I mean, I almost wish you had been cheating. At least that way I could be mad, but this?” You gestured around the cave. “I don’t know how to react. I’m…shocked, obviously, but it makes so much sense and explains so much more that I’m overwhelmed by it.” 

You didn’t know when the tears started, but Bruce was in front of you, wiping them away with his thumbs before gently tilting your face up to his. 

“Do you want to go back upstairs? Alfred’s probably got dinner all set, you can have some time to process, ask questions…” he trailed off. 

You nodded, “Yeah, upstairs sounds good.” 

The ride back up to the manor was silent except for the creaking and groaning of the elevator. Bruce’s arm was around your shoulder, providing warmth and comfort to your increasingly numb body and mind. 

You had no idea what to feel. What to think. What to say. Maybe Bruce was right and you needed to process — yeah, that felt right, process. 

Process the fact that the man you love went around Gotham at night beating the snot out of evildoers. Spent the nights he wasn’t with you hunting down corrupt cops and serial killers and masked madmen who only wanted to watch the city — your city — burn itself to ashes. 

The lengths men will go to to avoid therapy.

Bruce led you through the study and down the hall to the dining room, where Alfred had set up a romantic candlelight dinner for two at the far end of the extravagantly long table. 

Like the gentleman he was raised to be, Bruce pulled out your chair and pushed it in as you sat, leaning forward to place a tender kiss at the crown of your head before taking his seat. 

Hope flickered in his eyes as he looked at you, and you looked away. 

Alfred entered the room pushing a cart of silver-domed trays. One by one he pulled the domes off to reveal all of your favorite comfort foods. No doubt this was Bruce’s idea. He was thoughtful like that; figuring that you would want comfort food after learning his secret. 

That hopeful flicker lingered over every bite you took as you dug in. You hadn’t realized how famished you were, having skipped lunch due to the unease caused by his cryptic text.

While you ate, your mind kept mulling over the information you’d learned. With how intelligent and thoughtful he was, you knew Bruce had gone over every possible outcome of tonight, which is why you suspected he left the choice up to you on whether you wanted to know or not. He had laid his cards on the table, trusted you with his most life-shattering secret, and the next move was up to you. He wouldn’t force a reaction or response and would respect and accept whatever you decided to do.

But really, what was there to do? You loved him, possibly more so after this incredible display of trust. Vulnerability like this wasn’t easy for either of you, so really your reaction was already determined. 

When you finished eating, you put your napkin on your plate and stood up. You crossed to Bruce’s seat and curled yourself on his lap. Automatically, his arms encircled you and you rested your head on his chest, noting how quickly his heart beat. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said, burrowing a little further into his well-worn t-shirt. “I’m not going anywhere, though. I love you too much to let you keep doing this alone.” 

You could feel the tension you’d noticed earlier leave his body even as his arms tightened around you, pulling you somehow closer. 

“You realize the risk you’re putting yourself in, right? I…if anything happened to you because of—”

You pulled your head up and looked him square in the eye. “I know the risk. You’re worth the risk. And if anything happens to me, I’ll just haunt the batcave and the manor so it’ll be like I never left.” You were half-joking, smiling at him as you ran a hand through his long raven locks. He leaned into your touch, eyes closed. 

“I just can’t lose you like I lost…” My parents. 

It was unsaid, but the meaning was there. In that moment it was impossible not to see him as a young boy, newly orphaned, wandering this enormous house alone, looking for his mother and father. 

You pulled his head toward yours and rested your forehead on his temple while you continued to stroke his hair. 

“You’ll never lose me, Bruce,” you vowed.

[always-just-down-the-street]

Some Misc. Thoughts I've Had With The Misremembered Lanes AU

It's about 3AM and I wanted to just put up some more crumbs for people who like the Misremembered Lanes AU! (Yes it's an AU now, see here.) These are compiled from random Discord convos I've had on Discord and so they're gonna be a tad disconnected, BUT if you stay to the end I got another small writing for y'all! So feel free to nom on all this, do whatever. Have fun. :)

~ 0 ~

While not an intended part of the AU, an interesting analysis that ended up occurring was "What would the timeline have been like if Taco actually got to win vs. how OJ feels in this AU after winning".

For the "Taco Wins" timeline, consider that nobody was really rooting for her besides Pickle, and she wouldn't have seen everyone as genuinely coming to like her after OJ would've turned heel- a point was made that they would've sided with her because they didn't like OJ betraying Paper. Compared to OJ, who puts up a facade to keep a bunch of fake friends, Taco would've happily left them behind to have a great time with her real friend. Get away from them, get away from the show, and never worry about that treadmill.

