#like CONSTANTLY i cannot stress enough how that's all it was

[lazylittledragon]

i think thats supposed to be about sex things but Not One Of Those, this is the fourth, fifth? couple youve given a lil baby and i think you maybe love lil babys

i too, give the Characters lil babys, because i love them

as well as the myriad of Situations it puts the blorbos in

fourth or fifth publicly/in recent memory, i've been doing it for Years in art i haven't posted akfdhdjhd

i do just really love putting them in Situations you're right

[sydney-sargent-superfan]

i don’t think people who don’t read comics/mostly read wfa understand how much of a dweeb tim drake actually is because he was supposed to be a Good Role Model For Tween Boys in the 90s. one time he found out his roommate at boarding school was an alcoholic so he poured all his alcohol down the drain instead of just ignoring it like a normal person. his girlfriend wanted to have sex with him and instead of just saying “i’m not ready” he launched into a monologue about how “making love is like opening a door” and he “isn’t ready to open that door yet” because they “might have adult feelings for each other, but [they’re] still just kids.” 90s tim was the type of kid to remind the teacher to assign homework. he somehow got mad bitches even though everyone highkey thought he was weird. in one panel of one issue he randomly said he had to be “vewwy quiet” and never spoke like that again. he canonically plays dungeons and dragons (or the fictional dc equivalent). the money his dad left him after he died wasn’t even a lot because his dad went bankrupt shortly before his death. like it was a substantial amount but not enough to make him rich. i cannot stress enough that tim was SUCH a Regular Guy TM and constantly worried about not standing out. he purposefully did bad at sports and pretended to be winded in gym class so people wouldn’t suspect anything. like he wouldn’t even try and be average, he would purposefully almost fail. he is not a cool rich skater kid guys he’s such a dork

[jinxvex]

heyy! if u take requests i was wondering if you would make an enemy sevika x reader, where they treat each other like shit until sevika has enough and fucks the shit out of reader 💪😊

♱ enemy. (enemy!sevika x reader) ♱

enemies to lovers is lowkey my fave trope so, let’s go!!

also sorry i haven’t posted! finals week… 🫠😓

cw: nsfw, kink city LOL!! sevika is v rough + punishes reader, possessiveness, BDSM elements, BREEDING KINK (oops), name-calling (slut, whore, bitch, etc), degradation/praise, cursing, arguing, a tiny bit angsty, spanking, she slaps your cunt once, choking, hair-pulling, doggy position, she eats you out!! it's sweet towards the end dw!

there's def more but OOP-

wc: 4.2K! (oops)

sevika hates you.

1. she hates the way your hips sway when you walk.

she’s definitely ALWAYS looking at your ass.

2. she hates how you talk and how you giggle under your breath when you laugh at something you shouldn’t. your voice sounds like music, like wind chimes in the spring that cause her vision to blur.

3. she hates the way your skin glows in the sunlight—as rare as it is in the gloomy grey atmosphere of zaun.

4. she hates how you dress and style your hair. you stand out. you personally customize your clothing, adding your own detailing on platform boots, jeans, jewelry, belts, accessories, tops, and jackets. your uniqueness annoys her beyond belief.

“what a fuckin’ show-off! this isn’t a fashion show,” she mutters under her breath to get a rise out of you.

5. she hates the way you talk back to her, even when she starts an argument first.

“well maybe you could learn something, you wear the same shit like… every day,” you respond briskly, already sick of her berating you as you’ve just walked through the doors of silco’s office.

she’s older than you, you should show some respect! you act so high and mighty like nobody can crack that tough persona you put on to protect yourself from the dark and dangerous streets of zaun.

she scoffs. her thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of her nose to alleviate the stress you’ve subjected her to. she cannot believe this.

“see? this… child is so incompetent! fuckin’ impossible to work with! she’s probably late to this meeting because she’s too busy playing dress up to actually do her job.” she directs towards you although not looking at you, opting to look at the tall chair covering silco’s body as she sits in the chair across from his.

silco sighs, clearly annoyed at both of your antics. he swivels around in his chair to face you both.

“actually, she was doing something i assigned her to. last minute, but she always gets the job done.”

sevika’s eyes flicker to you, and you smirk at her assumption that you were accidentally late.

she scoffs again and drags her grey-ish eyes back to silco as she leans to the left, almost trying to get away from you standing at her right with your arms crossed.

“you see… you two are my best. i cannot afford to have you both acting like children when doing business. it could threaten everything i’ve—we’ve built. one wrong move could tarnish this.”

you and sevika stay quiet as you avoid eye contact with each other, you taking a newfound interest in the bookshelf as sevika’s eyes burn holes into the ground. you knew deep down that silco was right.

“it's time you’ve both gotten along, for all of our sakes. don’t disappoint me again.”

…

you haven’t seen sevika since silco’s ‘lecture’ he gave you two a couple of days ago.

it's evening in zaun, streets and bars filling with people as the night threatens to begin.

you sat on the couch in the living room of your tiny yet, surprisingly homey apartment. your legs resting on the coffee table and you busy munching on cheap snacks, reflecting on the conversation that took place not too long ago. you were livid.

i mean, what else more did he want from you!

sevika was impossible. you tried to get along with her in the beginning but no matter what, she hated you!

she constantly finds new ways to poke fun at you, belittle you, and insult your intelligence. she obviously thinks you aren’t worthy of being a part of silco’s inner circle and that offends you.

and yes, she’s incredibly hot, but all of that was overshadowed the moment she decided you were a piece of gum on her boot!

you sigh incredulously, “damn… i need a drink.”

…

a few minutes later, you’re walking into the last drop and making a beeline for the bar.

as you sit down, your hands graze the edges of the countertop and you close your eyes briefly to let out a breath you’ve held in your throat for…

who knows how long?

that garners the attention of thieram, the kind bartender whom you’d had polite conversation with in the past. you’d taken quite a liking to his kind personality in the past.

“what would you like tonight, miss?” he smiles at you.

as you rummage through your mind for something to order, there isn’t much.

you aren’t a big drinker so it was hard to decipher what was good and what wasn’t because you simply don’t know.

“she’ll have the whiskey, best you've got.” you hear a gruff voice come from behind you. you hear the person’s rough steps come to a stop beside you and they sit.

“ugh.” you scoff out loud and roll your eyes dramatically as you avoid looking in her direction to your right.

sevika.

“coming right up…” thieram, not even wanting to know, swiftly walks off to make your drink.

“what do you want?!” you huff out in annoyance as you finally bring your head up to make eye contact with her.

“nothin’… just enjoying you strugglin’ to order. jus’ was painful to watch, doll.”

your eyebrows raise as your mouth opens and closes, you not exactly knowing how to respond. especially to "doll".

although her tone indicates that she was merely joking, you retaliate against her anyway for the way she’s treated you in the past.

“i- you know what?! if you’ve just come to gloat and make me feel like an idiot just go right ahead and fuck off!” you state. causing a vein to pop out of your forehead and your left eye to twitch in pure anger.

“i’m not in the mood for your shit” you restate your previous point.

“y’know? you’re such a pain in my ass. always bitching and complaining about everything, always in the way, you’re unbelievable.”

you pause your movements, surprised at the lengths she’s going to make you feel terrible.

“i think you look weak.” she finishes, smirking as your eyes threaten to spill with tears out of rage.

“you’re such. a. fucking. bitch.” you emphasize the b in the word bitch as you leap off your chair and stomp out of the bar, trudging back to the comfort of your own home.

thieram walks back over to the side of the bar you were just at and his face scrunches in confusion.

“uh… where’d she go?” he questions as he raises his hands, one hand occupied with your drink.

sevika is still sitting with her mech hand pressing into a tight fist on the counter and her human hand tightly squeezing the bridge of her nose.

she makes up her mind as she stands up and makes her way to your apartment, already having memorized where you lay your head at night.

tonight, you’ll learn respect. obedience.

…

you’ve just made it back to your apartment and you’re slamming the door shut. as you pace back and forth from your kitchen to your living room you’re met with complete and utter silence that taunts you.

“how do i let her get to me? every. single. time.” you’re thinking, mentally cursing yourself for being so stupid. for letting her see you upset.

you hear a loud knock at the door and you pause all moments, as you make your way to answer it, your thoughts race with ideas of who may be at your doorstep at this time of night.

you open the door and you’re met with none other than the sight of sevika. both of her hands clench into fists at her sides as she gazes at you darkly.

it’s almost eerie, her silence. you sense something in her demeanor that is different than usual. it feels… scary.

you both say nothing as she pushes her way into your home, back turned to you as she stops in her tracks.

“wha- what the fuck? g-get out!” you scream out.

her head cocks over her shoulder, one eye looking back at you in a silent warning.

you slowly back up against the door as she turns her full body around to corner you against it. her stare pierces deep into your soul, you feel as though a knife has been jabbed into your gut.

sevika is a scary woman. you know you stand no chance against her strength. that frightens you slightly but you hold your head up high and maintain eye contact with her to stand your ground.

her hands are placed on either side of your head, pressing into the rough, wooden texture of the door. you hear the wood creaking when she leans in, nose brushing against yours. the silence is deafening.

"hmm..." she cocks her head to the right, still looking deep into your irises.

"sevika, l-let me go. what are you doing?!" you try to reason with her but she is unwavering as she takes her mech hand and trails it dangerously slowly up your body from your thigh to your bare stomach, then your arms.

it lands on your neck and wraps around it loosely as a scare tactic. it works as your eyes widen and your shaky hands come up to move the machine off you.

your legs start to weaken and your eyebrows furrow as your underwear pools with your desire.

"so fuckin' pathetic, you are..." she growls, tightening around your neck, not too tight. but tight enough to where your breath hitches in your throat and you're slightly gasping for air.

"y'know, was gonna try and get along with you tonight, doll."

the pet name makes the wetness in your panties become unbearable.

she continues, "ordered you a drink, cracked a joke 'n everything..."

"but, you're a brat to your core, aren't you? should make you apologize..."

an idea pops into your head, another way to disrespect her. you ponder in your head about how you shouldn't. against your better judgment, you say it anyway.

"make me, then,” your eyes flicker down to her lips.

her cocky expression falters slightly—her eyes threatening to look down at yours as well. and if looks could kill, you would die instantly.

