#multi brawl

[ikilledmybrotherandimnotashamed]

Я босс художки?

Am I the boss of the art school?

(I don't think Americans will understand, so I'll explain right away: It's like a Russian joke. If a person has a lot of badges/keychains on his bag/backpack, etc., then he's called the boss of the art school.)

[apkhihe]

(APKHiHe)

[indolentsecurityguard]

✨🖍️ Small Legacy Doodles 🖍️✨

Normally I would try to only make one for the day, but I do find this little sketch I made yesterday kinda cute!

[da-bombishere]

I sketched the funny mushroom man

I’ll be real. I kind of struggle at drawing Cordelius lol

Also some doodles :0

[ayyponine]

i truly have become the guy getting a lot of 'Boss Baby' vibes from this re: my favourite movie being the only one that matters

[slabmaxxing]

is brawl smp worth watching

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 '𝐞𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 ✶.°

miya atsumu x f!reader

you get to know osamu and suna more at atsumu's first game of the season. meanwhile, atsumu subjects you to a very public display of affection.

part nine of the in close quarters series, a friends-to-lovers college AU featuring you, atsumu, and the ten months you spend living together senior year.

"Hi! Are you Suna?"

The young man standing in the middle of the busy courtyard glanced up at you from his phone, his hazel eyes seemingly unaffected by the thousands of rowdy college students, families, and local volleyball fans buzzing around you.

"You’re a good guesser," he said by way of greeting, pocketing his phone and extending his hand out for a shake. His gaze flicked down to your outfit as he asked, "You're Y/N, I'm assuming?"

"How could you tell?" you drawled, gesturing to Atsumu's oversized jersey currently swallowing you whole. You had tried pairing it with your favorite denim shorts and a belt, but it didn't excuse the fact that it was three sizes too large on you.

He huffed. "Did Atsumu put you up to this?"

"He said it was important to wear school colors, which, to be fair, I don't really own," you explained matter-of-factly. It didn't stop you from rolling your eyes. "But if you ask me, I think he just likes the idea of a girl wearing his jersey."

"That sounds more like it," Suna agreed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. "How are you liking it, living with a Miya?"

You sucked in a sharp breath and readjusted the strap of your book bag. "Well, my living room floor is covered in gym socks, and all my leftovers magically disappear, but other than that, I can't complain."

"Ha." Something like amusement flashed across his hazel eyes as he said, "Atsumu was right — you really are funny."

Before you could open your mouth to respond, a light hand brushed against your shoulder.

"Sorry I'm late," Osamu said, still in his Onigiri Miya hat and shirt. He extended his arm out to give you a half-hug. "There was a huge line over at the restaurant. Y/N, I see you've met my roommate Suna already."

"Sure did," you said, returning the hug with a warm smile. He smelled faintly of rice and umami sauce. "We were just talking about how lovely it is living with a Miya twin."

"Lovely, huh? I'm sure our ma would beg to differ, but I'm flattered," he said with a laugh. He gestured to the entrance of your university's multi-million-dollar events center and asked, "Shall we?"

The three of you wove in and out of the crowd, chatting animatedly amongst yourselves as you went through security, scanned your tickets, and entered the venue. You learned that Suna double-majored in psychology and sociology at the college across town and competed for a regional men's volleyball team in his free time. You also learned that he had played with the twins all three years of high school.

"Really?" you asked, your eyes wide as you navigated the ground floor of the arena. "You must be really used to them bickering, then."

"Something like that," he said, scrolling through his Google Photos until he landed on a snapshot from nearly six years ago. Osamu had Atsumu pinned to the ground, their teenaged faces contorted in anger as they brawled on the floor of the Inarizaki gymnasium.

"Oh my god," you laughed, staring at the blurry photo in amazement. "Isn't this the fight that got them both suspended?"

"Don't remind me," Osamu groaned.

Your eyes gleamed in amusement as you said, "You both look so young in this photo. Like two baby goats going head-to-head."

"Trust me, with the way Atsumu was actin' that day, you'd've thought he was a feral hyena," his brother murmured. "How was he this mornin'? Nervous at all?"