But OJ? OJ the Winner in the canon (for this AU) timeline? He feels trapped, and the worst part is he can never figure out or articulate why. Or maybe even that the feeling is there at all, at least consciously.

That's why he has to insist upon himself, his ego, because that's deep down the only thing that's real. He fears everything could be taken away if he doesn't but he doesn't know why. He doesn't know that he is trapped in a paradise never meant for him. Took the luxuries and created his own gilded cage out of someone else's dreams and hopes.

Everything else is fake, it's just a matter of if he realizes it or not.

It's a nightmare that he never knows to wake up from, and the moment he does he wants to go to back to sleep. Because the only thing worse than making a cage for yourself without realizing is realizing you're in the cage at all. Cause once he learns the truth? He can't go back. Otherwise everything he put himself through- everything he put Taco through, if indirectly- was all for nothing.

But now he sees the world outside of the cage. Now he sees her outside of the cage, looking in. They both want what the other has, and it breaks them because they're two sides of the same coin.

They're too far in what they've become.

~ 0 ~

“Why aren’t you happy? You’re a winner, aren’t you?”

“You have everything you could have ever wanted. Friends, fortune, fame, glory. Everything you could have wanted, and you still feel empty. Everything he gave you, and you still feel empty.”

“The only empty thing in the gilded cage you filled with everything never meant for you.”

“You see her out there. You finally see how alone she looks, you recognize it like it was your own face. It should have been your face. It’s the same face.”

“You can’t face yourself in the mirror anymore. You just see her.”

“Why aren’t you happy? You’re free, aren’t you?”

“You escaped everything. The show, the contestants, your host. Your creator. He made you. He made you wrong, and now you’re left to pick up the pieces.”

“But no matter how much you try, you could never fit the pieces back into the shape they used to be.”

“You see him in there. You finally see how trapped he looks, you recognize it like it was your own face. It should have been your face. It’s the same face.”

“You can’t face your reflection anymore. You just see him.”

[rockatnothing]

Season three of From has got me screaming, crying and throwing up!! I love it!!

Here's a bunch of random thoughts I have from episode five 🐦‍⬛ ngl I don't remember any character names so forgive that please lol

I'm theorizing that Fatima is being turned into one of the monsters. She was eating rot and was drinking Nicky's blood. Plus, she couldn't get into the colony house in a previous ep. I'm thinking the eating rot might reflect whatever happened inside the monsters to make their internal organs dry up. Honestly, I think all of the monsters were at some point human and then got turned. I think there was a mass turning sometime in the 60s because of the monsters based on their costume design. Perhaps they figured out how to kill all their monsters but as a trade off they got turned. The life Fatima could be holding is the birth of a new monstrosity.

The town and everything feels like an escape room to me. There are rules the world follows and things get more intense when the people find something new. Like with the phone/radio. There was a man in S1 Jim talked to and now we're talking to Thomas. If all of this was meant to destroy the people then why have someone warn them about Tabitha digging or returning. This world works in a specific way where there are ways to solve the horrible mysteries and active various entities helping the people.

Which reminds me of the whole thing with Tabitha and Victor's mom. It feels crazy how deliberate the town picks people. Plus that Tabatha isn't the only one that has had visions! I think all of the characters who hallucinate fit into roles. Like the town needs someone to see the kids, the symbol or the dried up woman in colony.

Who is the dried up woman??? Is she a ghost like the other dead we've seen or like Boyd has seen? She doesn't feel the same because she looks immediately scarier than the other dead. Maybe she has different motives or a different purpose narratively.

I'm glad Victor is talking to people about the past and thank god it's Sara who can help put puzzle pieces together.

I want a big reunion with Victor, Jade and Tabitha. I like their dynamic and want them to talk to Boyd because I feel like they'll solve some shit. I do kinda love the lack of communication tho. It makes things tense and you kinda know these plot hound characters WILL argue regardless.

I'm going to go crazy when Victor sees his Dad. I feel like the writers might make me cry again lol.

It was so funny seeing Kristi and Kenny have a heart to heart, then cut to a wide showing Jade just off screen. It brought a fun sleep over energy to it. Especially when jade went fuck it, wanna hear some weird shit?

In season 2 I found Randall annoying and a good antagonist. Then, as he got isolated and cicada-d I started sympathizing for him. Yeah he was a dick, but like damn he has nobody in hell. Then seeing him get picked out by the monsters and getting left alive on the ambulance really made me feel for him. I can't wait to see if he'll call out Boyd for leaving him or really how either character will react in episode 6. I hope Randall lives because it'll be a lot more interesting if he does and I want to see more of him.