"show me your fuckin' bedroom. now."

you're then peeling yourself off of the door. she takes her hand off your neck and backs up to let you pass. you drag your feet, walking slowly to irritate her further. she doesn't like that one bit.

you feel a hand brush the back of your head and she's harshly pulling you up against her chest by your hair. you feel her warm breath tickling your ear, getting ready to humiliate you even more.

"f-fuck! ow!" you yelp out in pain.

"nuh-uh. hurry the fuck up. move." she whispers into your ear.

sevika lets you go, roughly pushing your head forward to emphasize her point. you decide not to push her as you speed up.

as you enter your room, you let out a shaky breath, scared yet excited about the events about to take place. you're not facing her when you hear your bedroom door slam shut. you stop dead in your tracks.

"what-uhm, what's gonna happen?" you question.

you gasp out in surprise as she spins you around to face her and pushes you onto the bed. your ass rests on the edge of it and you're sitting up straight. sevika towers over you, way taller than usual. she looks like she could devour you as she's undressing you with her eyes.

"gonna hurt you, sweetheart. gonna punish you for being such a mean little brat." she smushes your cheeks together with one hand, causing your saliva to pool from your mouth and wet your lips.

"should've done this ages ago... maybe you'd be better behaved by now."

"p-please. i-'m sorry."

it kills you inside, that you secretly love this. you secretly love the idea of her touching you. punishing you, hurting you until you’re utterly ruined.

you’ve dreamt about this moment in light of all the arguments, yelling, and fighting.

in one swift movement, she stands you back up and takes your place on the bed looking up at you hungrily.

“bend over my knee,” she demands.

you feign disgust, and fear, “wh-what?! n-no i-”

“lay the fuck down, and bend over my knee before i spank your ass raw.”

you obey. she scoots back further on your bed so you can maneuver your way to lay your stomach across her thighs. your upper body and legs rest on the bed as your ass is slightly positioned in the air.

you can’t see her face, but you know sevika’s smirking as she’s finally got you where she wants you.

she coos at you, tugging slightly at the loose shorts you threw on after you got home from the bar, “look at you in these little fuckin’ shorts, so slutty.”

she slides her hand up your outer thigh, moving closer to your ass.

all of a sudden, she pauses her movements.

she leans down, her mouth next to your ear, “we can stop at any time. jus’ let me know, doll.”

your heart clenches at her words, feeling the intense emotion behind them and now knowing deep down that she doesn’t want to actually hurt you.

it turns you on even more.

“want it vika, p-please.”

she lets out a sound that’s of a groan and a growl, “fuck yeah, baby. gonna punish you—gonna make it hurt,”

“gonna take it? gonna be a good girl for me?”

“ye-yes! yes!”

sevika hooks the fingers of her human and mechanical hand under the waist of your shorts and roughly tugs them to the floor.

“fuck… no panties too? my god,” she admires you.

you say nothing as her hand finds its way back to moving up your thigh and finally grips your ass, kneading the plush flesh.

“gonna actually do anything or?…” you get cocky, too impatient to feel her hands on you.

a loud ‘SMACK!’ sounds throughout the ambient space of your bedroom, the pain searing into the skin of your right asscheek, making you scream out into the bedspread.

“fuckin’ brat, like i said.”

you’re met with another ‘SMACK!’ in the same spot. you scream out again except this time, it sounds a hell of a lot more like a moan.

“can’t believe you’re gettin’ off to this. bein' my little painslut…”

she hits you again, “you like when i hurt you? don’t you, baby?”

“yes!” you’re repeating, face still smushed into the blankets.

“what was that?” she presses further as she tangles her hand into your hair and yanks it upwards.

“f-fuck! yes, yes!”

she spanks you again and again, alternating between each cheek until you’re sobbing.

although she hadn’t spanked you more than 15 times, you felt as though it was 10 times that much.

she’s soon rubbing a soothing hand over the expanse of your ass, attempting to calm the ache in your ass while neglecting the one in your cunt.

“my girl. did so good for me, baby. so, so good.”

she sits you up and props you up next to her. you wince as your ass meets the surface of your bed.

“we’re not done. gonna make this pussy feel so good, i’ve been neglecting her haven’t i?”

“mhm…touch me please.” you’re out of it, eyes lazily gazing into hers.

“suppose i should reward you?”

her hands caress the sides of your neck and she captures your lips in a gentle and passionate kiss.

as her lips meet yours, the world is silent, all you can think of is sevika.

the kiss soon turns sloppier, needier. your tongues clash against one another causing saliva to drip down both of your chins.

it’s disgusting really, the definition of swapping spit.

neither of you seems to care though. you both moan through the kisses, gripping at each other.

she breaks the kiss to tear your shirt off your body.

“such pretty tits… so beautiful.”

you lean in and peck her lips, “want you bad, vika. please just fuck me already,” you beg.

“you’re beggin’ me?”

“yeah,” you respond.

“fuckin’ beggin’ me, huh?”

“fuck yeah, baby,” you respond another time, your bedroom eyes never leaving hers.

this back-and-forth dirty talk makes the both of you so wet, that the need between you increases with each exchange.

“you don’t even realize how much of a whore you sound like when you say that shit, baby."

oh, you know.

“i love it,” she doubles back.

“gonna eat you first, get you ready for my cock.”

you pause.

‘she didn’t… did she?!’ you exclaim in your head, incredibly surprised she brought an entire strap-on to your house.

“mm… back the fuck up, lean up against the headboard.”

you do as she says, spreading your legs for her in the process.

“good fuckin’ girl.”

she kisses down your neck, stomach, and thighs—her mouth now dangerously close to your naked cunt.

“perfect pussy… so pretty and wet.” she blows cold air on it, admiring the way you clench as she does so.

she laughs out loud, “you’re clenching around nothing, baby… you need this dick in you.”

you don’t even notice you’re looking up at the ceiling, you then look down at her between your thighs—you notice her pants are pulled off. her mech hand is gripping her black plastic cock through her boy shorts.

it’s huge. you’re not sure if it can even fit inside you and that makes you crave it more.

you moan at the sight, “mhm! yes! need it in my pussy. wanna cum on it.” you manage out. your brain is mush!

“soon,” she promises.

she suddenly delves into your pussy, tongue experimentally licking around your folds, then your hole, and your clit.

you’re on cloud 9. your cunt twitches with need because you can feel every detail of her mouth dragging along your heat.

your moans are uncontrollable as she’s practically making out with your cunt, her spit drips onto your clean bed as she’s sloppily eating your pussy out.

she’s nasty with it, spitting on it, getting it dripping wet for you to take her.

“fuck! please!! gonna cum!” you yell out.

all of a sudden, you’re met with cold air. and your cunt is met with a thought to be forgotten ‘SMACK!’

you yelp out in pain and pleasure, the mix too overwhelming for your poor pussy to handle.

“you cum when i fuckin’ tell you to. ask me if you can come next time.”

“‘m sorry vika! promise i won't do it a-again.”

“yeah, yeah. turn around.”

you whine at the loss of her mouth on you; it just feels so good. but you listen anyway.

you’re in doggy facing the headband with your back slightly arched as you look back at her behind you.

she lifts her shirt over her head; she has nothing on underneath, giving you a full view of her sculpted abs. you graze them with your fingertips, amazed at how beautiful she is.

“beautiful, gorgeous…” you state to her and your eyes meet hers once again, showing her you mean what you’re saying.

she huffs out in…shyness? she looks down at the bedspread below you two and she tugs down her boy shorts, throwing them next to all of the other clothes that are splayed out on the floor.

“gonna put it inside, alright? gonna make you feel it.”

you look forward and your eyes trace the design of your headboard, anticipating her cock pushing inside of you, anticipating the delicious pain.

she eventually does push the toy inside of you, bottoming out quickly.

she gives you a moment to adjust. you both are breathing heavily and your nimble fingers grip at the sheets, mouth forming into the shape of an o because she’s so fucking deep.

one of her hands comes up to force your face into the pillows. she starts to move her hips slowly.

“fuuuuck, doll. arch that back,” she can feel the slow grind of your hips on her clit as you press back into her and arch slightly.

it’s not enough for her. she presses her other hand into the small of your back to truly get it so she’s as deep as she possibly can go in this position.

“oh my f-fucking god!” you’re moaning into the pillows, still as loud as if you were screaming.

she’s sped up now, her plastic cock digging into you swiftly yet deliberately.

“yeah…arch that shit, gimme that pussy, baby.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you’re still moaning into the pillow. you can feel every ridge, every detail of her.

your pussy twitches with need, your slick dripping down your thighs, cunt squelching and eyes rolling to the back of your head because of the rough way she’s handling you.

“can feel you around me, i swear. you’re so tight, baby, s-shit…”

she’s bullying your cunt relentlessly and her dirty talk is making you so unbelievably wet.

“you love this dick, don’t you? you love when i fuck this pussy, huh?”

“yes, vika! yes! just like that! love it!”

“say you’re sorry. say you’re sorry for being such a bratty little bitch.”

“hmmph!” you defy her, for fun perhaps.

she slows down tremendously compared to the pace she set before, giving you shallow thrusts to match your attitude.

“say you’re fuckin’ sorry or I’ll make sure this pussy never cums again. you’re only cumming from me, so you’ll do what the fuck i say.”

whew.

“c’mon, baby say you’re sorry so i can give you this dick. gonna make you cream on it so good if you just let go,”

she continues, “i know you want it… know you want it in your guts. know you want my cum in you," she's delirious.

gripping your hip with her free hand and your hair with the other, she lifts your head out of the pillow so she can hear you better.

you cave.

“i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry, baby. i promise i’ll be good! pleeease just fuck me! need you. need your cum…”

she leans down and kisses the small of your back, “see, now how hard was that?!”

she moves her hips at a faster pace than before, seemingly deeper as well. your face has found its way back down, voice muffled into the sheets.

“yeah, baby, take this shit—take it aaaaalll in this fuckin’ pussy. pussy’s so good for me.”

“oh f-fuck, ‘s so deep!” you look back at her once again. her teeth are biting into her bottom lip, hips snapping against your ass as she stares down at you wildly, watching the toy disappear inside of you.

you then meet her eyes, completely cockdrunk. you beg her again, “please v-vika… need your cum in my pussy. need you to knock me up.”