"A little bit, though he wouldn't admit it," you said, recalling how he'd acted before leaving the apartment earlier that day. He'd downed the last of his energy drink and slung his gym bag over a shoulder, the music in his AirPods loud enough for you to hear.

"Ya got everything ya need?" he'd asked you skittishly, shoving each of his feet into his Asics. "Yer ticket, Osamu and Suna's numbers?"

"Yes! We promised to meet outside of the arena at five-thirty," you said, handing him his water bottle. "It's me who should be asking you that, though. You doing okay?"

"Oh, yeah. This ain't my first rodeo," he reassured you, though his brown eyes conveyed something heavier. More solemn. "Besides, I'm feelin' much better after last night."

"That's good," you said, smiling softly. You could tell by the tension in his shoulders and jaw that he still had a lot on his mind, though.

Atsumu hit the pause button on his EDM track and asked, "Any last words of encouragement?"

You hummed to yourself, scouring your brain for the most perfect, proverbial thing to say. After a moment, you placed your hands on his shoulders, looked him dead in the eye, and said, "Don't fuck this up."

Atsumu nearly choked on his laughter. Your eyes glinted at the way his shoulders loosened up ever-so-slightly.

"I'm just kidding," you said warmly. "Give 'em hell, Atsumu."

He didn't know what it was — the use of his given name, or the pure conviction in which you'd said it — but he felt your words strike against his heart like a match. He grabbed your hand and pressed a quick kiss to the inside of your palm.

"I will," he murmured into your soft skin.

Your cheeks now burned at the memory — the way his lips had grazed your palm like it was the most natural thing in the world. You chalked it up to his affectionate, overtly flirtatious personality, unwilling to entertain the idea that it might have meant anything more.

But as you replayed the moment over and over again, you couldn't help but wish that it had.

"You guys go ahead!" you told Osamu and Suna when you reached your seating portal. "I'ma grab a drink before I head in. Do either of you want anything?"

"A beer would be nice," Osamu suggested.

Suna nodded in agreement. "Thanks, Y/N. Let us know how much we owe you.”

"Oh, don't worry about it! This one's on me," you said with a wave of your hand, jogging toward the concessions stand before either of them could argue. "I'll meet you in there!"

The smell of popcorn and nachos flooded your senses as you waited in line, the sheer energy of the arena potent enough to make your bones vibrate. A small part of you wondered what Atsumu was feeling right this very moment. Was he intimidated at all by this enormous stadium, the thousands of people that had shown up to watch him play? Or did he thrive off of their attention? Their excitement — their praise?

It's my first game since my coach kicked me off the team for a month, he'd told you last night, the warm light of your bedside lamp curving gently over his strained expression. So there's a lot at stake.

He'd been through a lot this past year, you'd realized — a break-up, a forced hiatus from volleyball. An onslaught of self-doubts he'd never fully admitted to but wore on his sleeve nonetheless. You hoped he wasn't thinking too deeply about all of that now. Even if he was, you silently prayed he wasn't burdened by it.

"Excuse me," you said once you'd reached the front row of the stadium, balancing three open cans of Asahi in your arms. You gestured over to where Osamu and Suna were sitting. "I think my seat is right over there."

The two young women in the seats next to yours shot you the dirtiest looks as they stood from their folding seats to let you in. Taken aback by their cold reactions, you awkwardly shuffled past them and plopped into the seat between Osamu and Suna.

"Is it just me, or are the girls sitting beside us kinda rude?" you asked under your breath as they relieved you of their drinks.

"That's not even the worst of 'em," Osamu said. "One time, a whole swarm of 'em came into the restaurant just to ask me where Atsumu lived. While askin' for my number."

"No," you gasped.

"The ones who pay premium to sit in the front row of games are especially bad," Suna added, taking a swig of his beer.

"What if they find where we live?" you asked, watching out the corner of your eye as the two women posed for a selfie in their matching game-day outfits. "I can't defend myself against a group of raging fans!"