I want to see Marielle and Kristi be sweet together. I love my sapphics 💚💚💚 I do like how Marielle is proving herself as a nurse and her caring for Fatima is helping her feel grounded. If something goes wrong with Fatima and the baby then I feel like it'll be a big blow for Marielle emotionally.

Julie and Ethan deserve so much better. Their dad, Jim, is obsessed with the mystery and can't pull his head out of his ass to be there for his kids. Plus I bet he's going to be super protective over Tabitha now she's back. Like let your wife be the plot hound and learn your lesson you need to protect the kids you still have. I just feel bad Julie and Ethan are thinking about what will happen when their parents are gone. It sucks.

I want to hug Donna; she is being pushed beyond her limit.

For a sec I thought Donna recognized the new cop character when the cop ran in. But it could also be a Holy shit more shit to deal with kind of reaction.

I bet the cop character has some sort of connection to one of the main characters. Like all of the new characters from season 2 ended up playing a significant role. This cop has to bring something. If not I hope the cop and Tabitha have an interesting relationship since they entered together.

Tabitha can find someone better than Jim and that better person is bisexuality

I like how before they kill minor characters they have tended to be present in episodes prior to their death. Like Nicky's death wasn't on the same level of emotional devastation as Tian Chen dying. But Nicky still felt like a real person in this world who died and not just the red shirt of the ep. The writers are doing an amazing job and I hope that keeps up.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Ok regarding that “can i make Yves do my homework if I give him my childhood pictures” ask, exactly how much access does Yves have to our lives? Does he have images or videos from when we were still a baby or would they be new information to him?

A bunch of my baby pictures and videos are lost because my dad lost the computer that had them but we recently found my aunt’s old camera filled with our childhood pictures, it was a pleasant surprise for us but would it be for Yves too?

It absolutely is. If Yves was there with you while your aunt showed you the photo gallery of her old camera, Yves would momentarily lose a bit of inhibition and let his pupils dilate to a maddening degree before instantly constricting it back to appear normal. It's a rare, super deluxe edition photos of you, there isn't anything else like it out there as they're most likely not uploaded to the internet or a cloud based service, where he could easily hack.

Him coming across media from your childhood or at least during those early days where people still go to and get their photos developed, is like winning the lottery for him. Because, although he tries to collect everything relating to your existence, there is only so much he can do in a day. He rather prioritizes the present and the future, as the past is the past; neither you nor him can change it, he can only understand or connect it to your current behaviours or thought patterns.

He does have some information about you as a baby or a child, but that is if they're "readily available" to him. (I.e., it can be found in predictable places like in your childhood home.), that is why, Yves would try to build a good relationship with people you grew up with, to extract information.

Despite being reclusive as he is, Yves would never fail to attend every and any family gathering he is invited to or expected to come. Encouraging that drunk uncle to drink more if he knew he has something to say about you, bribing your relatives with gifts and career opportunities, perhaps even drugging that really difficult and combative cousin to make them more bearable to interrogate.

As soon as he knew your aunt could be another goldmine of your data, he would get to work. Wasting no time building a rapport with her, it's a piece of cake given how obsessive and manipulative his nature is.

Inevitably, your aunt will come to love him and see Yves as family. By extension, her relationship with you will skyrocket too, she will invite you to her place much more often even though she might not be the most sociable person in the first place. Yves will find a way to make her bend to his whims.

The majority of their conversations would be about you, only sometimes Yves would talk about something else if it meant he could keep the drive to spill more about your lore going. His sharp ears and mind will pick up on clues as to where he might find more pictures or writings about you. He would then break into your aunt's home to give it a thorough shakedown and leave without a trace. Yves would repeat this process until he's positive that she has nothing left to offer. That camera is getting fucking stolen and replaced with a duplicate.

It didn't matter if your aunt was a minimalist or a severe hoarder, he would go through all her things just to try and find pieces of your puzzle. He would wade through cobwebs, dust piles, rat droppings and mould if he had to, Yves isn't scared to get dirty to obtain what he wants, "squeamish" isn't in his vocabulary.

When she is robbed of all your essence, Yves would become distant. Not hostile towards her, just cold and indifferent. He would still maintain some sort of relationship with her though, in case she becomes useful again later. As of now, he either puts his entire focus on your current peripheral and direct life, or start to hunt other members down- from his snooping, he had learned of other people who may have valuable input about your childhood.