“give it to me, give me your cum! want it deep in me, wan’ it!”

she growls out, “f-fuck shit’s gonna make me cum.”

“fuckin’ pussy is sucking me in, gonna make me get you pregnant, baby,”

her hips are still pistoning into you, the room filling with sloppy wet noises and smacking skin.

“i’m b-begging you to let me cum, p-please!” you’re still looking into her eyes, kindly asking her for permission to soak her faux dick.

“who’s fucking you then? say my name, doll.”

“you, sevika! you!! you’re the only one,”

“fuck yeah, you whore. ‘m the only one that’s gonna be in this shit from now on. that’s right…”

“plea-”

“cum. i want you to cum on this cock, make it yours. cum all over it,” she’s thrusting against your g-spot as deep as she can with one of her legs on the bed and her hands on your hips. you have no choice but to just, take it.

her words cause the coil in your tummy to snap, your orgasm crashing down on you like a brick to your head. like if a large rock were to crush you and kill you instantly. it’s rough, it’s overwhelming.

“fuck!!” you scream through it.

“i’m cummin’ too!! not gonna pull out. i’m gonna put a baby in you, get you nice and full,”

“mhm!! yes!”

the combination of you urging her on and the pressure of her hips and your ass fucking back onto them causes her movements to stutter, “s-shit!”

her orgasm washes over her much like yours, both her hands on your hips making it easier for her cock to kiss your cervix and for her clit to feel it.

you both eventually come down from your highs. sevika pulls out of you and quickly yanks the toy off.

you’re still in the same position so she presses down on your back to get you to rest your body on the comfortable and soft surface of your bed. you’re expecting her to tug her clothes back on and leave, but she doesn’t.

she praises you for the rest of the night, rubs aloe gel on your ass to soothe the welts, and loves on you as if she’d never hated you in the first place.

“you did so good, baby.”

“i’m so proud of you, you’re amazing.”

“you’re so pretty… you’re mine now.”

…

needless to say… she’s ruined you for everyone else. your petty rivalry long forgotten and replaced with the feelings that you’ve both been hiding. and as you’re both waltzing into silco’s office for a second meeting, he’s hoping for but not expecting for there to be a change in your relationship.

he is stunned when he’s met with no more eye rolls, scoffs, and bickering.

‘wonder what’s gotten into the two of them…’ he wonders.

well, something has definitely gotten into you.

…

I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN’T POSTED!! finals are over so i am free from the shackles of college! (for now…)

hope you guys like it! tbh this took me forever because i couldn’t figure out the plot LMFAKOW😭😭

[whtepony]

➻ mha boys + how they eat you out

ft. izuku midoriya, tenya iida, hanta sero (pt 1 here)

warnings: 18+ content!! mdni!!!! reader has a vagina but no pronouns used, idk slight dumbification in sero’s, not proofread

notes: idk what got into me i feel like these are so much longer than pt. 1 😭 anyway i lovvvvevvevve sero sm ugh that’s my man

izuku is a closeted perv and literally cannot get enough of you. not only is he a panty stealer but he is in love with the way you smell and especially the way you taste. he likes to catch you off guard while you’re occupied with something and drop to his knees in front of you, nudging between your legs and kissing over your panties while looking up at you with the sweetest smile. he’s straight up moaning into you the second he gets a taste and this boy is SOO eager to please. he’s a messy eater like denki and will literally study how your body reacts to his tongue. he learns allll the things that get you soaked and will use that against you. he just wants to make you cum as many times as possible! he’s pulling your hips closer to his face the more you unconsciously scoot back from all the overstimulation and will massage your thighs to comfort you while STILL going at it! “you can do one more, can’t you baby? just one?”

tenya definitely buys “she comes first” and reads it all the way through before eating you out for the first time and it’s so worth it! after the first time he learns that it’s an incredible stress reliever for him and now he asks for it all the time. and how could you ever say no?? everything this man does to you is romantic. he lays you down on your back so gently and kisses you everywhere he can reach while he undresses you. he’s the type to spread your folds open with his index and middle fingers and he doesn’t understand why you get embarrassed when he stares. you’re just so beautiful to him! tenya is super methodical with his tongue and (hot take) could probably give you the quickest orgasm of your life if he wanted to, but he likes taking his time! he’ll throw your legs over his broad shoulders and hum against you when your thighs close around his head. he also likes holding hands during it and rubs his thumb over yours subconsciously, his eyes closed while he gently sucks on your clit. you swear he looks the most relaxed when he’s between your thighs. “does that feel good, my love?”

hanta is a bigggg fan of 69 and you can’t tell me otherwise. he doesn’t even wanna cum he just thinks it’s so cute when you lose your rhythm or stop sucking him completely because of how good he’s making you feel! he’s talkative in bed too and will tease you about the way you moan around him while he’s pressing up against your g spot with his long fingers. also lovesss bucking his hips up into your mouth to make you gag when you stop moving. he’ll tease you constantly to get you worked up but you know he’ll always make it up to you. this man is a real freak and i love him for it!! he’s like a perfect combo of katsuki, denki, and izuku - hanta will start out crazy slow to tease you but always ends up making you cum at least three times with his tongue alone and has to keep going if he feels like you haven’t made a big enough mess yet. sheet changes are frequent when you let him get between your legs. he really just wants you all dumb and pliable before he even fucks you, which isn’t hard when he’s as good as he is! “i know baby, i know, promise ‘m gonna fuck you after this one..”

[dollishmehrayan]

# “YEAH I’M A BUSY WOMAN I WOULDN’T LET YOU COME INTO MY CALENDAR” ── .✦ ( batboys x uni!reader because why not ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

dollish note ౨ৎ: writing this while like two cans of coke zero and I genuinely might pull a crazy all nighter but I sleep at 5 am normally so WHO GIVE A FUCKK, anywayss this goes to my stress ridden babies due to midterms for you guys soon I thinkk (all of us 🥲) tags: (batboys x reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He brings you snacks when you’re studying and by “snacks” we mean full takeout meals because he forgets how to portion ( accidentally gets you like 10 different sauces because he didn’t know which one you’d want. )

Will absolutely FaceTime you during your breaks just to make you laugh and decompress.

“So what are we learning today, professor babe?” , “I’m not even a professor dick.” while spinning in your desk chair.

Offers to help you practice presentations and claps like a proud dad after. (YES HE’S THAT CRINGEY)

Shows up to your classes sometimes just to walk you home hoodie, shades, and all like he’s one of those celebrities who avoid paparazzi.

Brags about you constantly: “They’re in college. That’s hot.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Brings you coffee strong enough to revive the dead. “You said you had a paper due, I brought the goods.”

Pretends to not care but is 100% the one who stays up with you all night while you write essays.

Sits on the couch reading classic literature while you're buried in textbooks. "Need help understanding The Iliad? I gotchu." ( he’s the besttt explainer )

Might write your prof a strongly worded email if he thinks you got graded unfairly. You have to stop him.

“Study breaks” with him usually turn into making out. And somehow more caffeine. ( i volunteer to contribute i fear )

Secretly keeps one of your academic achievements (like a certificate or paper) in his bookshelf. Doesn’t tell anyone.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The ultimate study partner. Organized notes. Color-coded everything. Quizlet decks for days.

“You’re not sleeping enough. Here’s melatonin. And a planner. Also, breathe.”

Will pull all-nighters with you and still somehow get 100% on his own assignments.

If you’re freaking out, he builds a full 7-step action plan with deadlines, breaks, and snacks.

Occasionally goes “I read that journal article actually, it’s flawed,” and you’re like ( insert standing woman emoji fr fr 🧍‍♀️)

Loves helping you with research. You say “I need a source,” and he sends you 12 peer-reviewed papers in 5 mins.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦ ( AGED UP FOR THIS BUT NO NSFW!)

“Tt. University is easy. You're making it harder than it needs to be.”, “EXCUSE ME-“ But deep down, he’s in awe of how hard you work.

Brings you your favorite drink exactly how you like it without asking and knows what flavor of drinks you like too.

He proofreads your essays like he’s a dissertation committee. Will roast you but also fix every single grammar issue.

Draws you little doodles on sticky notes with encouraging messages like, “You are competent. Continue.”

constantly complaining to you to, “You should be getting more sleep.” “You should talk to your professor.” “You should eat breakfast.”

Acts unimpressed until you ace a test, and then he casually slips a gift into your bag like it’s no big deal.

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- when you ask them for an absurd amount of money as a prank

SCOUPS:

will transfer you the money, no questions asked. unless it's like an insane amount of money - like enough to buy a car - then he'd be concerned and ask why you need it. are you in trouble? are you being blackmailed? what can he do? he's ready to assist you in anyway possible and will be sulky when he finds out it's a prank. relieved, but a little sad that you'd even feel the need to test his loyalty to you.

JEONGHAN:

his immediate reaction is no. have you guys seen that interview where one of the members (i think it was dino? mingyu? my memory is so bad) said that jeonghan doesn't play when it comes to money and it lowkey stingy? yeah that. he'll definitely be hesitant and might even just flat out say no. extremely proud when you reveal it was a prank all along. i knew it was a prank, baby~ the student can't fool the teacher~

JOSHUA:

his immediately worried something terrible has happened. it's uncommon for you to ask him for money, usually its small enough sums that you don't even have to ask - you have his card anyways. stressed and annoyed when you tell him its all a prank. ai~ you know my weak heart cannot take you stressing me out.

JUN:

a little confused why you're asking him for money. he's the type to not catch on, you being in danger isn't the immediate thought when you ask him for 300 thousand dollars. will not react when you tell him it was a prank, the request for the money hasn't even properly computed in his head yet.

HOSHI:

he's going to complain he doesn't have that much money even though we all know he does. he'll agree to transfer it to you, but will whine and nag the whole time that this is his hard earned money! he loves you but why are you taking it away! another type to get sulky when you tell him its a prank and you don't actually need the money.

WONWOO:

ummm...why? he'll ask a shit ton of questions before agreeing, he needs to know why, when, what, where, who? all the details. this is his money after all, he needs to know where its all going. it gets to the point where you give up, just telling him its a prank cause his questioning isn't making it fun anymore. he tsks and asks if you have too much time on your hands to be pranking him.