"Maybe ya can hit 'em over the head with all those big novels ya read," Osamu chuckled.

"Seriously, who brings The Picture of Dorian Gray to a volleyball game?" Suna asked, peeking into your open book bag.

"I don't know!" you said, shooing him away like a gnat. "Aren't there half-times? Time-outs? I can sneak a chapter in here and there."

"Dear lord." Suna shook his head in amusement.

"Yer just as brainy as Tsumu says ya are," Osamu laughed.

For the second time that evening, you were stunned by the thought of Atsumu talking about you when you weren't around. What other kinds of things did he say about you? How else had he described you to the people he grew up with?

Before you could further dwell on those questions, the lights to the stadium dimmed, sending the crowd into complete hysterics as the announcer welcomed everyone to the first home game of the season. You watched in awe as a professionally-shot video of the men's volleyball team flashed across the jumbotron to the beat of a popular rap song, the series of graphics, b-roll, and spike shots sending an unexpected chill down your spine.

"Now announcing your starting lineup!" the announcer boomed once the video had concluded. "Number one, Aran Ojiro..."

"We went to high school with him, too," Suna filled you in as the team's captain jogged onto the court. "Super sweet guy."

"Number two, Sakusa Kiyoomi..."

"Dear lord," your murmured under your breath. "Are all volleyball players this tall?"

Osamu snorted. "Don't ya live with one?"

"Yeah, but I didn't think they all came like that — "

"Number five, Miya Atsumu!"

The retort died on your lips as the one person you came here to see emerged from the shadows of the stadium tunnel. The crowd erupted as he tilted his face towards the spotlight.

For a brief second, your breath caught in your throat.

He looked good in a jersey. Really good.

You were suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that everyone in here probably thought so, too.

The next several minutes droned on as the rest of the players were introduced, national anthems were sung, and the coin toss determined which team would serve first. All the while, you couldn't stop watching him — the way his bleached hair had been pushed back into a quiff, the way his eyes stared down the opponent with a cold, calculated expression. It was fascinating to see him so focused, so different from his usual self.

As if he could feel your eyes on him, Atsumu pried his gaze from the other team, scanned the first few stands of the arena, and spotted you.

You swore something like relief flickered across his brown eyes.

From the court below, Atsumu felt like he was on the verge of cardiac arrest.

"You alright?" Aran had asked him in the tunnel before the player introductions, ever the observant team captain. His voice was strangely calm compared to the booming cheers of the audience just several feet away from them.

"Yeah! Peachy keen," Atsumu breathed, jumping on his feet a couple of times to get his blood circulating. It did nothing to rid himself of the nerves now prickling down his arms and into his hands. Is this what an anxiety attack felt like? Like his limbs were made of television static?

Beside him, Aran gave him a knowing, if not mildly exasperated look.

"You don't need to pretend around me, you know. Just because you never freaked out before games in high school doesn't mean you aren't allowed to now."

At that, Atsumu gave his teammate a surprised double-take. Aran merely smiled at him and clapped him on the back reassuringly.

"We never doubted you, you know," Aran reminded him. "Even while you were gone, we never did."

Atsumu's lips drew themselves into a thin line as he huffed, quietly, "Can't say the same for myself."

Aran's expression softened. "Well, that's what teammates are for, right? To have your back — even when you don't have your own?"

Before Atsumu could respond, Aran's name was called by the stadium announcer, sending him jogging out the tunnel to the sound of thunderous applause.

It was wholly unlike Atsumu to panic before a game. But then again, he wasn't the same player as he was last season. In fact, as he emerged from the tunnel two minutes later to the crowd's ear-splitting cheers, all he could think about was the shit that kept him up at night. The break-up. The move out. The month-long volleyball hiatus. The grief of it all clawed at him, threatened to swallow him whole. And he didn't know what to do about it.

Ears now ringing from the panic, Atsumu desperately searched the crowd for something — anything — to ground him.

That's when he saw you.

Smushed between his twin brother and childhood friend in a jersey three sizes too large. Looking at him like he was the only other person in the arena.

Smiling at him gently, as if to repeat the same words you'd told him earlier that day.