All of this is happening in the background. You wouldn't suspect a thing, there wasn't a dip in his attention for you. In fact, he may have gotten a lot more smothering, as Yves would be shaking at the thought of testing out his new theories and hypothesis that were birthed from his new knowledge.

He just loves you so much that he couldn't help himself but to get greedy. Yves wants all of you; past, present and future. And any version of you that could have been.

[seeminglydark]

I'm in love with Caro's style! It's a super cool mix of masc, fem, and vaporwave kind of look. As an enby who, at first, thought I had to look a certain way after coming out as non binary, I was wondering how Caro found their style after they started transitioning and figuring out who they were as a person.

Hello! So I did draw an entire four page little comic thingy to answer this, but I'm going to post it tomorrow cuz I wanted to draw a cute little cover for it ha. Figured I would answer you in text today though, and then you can have the visual tomorrow <3 First thing I'm going to say is that there is no 'certain way to look' for any gender identity or sexuality, cuz thats important, for those who dont wanna read through this text dump. Dress how you want forever.

SO! *rubs hands together* how Caro found their style! Background to those who havent read my comics, Caro grew up as a super high femme kid with crazy helicopter parents who controlled every aspect of their life, including how they dressed. They participated in pageants, modeling and wore a LOT of pink. Not that Caro didn't like pink, they did, but they liked purple better.

After Sully (highschool sweetheart) left, and Caro was on their own, they cut their hair off in a fit of rage and suddenly had to grow up real quick because they were on their own. Whats that got to do with fashion, RJ? Everything, dear reader! When they left, they had a bunch of Sullys shirts and his battle jacket. All 10 sizes too big of course, so paired the oversized tops with their own jeans, workout shorts etc. They had their cheer sneakers. And that is what they wore for a few months, til they got a job at the local gas station. The gas station employees were like, what is going on here with this little girl wearing too big clothes with a fucked up haircut, so, they pitched together and got this kid a proper haircut, during which Caro tearfully explains they arent a girl at all, they dont know what they are and everything is very scary and please dont fire them. Bev, one of their older co-workers decides they need better clothes and takes them to Seattle to thrift! Caro never thrifted in their life and found themself enamored with tacky 80's clothes and patterns, bright colors, funny tee shirts, etc. They worried, because maybe that wasnt what a boy would wear. Bev tells them theres no such thing as what a boy or a girl would wear, something Caro had never heard before, and that gives them mental permission to gleefully grab all the things they never got to wear growing up. They looked like a roller rink carpet threw up on them. they loved it.

The Gas Station Adults buy them a jacket that fits as well, GasCo purple of course, with their chosen name on the name tag. a symbol of acceptance. Caro started hearing things about genderfluid and nonbinary, and looking into what that meant, and what it could mean for them. Their podcast project, Mil-Liminal goes viral. Goldie, their agent, helps them get on low t. they realize how much fun body hair is and LOOK they can wear crop tops to show off their new tummy trail while still hiding their boobs. Whats even more fun? Getting tattoos. Taking their body back. Making themself into the person THEY want to see, and whats makes them the most happy. Still looking like an arcade carpet threw up on them, still loving it. They get top-surgery. Goldie asks them if they want to do a public face reveal. They've kept themself hidden this entire time, and realize they dont want to do that anymore. They shouldnt have to. They want to show the world this person theyve become. Which also means choosing a signature look for Mil-Liminal.

A Mix of their Highschool Varisty Jacket, and their GasCo Jacket. Sneakers. A nod to the pieces of clothing they always felt comfortable in.

Shorts and crop tops or mesh tops. Show off the tattoos, and the scars they earned becoming the person theyve always been.

Wear their identity on their sleeve, because not everyone can, but they are in a position where they want to make a difference and be seen for those who cant, cuz they know how it feels to be lost and scared and not have any idea how to move forward. Let their voice BE a voice.

A SnapBack. A call back to the first date with their highschool sweetheart, who listened, and put his hat on them and took them out and let them be themself, and loved them for it.

The most important thing to take from this anon, is that there is no Look. There is no way to dress or act or look if you're non binary, its not fashion. The same way clothing has no gender, anyone can wear whatever the fuck makes them happy. Put clothes on that, when you look in the mirror, you feel comfortable and happy. Its a very personal thing, and its about YOU, and how you feel. and your gender journey. Gender and Sexuality is as vast a spectrum as the human condition.

Thank you so much for the ask and inspiring me to make a look book and fashion journey post, I'll put it up tomorrow <3