WOOZI:

the money is in your bank account before you even finish asking. he's lowkey surprised you haven't asked sooner, he's always open with how much he's making and constantly tells you he'd just rather you guys have a joint bank account so he can spoil you. refuses to let you return the money once you admit its a prank. he makes more than enough anyways.

MINGHAO:

another one that's immediately worried. money's never been a topic you guys have ever talked about so he knows there must be something wrong. asks a boatload of questions trying to make sure you're okay and not getting scammed online or something. ends up just chiding you for even falling into a trap where you need that much money and narrows his eyes at you when you tell him its a prank. he thinks you're crazy and has too much time on your hands.

DK:

poor baby's scared. sure he makes a lot of money but he's never needed that much. eyes are popping out of his head when you tell him the sum of what you need. he agrees, of course, anything for you, but his hands are shaking as he reaches for his wallet. dramatically flops onto the floor when you tell him its a prank, begging you to never do that again - he might be rich but in his mind he's got like 5 cents in his bank account.

MINGYU:

blinks. pretends to think about it, but really he's been waiting for this day. the only possibility in his mind as to why you need the money is only for good things, and who is he to not spoil his baby? begs you to take his card anyways when you tell him its a prank. it's literally the only reason why i work, baby. just take my card.

SEUNGKWAN:

he's dramatic, screeching about how that's an insane amount of money and that he wouldn't even drop that kind of money on himself- and he loves himself very very much! calms down and genuinely sits your ass down to ask why you even need it. feels extremely betrayed when you tell him its a prank and vows to get revenge.

VERNON:

he sighs. he knows this trend and he's not having it. baby, you know i'd do anything for you right. you've got me like wrapped around your finger. you literally don't need to test my loyalty. apologizes when you get sulky over him already knowing the prank and offers to let you try again - this time he'll play along. ohmygod that's a lot of money are you being blackmailed? shopping in the black market? getting us a house in Bali? shrugs when you complain about his reaction being ingenuine and over the top. there is only so much he can do.

DINO:

his jaw is dropping at how large the sum is. yeah, he's got that money, and he'll show you his bank account just to prove it. but he'll start listing out what everything is for. that sum's set aside for our house, that one's to send our kids to school - we never said how many we'd have but i set aside enough to four university tuitions, and- you'll cut him off cause he's going to make you cry with how thoughtful he is. scolds him for ruining your prank. prank? he's confused. what do you mean prank? he got so invested in telling you everything he's saved up for your shared future he kinda forgot the original question.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

What if... Batsis with a oral fixation ⁉️

Not in a kinky way but like a stimming way, I have autism irl and I chew and bite on stuff to help get some feelings I'm not a fan of :P

Also I bite people I trust cuz Ik they won't mind or rlly judge me for it so what if batsis bites Grayson cuz she trusts him or somethin 🤯⁉️

A/N: So babes...i'm sorry this took a while. I was out of it for a while...I cannot stop biting my loved ones either...it's rough out here, really.

Characters: Dick, Tim, and Jason

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Dick wouldn't really mind it, I don't think?

Maybe at first he's like..."what ya got there..?" and it's just a whole chunk of his arm in your mouth.

He has a look of both concern and amusement on his face because well...this is a first.. But if he's aware of your usual oral stims and how you are constantly chewing or biting at something, I think he wouldn't question it further. It's easy to put two and two together, y'know.

But the fact that you only do it to him and maybe to the other siblings is enough for him to be okay with it. It makes Dick feel extremely special and dare I say honored to be a human chew toy. Dick adores anything that you do, especially if that thing is specifically because you trust him.

I think it'd be super cute having you hold onto his arm while ya'll are chilling on the couch. Maybe watching a scary movie, and because you're getting stressed so the entire time you are just gnawing on his bicep...poor guy. Lol but he actually doesn't even notice it after a while of you constantly doing it.

Like he's chatting with Babs and here comes your evil little teeth all ready to sink into his skin.

The only time I think he's be against it if he's super sweaty and gross or is trying to concentrate on something important....otherwise,,go ham.

But would I be crazy if I say his hair when it's long is perfectly chew-able.... like pleassseeeeee rachellll give it to meeee

I can imagine him giving you some of his bracelets to chew on. I imagine he wears these string bracelets and they are perfect chewing material.

*you have almost bit his entire finger off...*

Jason would be a bit turned off from it.

He's not particularly keen on you biting him. It doesn't feel good, it maybe even a bit irritating or stressful for him. This is not to say he thinks that your fixation needs to go but he'd rather you do it to anyone else instead.

Maybe he'll give you one of his old jackets for you to chew on. it's perfect, he got it cleaned and it has tons of tabs and buckles for you to chew. That way you can still have something of his to fixate on without necessarily bothering him. It does kind of warms his heart when you choose his items to stim with tho. It's assuring that he's still able to help ground you even if it's in a different way....

Tim..does not care. Like the most he does is just give you a strange look, then goes back to whatever he was doing prior.

You aren't hurting him, nor is he irritated so who is he to force you to stop. It's clear that you are overwhelmed and needs something that'll help you make it through soo have fun, sis.

He never directly addresses it either. It's just a thing that he accepts.

Maybe if you are chewing on the him of his shirt and your saliva is causing it to get rather wet and slightly uncomfortable, he'll just go change the shirt and give it to continue doing your stimming with.

I feel like Tim just had random chew-able trinkets around his room too, maybe even keeps tough gummies or lollipops around as an alternative for you.

[girlyassumes]

Repetitively affirming isn't necessary

I need this reminder, and you might need it, too. A lot of coaches and content creators pitch the idea of repeating affirmations to saturate and help reprogram your mind. I've done it for a couple of manifestations now and it can definitely help, which is why I've talked about it here on my blog. However, when you're doing it so frequently, it can feel tiring, like you're experiencing burnout. I know this because I myself have been experiencing it lately and realized that this is definitely not how I'm supposed to feel.

Think of all the times you've made a decision, only stated it one time, and then it came to fruition. Or how you might've rampaged for only 5 minutes and then you manifested what you wanted. There's already proof that you don't have to repeat your affirmations over and over to get what you want. And, if you're like me and feeling burnt out from ridiculous amounts of repetition, then stop yourself. Whether you're doing it in your mind, scripting a lot, etc, slow down if it's causing you stress and burnout. Because, again, that is not how it's supposed to feel.

Looking at my successes, both big and small, I've noticed it didn't come from affirming over and over again, weeks on end. It came from being in a state of confidence and convincing myself that I already had what I wanted, not worrying and stressing that it's not something I have yet. I am very guilty of stressing myself out with one of my seemingly bigger manifestations, which absolutely sucks but it can happen when it feels like a big leap and you feel it needs to show up in a short period of time. There can also be underlying feelings that you might not be catching onto to, like, doubtfulness, disbelief, unworthiness, etc. These feelings might be subconsciously manifesting themselves into your present state, making it feel harder and more stressful for you. I know damn well because I've put myself through it.

So then, what's the solution? Well, we have to dodge those doubts and what circumstances are being thrown at us, because those doubts and insecurities are what's causing problems in the first place. Affirm when you're experiencing feelings of doubtfulness, disbelief, and stress. You don't have to constantly affirm like there's no tomorrow. Affirming is here to keep you in that positive, wish fulfilled state. It's here to remind you that you already have what you want, no matter what your 3D reality is trying to push. View affirmations as your safety net, not what you constantly need to do in order to get your manifestation. Techniques (like repetitive affirming) are there to assist; they're not requirements for you to get what you want. If repetitively affirming helps, then do it. But, from my own experience, I've done it too much at times and it fried my brain.

I cannot stress enough, LOA works paradoxically when it comes to timing and how it shows up. When we pressure ourselves too much on time, it'll slow down the manifestation from showing up. It's a form of acting as if it's not already ours. Don't say things like, "If I don't get this thing in [x] amount of time, it's not mine." or "Law of assumption doesn't work if I don't get it within the period of time I want it." That is doubt. Time - including timelines like the past and future - is something made up by society. Time is an illusion, as crazy as that sounds. If you take your focus off of it, it'll relieve so much stress and make your manifestation show up quicker. You also don't focus on how you'll get it because, again, there are infinite ways your manifestation can make its way to you. That is not for you to worry about. The action of manifesting is simply putting it out there that it's yours, not repetitively affirming, focusing on time, etc. Manifesting isn't a process - it's a simple action we take.

Something that relieves me - who's a worrywart and overthinker - is reminding myself that manifestation is 100% guaranteed to happen. Think of it like riding a mechanical bull at the bar. It's supposed to be fun and the object of it is to hang onto it without falling off. View the bull as what you're manifesting. You've gotta hold onto that bull and not lose your grip. If you stress about it and lose your grip, it knocks you off of it. But guess what? Even if you do, you can hop right back onto that bull and get a better grip on it. The only way you won't win a mechanical bull ride competition is if you say, "I give up" and don't try again. So, what I'm saying is that wavering is okay - it happens to all of us. But don't think it'll stop you from getting what you want and that you can't pick yourself back up just because you knocked yourself down. You. Cannot. Fail. At. Manifesting.

Also understand that if you tell yourself, "I'll just keep living life like I had been before I knew about law of assumption," things won't change or they won't necessarily improve. You are always manifesting, and when you do things like complain or let insecurities get to you, you'll subconsciously manifest things that are unfavorable. If you feel burnt out or stressed, understand that it's not because the thing you want isn't meant for you or that you're doing something wrong, it's you thinking from the state of "I don't have it" and forcing techniques onto yourself that aren't helping you. Don't put pressure on yourself and do something that brings you to a better state of mind, even if it's as simple as doing a hobby you enjoy.

Also keep in mind that there are times where manifesting change may feel uncomfortable because you're shifting your reality to one that you aren't used to. But realize you want that change because you noticed something in your life that's lacking; something that's making you unhappy. Ask yourself: Do you want to keep living the life you've been living without seeing any change or do you want to improve your life even if you experience feelings of discomfort for a short period of time? You decide. You're the operant power and can change your life for the better just by making a simple decision.

[vandme12]

Hello it’s my bday today!!! Can I request a silly/dumb reader (like the type to hug a lion or a bobcat just because it looks cute) with all LI?

(Or if you’re too lazy do V?)