Give 'em hell, Atsumu.

Slowly, he felt his shoulders relax, his jaw unclench. The static subsided, if only for a moment.

The whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. Meanwhile, the university band played a roaring anthem as he approached the baseline to serve. His teammates guarded the back of their heads as Atsumu seized the ball and steadied himself.

He willed himself to concentrate, to tap into the same strength he'd relied on countless of times before. He lifted his free hand and — like a conductor — silenced the band with a mere snap of his fist.

His heartbeat hammered in his ears. He took a deep breath.

Then, before he could fully process it, he launched himself forwards and served.

The ball sliced through the air and struck the back zone of the opposing side.

The arena came alive.

You blinked as the sounds of rambunctious applause filled your ears, the opposing team mirroring your stunned expression as they shook off Atsumu's service ace and reassumed their defensive stance. Meanwhile, the women beside you went completely ballistic.

"Nice serve!" they squealed in perfect unison. Suna winced at the timbre of their voices.

"Have ya ever seen Tsumu play before?" Osamu asked amidst all the chaos.

You shook your head, still trying to process what the hell you just saw. Osamu merely chuckled and folded his arms across his chest.

"Trust me — ya ain't seen nothin' yet."

And you hadn't. In fact, as the game carried on in full swing, you began to realize just how big a deal Miya Atsumu really was. You'd gotten glimpses of his notoriety here and there — had sensed it like a pulse buried just beneath his skin. But here, on this court, he was completely untethered. Confident. Alive.

You now understood the gravity of what this game meant to Atsumu — and how deeply it had hurt when it was taken away from him.

From that moment onward, you cheered as hard as you could.

Toward the end of the second set, the closer of the two women leaned over Suna and tapped you on the knee.

"Excuse me," she said, perfectly comfortable invading his personal space. She smacked her spearmint gum and asked, "Where did you get your jersey?"

"Uh," you laughed, your gaze bouncing from her insistent expression to Suna's flat one. You pointed at your roommate on the court and said, "I got it from him."

The woman's eyes traced the direction of your finger before eventually landing on Atsumu, who was currently in a time out huddle with his teammates. She barked out in laughter as if you'd just delivered the funniest joke she'd ever heard.

"Yeah, right," she drawled, returning to her friend without so much as another word. Your shoulders shook with laughter as she did so.

"Jesus. Tough crowd."

Beside you, Suna massaged the inner corners of his eyes and said, "Next time, we're sitting in the nosebleeds."

The referee blew his whistle, sending both teams back onto the court for perhaps the last time of the night. Atsumu's teammates had taken the first set and were now one point away from taking the second, the expressions on their faces hungry, restless. Determined to win.

Sakusa tossed the ball high and served, the opposing libero diving to receive it. You held your breath as the entire court burst into motion, eyes locked on Atsumu as he set each ball like a a sniper taking aim. Each move was calculated, sharp. Fueled by brute force. Your pulse spiked watching his prowess unfold.

The rally continued, each player growing weary, more erratic with their movements. But Atsumu never relented.

You knew he was crazy — you had no doubt about it. But as he sprinted cross-court to pull off the lowest set you'd ever seen, you were suddenly convinced he was clinically insane.

Engaging every muscle in his legs, Atsumu aligned the set perfectly and launched the ball across the court. It cut through the air, connected with Aran's open palm, and slammed into the back zone of the opposing side.

The whistle blew. The crowd erupted. Players on both sides collapsed in exhaustion.

Your team had won.

The next several seconds passed by in a blur. You, heart bursting with pride as you stood up in the front row of the arena and cheered. Osamu and Suna, smirking proudly as they followed suit.

And Atsumu, who — now sprinting toward you at full speed — hoisted himself over the court-side barrier to plant a sweaty kiss on your right cheek.

Your eyes widened as he landed back on his feet and beamed up at you, his smile bright enough to make your face grow hot in embarrassment. The entire row stood still as your brain blew a fuse.

Did he just...?

He winked at you, turned on his heel, and jogged back to shake the hands of the opposing team.