LOVE UR WORK BTWWW

Happy birthday!! Since, Your birthday why not both!!! (I'm a softie) I wrote this as fast, As I can..

🩸 Ronin (Devil’s Butcher)

First reaction? Oh, he lives for this. You’re a walking disaster, and it’s the most entertaining thing he’s seen since his last murder.

"Aww, babe, you got a death wish? Cuz I do take requests."

Absolutely encourages your reckless behavior—until it puts you in actual danger. You try to pet a rabid dog? He’ll be cheering you on until the thing growls. Then it’s dead. No hesitation.

Thinks it’s adorable when you lack basic survival instincts. You see a bloodstained, locked door? You wanna open it. He lets you—he’s already behind you with a knife in case anything nasty jumps out.

Calls you "his favorite little idiot" with the fondness of a man whose entire schedule now revolves around making sure you don’t die stupidly.

If you ever try to hug him while he’s covered in blood, he just sighs—loudly—but lets you do it. "You are so lucky I think you're cute, sweetheart."

⚖️ V (Vigilante)

Immediate panic. He cannot handle you. He thought his biggest problem was the killers, and now he’s got to keep you from hugging wild predators because they look "fluffy."

Constantly muttering under his breath, “How have you survived this long?”

If you wander off? Expect to be fitted with a tracker. No, you don’t get a choice. He will not let you die on his watch.

Will catch you mid-air if you try to jump into a lion enclosure. His grip is bruisingly tight, and you can feel his pulse pounding. "You are going to give me a stroke."

Despite his exasperation, he becomes weirdly attached to your ridiculousness. If anyone else calls you dumb, though? They die. You’re his idiot, and he’ll be damned if anyone else gets to disrespect you.

"For the love of—stop touching the corpse."

💋 Angel (Heartsick Angel)

Angel’s a perfectionist—you stress her out. She loves you, but you are the reason she has headaches.

"Darling, why would you touch the live wires?"

Always keeps an eye on you because she knows you’ll wander off into danger if left unsupervised for five minutes. She won’t let you die—but she will lecture you after.

Any time you flirt your way out of trouble, she swoons. "Okay, I’ll admit, you’re adorable. Dumb, but adorable."

She definitely posts cute, dumb things you do on her social media. You trip over a curb? That’s going viral.

Absolutely melts when you hug her out of nowhere—even if it’s while she’s disposing of a body. "Sweetheart, there’s brain matter on my shoe—oh, come here, I can’t be mad at you."

🔪 Misaki (Quirky Hitman)

They love your energy. You are the human embodiment of a raccoon in a trash can, and Misaki finds it hilarious.

"Babe, babe—no, don’t poke the guy I just shot—oh my God, you’re so cute."

Zero judgment when you make bad decisions; they usually encourage it. You wanna hold a cobra? They’re already taking pictures.

Probably pulls stupid stunts with you. You’re climbing the fence to pet an ostrich? Misaki’s already halfway over.

But if something actually dangerous happens—like, real danger—they flip in a heartbeat. You’ve never seen them move that fast. "Okay, sweetheart, maybe no cuddling the angry biker. Let’s bounce."

Gives you gifts like child safety leashes and a helmet. "Just in case, babe~."

Extra! Special One-shot!!! Since, It's your birthday!!

A Small V Wishing You Happy Birthday

You wake up to the sound of something rustling outside your bedroom door. It’s soft, barely there, but distinct enough to pull you from sleep. You groggily glance at your phone—6:42 AM. Too early for any sane person to be awake.

Another rustle. Then a barely audible mutter.

Your brain is still foggy, but as you blink against the dim morning light, the pieces come together. That voice—muffled and hesitant—sounds a lot like V.

The realization jolts you fully awake. V isn’t the type to show up unannounced, much less lurk awkwardly outside your door. He’s too methodical, too controlled. You’d expect a text, maybe a late-night voicemail with a clipped “Happy birthday.” Something distant, impersonal.

But this?

You slide out of bed as quietly as possible and pad over to the door. When you open it, you’re met with the sight of V standing stiffly in the hallway, holding a small, hastily wrapped box in both hands. The paper is slightly crinkled, unevenly folded—like he struggled with it for an embarrassingly long time.

You stare at each other.

V clears his throat, adjusting the high collar of his coat. “You’re awake.”

You arch a brow. “You’re here.”

His jaw twitches. “It would seem so.”

A beat of silence. Then he shoves the box at you, a little too forcefully, like he’s eager to get this over with. You barely manage to catch it.

“Happy birthday.”

It’s so… flat. So stiff. So very V that you can’t help but smile. “Thanks,” you say, turning the box over in your hands. “Should I open it now?”

His shoulders tense. “If you must.”

You take your time peeling away the wrapping—partially because you want to annoy him, partially because you’re genuinely curious about what V could have possibly gotten you. When you finally get to the box inside and lift the lid, you freeze.

Nestled in the packaging is a sleek, custom-made knife.

Your breath catches. It’s beautiful—elegant but functional, the kind of weapon that feels balanced the moment you pick it up. The hilt is engraved with something small, almost imperceptible at first glance. You squint at the delicate script.

It’s your name.

Hand-etched.

Your stomach flips. “V…”

He exhales sharply, as if bracing himself. “It’s a tactical knife. Durable. Efficient. I tested it myself.”

Of course, he did.

You run your thumb over the engraving, heart thudding against your ribs. “You… got me a knife with my name on it?”

V shifts his weight, crossing his arms. “You’re careless.”

You blink.

“You’re reckless,” he continues, as if reciting a list of grievances. “You attract danger. You make ill-advised choices. It’s—” He pauses, inhaling sharply. “It would be inconvenient if something happened to you.”

Your grip tightens around the knife. Inconvenient. That’s what he says, but his face tells a different story. His usual rigid composure is there, but his eyes… They betray something else. Something raw and unspoken.

He cares.

V cares enough to be here, to give you something this personal, to mask his concern with clipped words and sharp edges.

Your chest warms.

“V,” you say, softer this time. “Thank you.”

He glances away, uncomfortable with the weight of your gratitude. “… Don’t mention it.”

You don’t press him. Instead, you flip the knife in your hand, testing its weight. “So, when do I get a lesson on how to use it?”

V huffs. “You already lack self-preservation. Do you intend to make my life more difficult?”

You grin. “Absolutely.”

He sighs but doesn’t argue. Instead, he mutters something about bad decisions and getting dressed before training.

You’ve had a lot of birthdays, but somehow, this might be your favorite.

[maccreadyswife]

Okay. Okay

I think Deacon is by far the most tragic Fo4 companion because my GOD he spends so much time, as MacCready says, “being anyone but himself.” Literally you never learn his real name. He’s constantly watching his friends and allies die all for a cause SO much bigger than themselves.

Deacon never gets that chance at happiness and true companionship that the others get. He stays with the Railroad. He keeps his secrets and theirs to the end. You never find out… much at all about him. He always joking and saying random things and it’s such a perfectly crafted distraction from… finding out anything real.

The constant changing disguises, the lying, the. Just everything. His saying he prefers to be alone because getting too close could get him and his allies hurt all over again. He also says he likes traveling with you, but his base instinct is to just “pop a stealth boy and bug out.”

Also. The making up for his past mistakes and actions against synths. The actual RISKING HIS LIFE and throwing away his ENTIRE own identity, his being, for the sake of this cause. I cannot stress enough that this man has no identity left of his own anymore, and what there is is buried underneath so many layers that you, and probably he— will never find it again.

Also I’m adding to this. If you betray the RR for the Brotherhood or Institute, Deacon’s (cut) line about “how could you betray us… betray ME” and the actual rare hint of REAL emotion in his voice before he immediately turns on you. Someone he’d put trust into, someone he actually thought was going to do good for the Synths and for the Railroad. He doesn’t hesitate. That probably legitimately hurt him so much to do.

Deacon is not a character I can wrap my head around easily. He’s not someone I can conceptualize or fit into any box or any one sort of character trope. For that reason, I find him absolutely fascinating, and also completely heartbreaking.

[silkscream]

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

[lologoinsolo]

Part 3, Part 4

Minds Us All Masterlist

TW: Mentions of seizures, choking to induce visions, epilepsy and schizophrenia is mentioned, I don’t think there’s more but tell me if there is

Price stands by the board, his arms crossed over his chest as he reads over the scans and the numerous notes from the doctors that Nik sent over. The doctors were as thorough as could be expected but it left more questions than answers.

—High stress and anxiety could be the root cause for her seizures or there could be a potential for something more. The Patient's mother had a history of depression but nothing to indicate anything else. Patient’s health records show that she has not been tested prior for epilepsy or schizophrenia or for being at risk of seizures.

—Paitent experienced no symptoms of those neurological disorders at her young age despite being tested as per the request of Patient’s mother. Granted, the last time the patient was seen by her primary doctor was at the age of 9 years old.

—The most recent visit, which was a year ago, the hospital reported that she left without checking herself out. Her health chart only showed a high heart rate but was, surprisingly, not at risk of a heart attack. Unfortunately there is only so much that we are able to do in the short amount of time allotted to us. In our professional opinion, we believe that she is experiencing these hallucinations under strong duress. It could explain how she claims to ‘see’ the things she claimed she did.

Your brainwaves and the brainwaves of a woman around your age with schizophrenia are placed side by side. The difference between the two scans is stark, an ocean wide difference between the two. That woman’s brainwaves are lit up while yours is relatively normal. The doctors that came to see you cannot know for certain the cause behind your ‘sight’. Stress? Anxiety? That’s where it’s all pointing to at the moment.

Logically, this could explain that your ‘sight’ is caused by a stress factor and he could agree with that if you were spouting bullshit—But, you knew. You knew about Johnny’s near death before anyone could and it very well could’ve been explained if you were a spy. Price could work the spy angle but he can’t work around the fact that you knew about Simon’s family. You knew neither of his men on a personal basis and yet Kyle heard you murmur about Sarah, Joseph, Tommy, and Beth in your sleep. Names that he knows for a fact that Simon would never, ever mention even if he was being tortured.

Price takes in a long, hard breath. Laswell digged up everything she could find on you. Only child, mother was in an out of the psyche ward, father never claimed you nor was in the picture. At age thirteen, your mother took her own life and you were thrown from foster care to foster care up until you were 18 years old. You never went to college, bounced around from job to job. Moved from place to place, constantly moving like you had a reason to. He recalls how bare your apartment was when they came, “no roots to put down.” Laswell found absolutely nothing that ties you to Makarov. Nothing save for coded words you wrote. Furthering the nail into the coffin that you’re not a spy.

His eyes move up from what he’s reading when he hears boots hitting the ground. Doesn’t take a genius to know who’s coming around. “You want to talk to her, don’t you?” Price turns to the side when the Ghost steps inside. Giving his Lieutenant a look, he wasn’t allowed back in your room when the doctors came around.

“Yes.”

“That a good idea?” Ghost’s been spending time longer on the punching bag here lately. Nearly broke it open from how hard he’s been hitting. The safehouse they’re all in allows them a gym of sorts, well… it’s not really a safehouse. This place is Price's, a house far into the country and guarded by numerous trees. A private place that he took you to in hopes of getting quick answers. And just in case you turned out to be what he assumed, there’s enough land here on his property to hide a body from prying eyes.

“Johnny wants to as well.”

Now that… that might be a better alternative. Ghost can handle himself, he’s hung from a meat hook for god sake, he knows how to keep a handle on his emotions. Ever since you made him see what you saw he’s been… off. John’s been keeping a tighter eye on him even though he’s not fully convinced in your ability. He trusts Ghost enough to tell the truth even when it doesn’t sound believable. “Give me ten minutes with her, sir.”

Ten minutes is all he needs, you’ve been awake and alone for the past two days. You willingly allowed the doctors to help you, didn’t argue with them for fear that you’d be killed most likely. Or maybe you knew that they’d find nothing.

“I’ll give you that,” Price uncrosses his arms, stepping towards Ghost and his lieutenant doesn’t move away. Stays still like a statue. “Best to let Johnny go in first before you do, yeah?”

Ghost grunts out a “yes, sir” before he turns to leave. A man on a mission in how he steps. Price needs to sit over this, think over what can be done. Laswell mentioned that you should be tested one more, three times the charm after all.

…

Kyle came in earlier to bring you food and clothes to change out of. You asked him if you would be able to leave now but he gave you no reply. Only placed the food on the table and left. You don’t know what’s worse. The fact that you’re alone and craving some kind of contact or the fact that you’re glad he nor the one called John has come back to interrogate you. You don’t think you’ll be able to handle it once more.

Your mind has been empty, to say the least. The doctors recommended medication but you know they’ll do no good. It’ll only make your curse worse and do you no favors. Sometimes this’ll happen though, sometimes your mind will get so quiet that you’ll beg for a vision. It’s a horrible cycle but it’s one you’ve always known and it’s better than the silence. On the bright side, at least that Ghost hasn’t come back. You don’t know how you’ll react if he does or what he’ll do to you.

There’s a small pinch in the back of your mind but it fizzles away almost as quickly as it came. You brace yourself for what’s bound to come.

A knock sounds on your door, an illusionment of courtesy. The knob turns and in walks a man that you’ve met twice but have seen over a hundred times over in your mind. “Hello, bonnie.” There’s a jagged pink scar on his left side, his hairs a little longer, not the mohawk you saw originally. Beard grown out and scraggly looking, he looks rougher than you remember. “Can we,” he pauses a little to step into the room and you freeze up when Ghost steps in as well. “Can we just talk?”

Ignoring him in favor of seeing him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you immediately say to Ghost. “I’ve never done that before. I didn’t know I could do that. I’m sorry.” You still see his family's faces in your mind, can smell their blood staining the walls and on their Christmas tree. You’ve seen a lot of things but you could never stomach seeing deaths. “I’m—“

“Hey, hey,” Johnny comes your way as he speaks gently to quell your rolling anxiety. Your body flinches involuntarily from where you’re sitting on your bed by the sound of his steps. “Ye didnae ken ye could do tha’. We just want to talk.” Johnny pulls up a chair and notices the food at the table. You haven’t touched it nor the other two plates either. “Ye need tae eat, lass,” he laughs slightly, hoping to ease you, “when I was in and out of the hospital I—“

“I want to go home.” You cut him off. His hand twitches, “tell them, tell them I’m not a spy or a soldier or—“

“And where would you go home to, little bird?” Ghost’s arms are crossed over his chest. He stands besides Johnny, “got a place to go home to that we haven’t figured out yet?” Johnny turns to give Ghost a look but he ignores it in favor of continuing on. “Your visions tell you where to live now?”

“I’m sorry that you saw what you did. That wasn’t my intention, it’s never my intention. I can—“

“I didn’t ask for an apology.” He growls out, your knees tuck to your chest immediately. “How did you see them? Tell me.”

“Ghost,” Johnny tries to intervene in some way but it’s no use.

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” Your voice growing insistent, begging for him to understand. “It’s— it just happens. I-I can’t help it.”

“Can’t help it.” Ghost mutters under his breath. The muscles in his back are tense, pulled taunt. You’re like a fluttering bird in a cage from how you squawk the same thing over and over again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop. Apologizing.” He takes a step towards you and you scoot back further up the bed, practically pressing yourself into the corner. Johnny stands and places a hand on Ghost’s shoulder. The anger simmers only a little but the tension still stays. Ghost’s hands ball and flex, “can you do it again?” He asks, more like demands.

There’s a hush pause that overtakes the room, even Johnny looks to you for an answer. “I…” you swallow thickly, shaking your head slightly. “I might?”

“Might?” He doesn’t sound pleased with how unsure you sound.

“It’s uh…” you never knew how to explain it, your mother could never explain it herself either. “When…” you take a breath, “when you look into a kaleidoscope do you see the same thing if you move it around?” Johnny shakes his head no but Ghost does nothing, “that’s… that’s kinda how it’s like for me. Sometimes it’s clear enough that I can see it many times,” flickering to Johnny, his moments haunted you for the longest after all. “I don’t know if I can see yours again, Ghost.” His was more than just his memory, it showed a pocket of time before he even saw it. “I’m,” you almost say sorry again but you bite your lip.

“Price said ye started seeing mine after we met,” one accidental touch that led you here. Your visions never hanged around long, it’s why you came to the practice of writing them down. Your curse, for some reason, latched onto Johnny’s future and never let it go. “Saw it for about a year, did ye ken ye’d find me? Is that why ye came up to me?”

You cross your legs, feeling just a smidge at ease while you pick away at your fingers. “I couldn’t have day to myself without seeing you.” You look down to the shorts you're wearing, missing the look that settles in Johnny’s eyes. “There would be this static feeling in my head the closer I thought I got to you.” He was like a flame and you a moth, only the static got louder and louder the closer you were next to him that day. Maybe you weren’t supposed to find him…

“I’m sorry, hen.” You shake your head but he slowly steps closer to the bed. His knees bumbing the edge of the mattress. “I wouldnae be alive without ye. I heard yer voice in my head when I was on that mission. Heard ye screamin’ for me to pull back and I did.” He’s calm in his approach as he takes a seat now. Scared you’ll try to bolt off the bed if he moves too quickly. “Fucker still got me.” He points to his head, the scar telling a story of an almost death. You prevented that. “Shoulda seen me in recove—“

“Let me go home— please.” He sighs at your attempt to leave once more. “I won’t say anything, I won’t talk about this to anyone—“ your muscles seize when Ghost comes closer, his steps heavy against the floor. There’s no way to leave, you know their names save for Ghost. You’re hanging by a thread that can be snipped at any movement. “Please.” You can’t run or they’ll give chase but even then, there’s only so much space left in here. Boxed completely in with one sitting on the bed and one that could easily tackle you.

“I want ye to try,” Johnny sits closer to you now, the bed groaning under joined weights. “See somethin’ again, show me somethin’, hen.” His hands start moving for you now. “Can ye do that for me?”

“I-I don’t know if I can. I don’t,” you bite your bottom lip when his hands wrap around your wrists. His fingers wrapping firmly around them but still enough room that you could twist if you wanted to. “Please, stop. I don’t know if I can make it happen.” There’s the smallest of a buzz in the back of your head. “I’ve never been able to—“

“Try,” is all he says as he pulls you forward enough that you have to sit on your knees. Your trembling, fingers shaking as he maneuvers your hands to cup his face. You can’t pull away even when you try to do so. His blue eyes search yours, his scar damn near pulsing under your cold hands. “Just try, lass.”

Wobbly and unsteady like a newborn doe, your knees are weak as you close your eyes. Brows pinching tight lines in forceful concentration. Your curse only works when it wants to, never for you. The time spent goes to show that it’s not working the way they want it to, “I can’t,” you say once more. “It’s not working.” Hoping they’ll understand, you’ve never been able to just make it happen.

“Maybe you need some motivation,” Ghost doesn’t give you a chance to turn as he lands a solid hand on the back of your neck. The air you had in your lungs punches out, “just need some fear to get it rolling.” The last two times was through fear and if he needs to choke you out then he will.

“S-Stop—“

“I’ll start squeezing,” he warns, his thumb digging in, “won’t take much to make you pop.” He’s cruel in his laughter, Johnny says nothing as his grip stays steady even when you try to tug. “I’ve broken necks easily, just needs,” Ghost’s thumb presses deeper over your raging pulse, “enough force and it’ll crack.”

“Please!” Chest heaving now, anxiety shoots through the roof as your eyes are wet and frantic. You can’t move back, can’t move forward, can’t even swing to the side to get away. You try once more to make it work but, “it’s not wor—“ gasping suddenly. The walls of your throat tightens from his fingers coiling around it like a vice grip. A sharp static jolts to life, his hand squeezes more, air begins being cut off from you.

Your vision starts building up faster, almost painfully now as your grip onto Johnny’s head tightens. An itching, scratching noise burrows in the back of your head. There’s a screeching, halting sound, like nails that claw down a chalkboard but stops before finishing. It echos in Johnny’s ear that he winces at the same time you do. Your vision blurs whether because of the loss of air or because your curse is letting you see once more.

Laughter. Kids, 4. 1 boy. 3 girls. Blue eyes. Backyard. Swing set, swinging. Laughter.

Johnny inhales a breath, he sees the blurred moments alongside you begin to form. Like a projector being cranked to make an old timey movie start. It’s slow but starts to pick up in pace, pushing through the memory faster and faster. Barreling down the spirals of a pocket of time.