Meanwhile, the two women's jaws were practically on the floor.

Osamu and Suna burst out laughing.

"Excuse me, Miss Librarian," Atsumu teased as he approached you sitting at the pub bar after the game. "Can I buy ya a drink?"

You looked up from your copy of Dorian Gray, having snuck away from the post-game celebration on the outdoor patio to finish the last chapter of your assigned reading.

"Hey, you," you said with a smile, bookmarking your page and bringing Atsumu in for a bear hug. He had since changed out of his sweaty uniform and was now sporting a stylish button-up and jeans, his bangs still swept up and out of his face. It suited him, you thought as he slid into the seat next to yours. Brought out his eyes.

"Congratulations on your big win today," you said after he'd ordered you both drinks. "I didn't know you could move like that."

"Thank ya, thank ya. Did ya see that last set I did for Aran?"

"You mean the one where your ass nearly split out of your shorts?" you teased. "Hard to miss it. I saw it in-person, on the jumbotron, and all over my Twitter feed after the game."

"What can I say? I got an ass for ESPN," Atsumu said with a grin. You rolled your eyes, though a laugh tumbled out of you. His expression softened as he said, "Thanks for comin' to support me today. It means a lot."

"Of course," you said as the bartender brought you your drinks — a whisky sour for Atsumu, and a strawberry margarita for you. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

He sipped the foam off the top of his cocktail and asked, "Does this mean I get to go to one of yer dance showcases now?"

"Oh, I don't know about that," you guffawed. "Those aren't nearly as large of a production as a flashy volleyball game."

"Well, that doesn't matter. Invite me," Atsumu reassured you, something like admiration flashing across his brown eyes. "I wanna be there for ya, too."

You were grateful for the dim lights in the pub bar as you blushed for what felt like the millionth time that day.

"Okay," you said, nodding. "I'll be sure to invite you to the next one."

The rowdy revelries of the men's volleyball team seeped in from the outside, filling the comfortable silence between you as you drank. The two shots of tequila from your margarita warmed your belly as you asked, "Were you nervous at all?"

"During the game? A lil' bit, yeah."

"Well, for what it's worth, it didn't show," you said, mimicking the way he'd snapped his fist closed at the beginning of each serve. Atsumu laughed at your dramatic impression of him, dimples deepening on either side of his lips.

"Trust me, I was," he promised. In fact, he didn't know what he would've done if he hadn't spotted you in the crowd. Hadn’t remembered all the ways you'd shown up for him in the past year. Ever since he’d moved in, you had cared for him so deeply — talking him down from his self-doubt, bringing him food when he least expected it. Making him laugh when no one else would.

He couldn't just let all that kindness go to waste.

So he decided he'd give it everything he got — and that the win didn't matter so long as he made you proud.

Of course, he couldn't just admit any of that to you. Instead, he took a long sip of his cocktail and said, "Course, there was no need to be nervous once I saw ya cheesin' at me from the stands."

"Yeah, right," you chuckled, licking the Tajín off the rim of your glass.

"I'm serious! Yer my good luck charm." Lowering his voice, he added, "Ya look real cute wearin' my jersey, too."

Amused, you said, "Well, your diehard fans certainly didn't think so. They looked like they wanted to rip my head off the entire game."

Atsumu tsked in annoyance. "Are ya kiddin' me? Did they say anythin' mean to ya?"

"Trust me, it wasn't that big a deal. In fact, I think they bothered Suna more than they did me," you reassured him with a laugh. He gave you a distrustful glance in return.

"Well, still. I'm sorry. Anyone who isn't a fan of ya isn't a fan of me — and I mean that."

"Well, that's very noble of you," you drawled, finishing off the last of your drink as the door to the back patio swung open. "I'm just glad no one's staring daggers at me anymore."

"...I wouldn't relax so soon if I were you," Suna warned, coming up beside you with a beer glass in one hand and his phone in the other. He angled his screen so the two of you could see the video he'd pulled up on his Twitter feed.