You can see a young Johnny playing with his sisters. It’s a warm sunny day, the heat beating down on them and you. He’s swinging and his mother is yelling at him to get off to come eat some snacks. He swings as high as he can before jumping right off. His sisters scream when he lands hard, blood on his mouth and he pulls a tooth out. There’s laughter from him, he’s laughing. His sister, his oldest sister is—

You struggle for air, lungs painfully begging for something to breathe in. You're pulled out, shoved forcefully away from the memory. Figures form in the shadows as your eyes look wildly around. “Good,” you hear Johnny say but it’s distant, far away from you. Miles away. Your forehead is heavy against his shoulder, you don’t know when you did that. Did you do that? Must’ve done so as your mind started twisting into knots, for once you don’t convulse like you typically do but something is wrong. Really wrong.

Ghost let go of your throat the second you started gasping for air. Only seconds for him but to you? You saw 30 minutes of Johnny’s memory. “Well?” He peers down at the both of you, “report, Johnny.”

Johnny tugs you easily into his lap, your body limp against him. “I saw it, Ghost. Saw it like I was there.” They speak now as if you’re not there. Are you here? Where are you right now? Your head tucked under his chin as your heart beats fast while you feel like your realities are blurring and blending together. “We cannae let her leave.”

“Never planned to, Sergeant.” A voice that’s not Ghost’s sounds from behind the two. Price leans against the door frame, he knew they were up to something. Just had to let it happen.

The shadows dance around in your mind, the kaleidoscopes of moments and memories of your own past starts to mash together. The webs are all sticking and rolling into a ball. You feel like you're floating and crashing at the same time. It’s becoming harder and harder to pull away from it. Harder to separate what’s real and what isn’t. Johnny holds tighter to you when you begin shaking. Head hitting against his chest as—

“We need to sedate her.”

— the static buzzing noise sharpens louder and louder. Your fingers spasm and hands thrash around, writing out words in the air. Make it stop, make it stop.—

“Not yet,” Price comes forward with a pen and paper, “she’s seeing something.” Ghost watches in cold curiosity, his eyes squinting under his mask as Price sticks a pen into your thrashing hand. He balls his over your right hand and holds the paper in his left. You jerk it around, scribbling jagged lines till words start forming.

Stop. Stop. Make it. Stop. Let go me. Let. Hand, Let.

“Tell me where Makarov is.” He whispers into your ear. “Where is Vladimir Makarov?” Your eyes roll back into your head as your legs kick out. The lower half of your body flails about while your upper is held tightly. “Write it down.” His voice echos in your head, becoming like an arrow as it breaks through the maze. Zeros you in like a beacon to follow and you fall deeper into the spirals of your vision.

Make it. Make off. Her. Her in. Rus. Northern. Lights north. Rush, make her off. Old. Building. Under, under. Guarded. Old, guarded. Weapons.

You fill the page with words you see that pile in your head. Picture like moments pour into your mind’s eye of a man you’ve never seen. It’s only half a second intervals, like someone’s slowed down the internet speed to the lowest setting possible.

Man. Man, 1. Talk, yells. Rush in. Rush. Hidden. Under. Ground under. Men. Loyal. Men. Men. Men. Cold, snow. New Clear. Nu. Er. Er, boots. Boots. Boots. Blinding Lighstj thaoies gbauqot—

Price pulls the paper away once your words start becoming unreadable. “Good enough,” he gives no sedation this time. You’ve never needed it before, “let her rest, Soap.” He allows you that as your left on your side. Soap reluctantly stands up as you're left to tremble, you’ll pull out on your own time. He reads over what was written and a location comes to mind. “I’ve a feeling I know where our Russian is.”

[zumek0]

college bf! headcanons; kozume, k.

↪︎ headcanons, gn reader, fluff, a little angst but very mild, mentions of an unspecified argument but it gets resolved, allusions to an anxiety attack, mentions of marriage.

↝ summary: headcanons about your and kenma’s relationship.

College bf! Kenma who can take all his classes remotely but still takes two in-person electives so that you both can walk together to and from campus.

College bf! Kenma who isn’t one to wake up early (the earliest he can wake up is 10 a.m.) but makes an effort to do so when he knows you have an important exam so that he can have breakfast with you and wish you good luck.

College bf! Kenma who doesn’t listen to music that often (maybe sometimes has a video game's OST playing as background noise while finishing assignments) but still listens to every single song you recommend to him.

He always tells you his thoughts on each song (even if he doesn’t particularly like it).

College bf! Kenma, whose anxiety prevents him from openly showing you affection in public, but makes up for it by clinging to you constantly while in private.

College bf! Kenma who, after spending the night, makes sure to leave at least one hoodie at your apartment.

He insists that it’s so that he has clean clothes to wear if he needs them but then gets pouty whenever you wear one of yours instead of his.

College bf! Kenma who loves having you sit on his lap or between his legs while he games.

Usually, he rests his head either on your shoulder or atop your head.

Whenever he gets bored or his wrist starts bothering him (you cannot tell me he wouldn't have carpal tunnel syndrome, lol), he leans back and wraps his arms around you, letting you take control for a while.

College bf! Kenma who cries when you two have the first “big” argument of your relationship.

He prides himself on staying level-headed in stressful situations and looking for solutions instead of panicking and falling into despair.

So then, why does he feel like this? Why does he feel so angry? Why does his skin feel uncomfortable? Why is his mind making up scenarios where you break up with him? Why does he feel like there’s a black hole where his stomach should be? Why does his chest feel like he’s on the verge of a heart attack? Why does he feel so guilty?

The last two hours repeat themselves over and over in his mind. Why did he say all those things? Why did he act that way towards you? Why did he hurt you like that? Why does he keep crying?

Eventually, you both calm down enough to talk and resolve the issue.

He decides that he never wants to go through that experience again.

Especially not if you felt even half as bad as he felt.

College bf! Kenma whose mom asks about you every time he calls her son.

If you happen to be around, she’ll always ask to talk to you for a bit (more like an hour and a half).

He's pretty sure she only calls him as an excuse to talk to you.

Eventually, he sends her your phone number and feels slightly offended that she doesn’t call nearly as often as she used to.

College bf! Kenma who keeps trying to convince you to move in with him as it would be more cost effective and convenient. 

College bf! Kenma who, when you eventually agree to live together, lets you search for a new apartment as you insisted on starting fresh.

College bf! Kenma who, when you move into your new place, you drag out to Walmart at 8 p.m. to buy two cups, insisting that they’re a symbol of this new stage of your relationship.

College bf! Kenma who finds himself wanting to become Fiancè! Kenma more and more everyday.

finally posting this after having it sit in my drafts for half a year 🫠 i also finally learned how to make my html text work for the colored words lol. reblogs and likes are appreciated!

—han

[robertpattersonsleftcoochieflap]

FTM!Wanderer x Reader

Unexpected treats are the best kind of treats~

Wanderer x Reader

Contents: ftm!wanderer, eating out, fingering, wanderers god complex comes out.

Summary: Reader and wanderer are getting frisky but reader realises that something is not quite right and investigates (with their mouth)

Authors note: I've been a trans scara truther since day 1 and cannot handle the lack of content for my boy. Like, damn. Can a bitch not eat any boy pussy around here.

It was often that Wanderer and (Y/n) would meet up like this, now. Whether it be in an old storage closet or an empty office - they'd always end up in the same position. (Y/n) kneeling on the floor between Wanderer's legs, worshipping him in his most intimate places.

They could still remember the first time it happened.

(Y/n) and the famed Wanderer had always had this thing going on between them. They'd bicker constantly. It was almost an unspoken competition on who could annoy the other first.

This time, they were stuck together in the empty academia library. Sticking the new order of books on the shelves. It was late on a Friday, and all the academia students were out for the weekend. Yet the library was anything but silent.

"Will you shut up and do your job, unsightly worm." Wanderer snarked, purposely hitting (Y/n) in the face with his long sleeves as he flew past to place the next stack of books.

(Y/n) snorted.

"Y'know, for someone so short you do have a large temper," (y/n) smirked - they knew the subject of height was touchy for her coworker, "It's truly impressive how you fit all of it in one body... along with your huge ego."

Wanderer flew past again, shoving into them once again.

"It's a wonder how you keep that ugly, fat head of yours on your shoulders." The temperament blue boy sniped back, this time staying next to (Y/n) to stack books on the shelf beside them.

"Wow is that really the best you've got." (Y/n) faced him, crossing their arms over their chest.

Wanderer's perfect lips curled into a scowl.

"I have nothing else to say to pathetic losers like you."

(Y/n)'s face soured, "HEY. Don't. Be. Such. An. Asshole." They poked at Wanderer's chest between every word.

The Wanderer bared his teeth at them, roughly slapping away their hand.

The pair stopped and stared each other down like a pair of feral dogs. The tension was thick.

(Y/n) struck again, poking Wanderer's hard chest with more force.

Wanderer repeated his previous action.

They repeat a few more times, each action getting rougher, until they eventually escalate to shoving each other around the library.

(Y/n) gasped as their back hit the shelve, their chest heaving. Their hands still gripping tightly at the front of her assailants' clothes.

Wanderer glared deeply into (Y/n)'s eyes. The tension thick enough to cut with a claymore.

(Y/n) once again made the first move, roughly pulling the shorter man in and kissing him. The response was immediate. Quickly becoming another battle for dominance between them.

All the months of built-up frustration between them finally being released.

(Y/n) bucked their hips into his. Their tongues and teeth clashing together. Neither of them seemed to care though. Wanderer's delicate hands gripped (Y/n)'s waist, matching the rhythm of their hips.

They continued like this for a while, their hands groping and fondling each other, until finally (Y/n)'s hand trailed down to his crotch.

Their hand fumbled around the front of his pants, feeling around for the expected hardness. Only to realise they couldn't find it. (Y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, still not breaking the kiss.

Is he not into it? They stressed in their mind.

Wanderer broke the kiss, his lips moving down (Y/n)'s neck, where he nipped and sucked. The recipient moved their neck, giving him more room for him, moaning at his actions.

(Y/n)'s eyes fluttered at the feeling, their anxiety washing away. He wouldn't be this into it if he didn't want me, right? Maybe his pants are too thick. They resumed fumbling with his pants, their hands unbuttoning them and weaseling in, continuing to rub around.

The man groaned into their neck, humping the hand between his legs. He was not used to this feeling.

(Y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, continuing to search his pants for something that was apparently not there.

He's gotta be into it? Maybe he's just small-- Their finger made contact with the wet patch in his underwear. Oh.

OHHH.

It finally clicked.

They knew what they had to do now.

(Y/n)'s free hand came up and pulled the blue haired man away from their neck and resumed their kissing. Carefully navigating him backwards until he hit a desk.

Wanderer grunted at the movement.

(Y/n) pulled their other hand out of his pants and worked on pulling them down. Once his pants were down they moved back to look Wanderer in the eyes. The mans eyes snapped open and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Is this alri-" (Y/n) was cut off.

"Did I say stop, worm." The blue haired brat snarked.

(Y/n) blinked. "I wanted to ask can I-" They were cut off again.

"Yes. Now hurry up." Wanderer gripped the back of (Y/n)'s hair and brought them back into an impatient kiss.

Damn bitch, okay. (Y/n) mentally rolled their eyes at his behaviour. What did they expect. They pull away from his soft lips and start kissing down his neck. Making their way down to the waistline of his breifs.

Wanderer looks down at (Y/n) kneeling between his legs and he swears his nonexistent heart started thumping. He felt like he was being worshipped. Like a god.

(Y/n) stared deeply into Wanderers eyes, their fingers curling into the waistband of his underwear, before pulling them down. Exposing him.

The mans eyes widened in surprise and a ferocious blush bled onto his cheeks. His mechanical pump working overtime to push blood around his body.

"Wh- what the hell are you-" Wanderer was cut off abruptly and gasped.

(Y/n)'s tongue delved deeply into the wet heat between his legs. Groaning loudly at the taste. Their nose buried in the neat tuft of blue hair above his slit.

Wanderer's legs almost give out, causing him to prop hiself onto the table. (Y/n) took the opportunity to hike one of his legs over their shoulder, spreading him wider.

(Y/n) ate him out like it was their last meal, savouring every flick of their tongue. Their hand gripping the leg on their shoulder. Their free hand trailing up and sliding into Wanderers weeping hole.

Wanderer's hand flew up and gripped (Y/n)'s hair, his head falling back. His thighs trembled around their head. He had definitely never felt anything like this before. He felt like his artificial nerves were on fire.

A broken noise came from his throat.

(Y/n) sped their fingers up, curling them and latched onto his clit, suckling on it. The thighs around their head shook violently ans the fingers against their scalp tightened.

Wanderer felt something inside him tighten, then break. He let out an almost primal noise as he gripped (Y/n)'s head with both hands, holding them tighter against him as he rode their face.

(Y/n) let him ride out his orgasm on their face, his juices dripping down their chin and hand. It had a slight buzz to it, tingling on their tongue. It was addictive. They pulled their fingers out of Wanderer and gave him one last lick before standing up and taking his head onto their shoulder.

Wanderer leant his weight onto (Y/n) as he came back to his senses. They stayed like that for a few minutes before he sat back up and stared deeply into (Y/n)'s eyes, a lazy smirk rising on his face.

"Again."

Extra:

"EH?! WHERE DID THIS STORM COME FROM?! HURRY UP AND GET MY KEYS OUT ALHAITHAM MY HAIR IS GONNA BE RUINED!"

Me trying to convince you all that wanderer is trans.

[holylulusworld]

Two Souls - A Christmas snippet

Summary: Bucky Barnes and the winter soldier are your mate. Life with them is easy cause none of them would ever let anyone hurt you.

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader; Alpha!Winter Soldier (Barnie/Winter) x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, fluff, true mates, protective Bucky/Winter Soldier, pregnant omega

A/N: Before part 3 finally drops, we are getting a little Christmas snippet.

Catch up here: Two Souls (2) - One Love

Bucky watches you with worry. Like Barnie, he is constantly concerned about you. Not only because you’re carrying their babies.

“She’s in the kitchen for too long. We should stop her from stressing over baking cookies.”

Barnie nods thoughtfully. He knows how much baking cookies means to you. You love Christmas, and expecting two babies with the alphas you love, made you even more nostalgic.

You want to indulge in all the traditions you loved as a child: baking cookies, decorating the house, listening to the most awful Christmas songs, and cooking for your family.

“We will help her,” Barnie finally says. He was watching you with fascination. It will be the first Christmas he can celebrate as his own person, not hidden in the back of Bucky’s mind. “I want to make cookies.”

He walks into the kitchen to look at the dough you rolled out.

“What’s this?” Barnie points at the snowman cookie cutter. “It looks like a—” He frowns while trying to find the right word. He still has problems finding the right words sometimes. It will take more time to learn all the things he missed out on while being trapped in Bucky’s mind.

“Snowman, alpha,” you softly say and grab his hand to place the cookie cutter in the palm of his hand. “See, this will turn the cookies into a cute snowman.”

“Snowman,” he repeats the word, smiling. “I like snowmen…I think. They are made of snow and only live in winter. I was Winter too…”

“Yeah,” you chuckle as Barnie looks at you like a puppy. “You were Winter too, Barnie. You still are.”

He grins now. “Winter is here to stay.”

“Alright kids,” Bucky walks into the kitchen, feeling left out. He stands to your left, while Barnie stands to your right, still looking at all the cookie cutters. “What are we making? Did you sit enough today and have a rest?”

“I sat the whole morning, Bucky,” you giggle, and throw some flour at him. “I’m fine, really. No pain, no exhaustion. I know my body. The babies sleep right now, and I want to finish the cookies.”

“We will help,” he says and grabs one of the cutters. Your alpha chuckles because the cutter looks like a tiny version of his metal arm. “Uh—is that my metal arm?” Bucky furrows his brows and looks at you.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “It’s a custom-made cookie cutter. Tony made them all for me.”

“A snowflake,” Barnie sounds like an excited child while holding the cutter in his hand. It looks like a wonder to him, and he feels his heart flutter. “That’s me, right?” He looks at you. “I’m Winter, and that’s a winter cookie cutter.”

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling. “I know you have a new name now, but the snowflake reminded me of you and the time we spent together when you were still Winter, Barnie.”

“I like it,” he presses the snowflake to his chest, smiling at Bucky. “I got my own cookie cutter.”

“Me too, punk,” Bucky laughs. “How about we cut those cookies with our cookie cutters? I bet I can cut more cookies than you in a minute.”

Barnie purses his lips and says, “I can cut more.”

You sigh deeply. “Alphas, no competition again! We want to enjoy baking cookies.” You give both alphas a stern look.

Both kiss one cheek to calm you. Giggling, you watch them choose their favorite cutter. Barnie goes for the snowflakes while Bucky chooses the tiny version of his metal arm.

“No competition, Barnie. Let’s bake cookies with our omega. Later, we can rub her feet and feed her with the cookies.”

Barnie nods eagerly. He cannot wait to rub your belly and feel the babies kick him.

“Winter will talk to the babies again. They need to know we are here to protect them.”

Tags in reblog.

[the-peak-tmnt]

Hey The Neon Void readers, quick update from the author's sister!

(art commission by @kaysdenofchaos)

Hi readers of The Neon Void fanfic. This is the author’s older sister. She’s been getting a lot of fan art and asks lately. She’s sent me screenshots of a few unanswered ones looking for advice on how to respond.

While all the love and support of TNV is genuinely appreciated, my sister @sugarpasteltmnt is not equipped to respond to a small handful of these asks/comments that are, quite frankly, inappropriate.

Sugarpastels is not a therapist, and she’s certainly not an internet stranger’s therapist.

She’s an adult with an extremely demanding and stressful job for a very large client. Some of you have already experienced and enjoyed her work IRL without knowing it. Her company is close to finishing another project that will bring a lot of joy to hundreds of thousands of people every year, but working on a project of that scale is extremely stressful.

She is writing this fanfic for fun. TNV is a way for her to decompress and put her creative energy towards something other than work.

What’s not fun is coming home to asks/comments from readers who are projecting their own struggles/mental health onto TNV, and even Sugarpastels herself, and demanding some sort of attention from her over it.

Let’s be real: it’s fun to watch our blorbos suffer! So much of fandom is just us putting our favorite characters in Situations because it’s fun. Simple as that. But I think another reason TNV has resonated so strongly with readers is because of the way Sugarpastels writes the internal struggles of these characters.

We are both aware that TNV deals with mental health topics. Since the early days of “modern” fandom, fanfiction has been a way for people to explore complicated, difficult and sometimes even taboo subjects. There’s no shortage of complex feelings being explored in TNV, which is why we’re all having so much fun reading it.

But that’s all it is; an exploration. Sugarpastels is not a mental health expert. I’ve read a handful of books on PTSD and mindfulness for research while writing my own fanfic, and I would never consider myself prepared to help someone else.

It’s okay if you relate to things from TNV. I know I do! Again, fanfic has always been a way to read about things rarely dealt with (or handled poorly) in published fiction/tv shows/movies. I will always argue one of the greatest things about fanfiction and other fanworks is being able to see ourselves and our own struggles through our favorite fictional characters.

But Sugarpastels is not a fictional character. She’s a real person. Most importantly (to me at least) she’s my little sister, and this big sister cannot handle watching some of her readers expect more of her than is appropriate.

So I’m asking you to please be mindful of what you ask/say to not just her, but literally everyone on the internet. Unless you’re chatting with someone regularly, they do not know you. Whether it’s friends, family, teachers, coaches, etc, there are people in your life who know you personally, and are therefore better equipped to help you than a stranger on the internet.

Sugarpastels is so full of empathy that it’s hard to not feel for you when you send things like this. But it just isn’t fair to put that kind of unnecessary pressure on someone who is, at the end of the day, just trying to have some fun writing about ninja turtles bein’ sad.

(That being said, PLEASE DON’T BE SCARED TO SEND HER ASKS AND FAN ART!!! They make her day every single time and are seriously so, so appreciated. She’s texting me about it constantly how much she loves all of TNV’s readers. This whole post is really directed at an extremely small percentage of her readers, but there have been enough I felt something needed to be said.)