Your expression slowly fell as a ten-second clip of Atsumu hoisting himself up to kiss you on the cheek looped over and over again — the number of likes and reposts ticking steadily upward with each passing second.

"What are y'all doin' in here?" Osamu asked, joining the three of you not a moment later. His eyes latched onto the video. "Oh, shit."

Mortified, you snatched the phone out of Suna's hands and scrolled down to the comments section. It didn't help the panic now rising in your chest.

Omg who is she??

I thought he had another girlfriend tho? Did I miss something?

I don't know who she is, but I'm jealous.

"Oh god," you breathed, your stomach dropping at that last comment. You stared at the three boys hovering around you and asked, "I'm gonna have to learn how to fight, aren't I?"

At that, Atsumu looked wholeheartedly confused. Meanwhile, Suna handed you your copy of Dorian Gray and said, "You may wanna use this, then."

Osamu laughed so hard he nearly cried.

@miyasmagnolias, 2025

[astryxie]

you're drunk !

characters: yami sukehiro, fuegoleon vermillion, nozel silva, & william vangeance

tags: fluff , multi characters x fem reader

a/n: i'm back with the scenarios ! sorry if it's been awhile, i'm just really busy with school and all

🍂 YAMI SUKEHIRO

The cool night air wrapped around you as you stumbled along the path, still feeling the warmth of the drinks you had with Yami back at the tavern. The night had been filled with loud laughter and challenges from overly confident patrons that Yami either shrugged off or jokingly threatened to handle with his sword.

Yami walked beside you, hands shoved casually into his pockets, his steps as steady as ever despite the amount of beer he’d downed. He glanced at you, clearly entertained by your struggle to walk in a straight line. “You’re wobbling like a newborn deer.” he teased, his smirk growing wider.

You shot him a glare, though you knew it lacked any real bite. “I’m not wobbling.” you insisted stubbornly, your voice slurring just a little. “I could walk a straight line if I wanted to.”

Yami raised an eyebrow, his grin daring you. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” He stopped, crossing his arms over his chest, clearly enjoying this far too much.

With an overly determined look, you tried to step forward, concentrating so hard that your tongue peeked out between your lips. But despite your best effort, your feet betrayed you, and you tripped. Yami quickly caught you, pulling you upright and steadying you against his chest.

“Yeah, real convincing.” he chuckled, keeping his strong arm around your waist. “Remind me to never let you talk yourself into a drinking contest again. You’d end up starting a bar brawl and lose.”

You scowled up at him, though you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at your own clumsiness. “I don’t need your help, Captain.” you grumbled, but you made no effort to move out of his hold. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

His smirk grew more teasing. “Sure, Miss Independent.” he said, leaning in closer. “You’re strong as hell, but right now, you’re about as coordinated as a fish out of water. Admit it.”

“Never.” you shot back. But your pride softened, and you couldn’t hold back a smile. You let yourself rest in his embrace, at least for now.

Yami seemed pleased, but he wasn’t done teasing you yet. His eyes glinted with amusement as he added, “You know, you’re lucky I’m here to catch you when you do something reckless. Otherwise, I’d be scraping you off the pavement.”

You gasped, playfully swatting at his chest. “You’re the worst!” you exclaimed, though a grin spread across your face. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Yami shrugged, his smirk never fading. “Probably because I’m devastatingly handsome.” he said, then leaned in close, his voice dropping to a mock whisper. “And because you’re hopelessly in love with me.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat. “Arrogant as ever.” you shot back, though the affection in your voice was undeniable. “One day, that ego of yours is going to be your downfall.”

“Maybe,” he replied, squeezing you a little tighter as the two of you continued down the road. “But at least I’ll have you to catch me when I fall, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, you big idiot. Just don’t make me regret it.”

Yami let out a soft chuckle, and for a moment, the silliness fell away, replaced by a genuine warmth that lingered between you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” he said, his voice unusually gentle before he quickly added, “Now hurry up. I don’t feel like carrying your drunk ass home if you pass out on me.”

You burst out laughing, nudging him playfully as the two of you continued down the path. The night felt perfect, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy leaning into his warmth, knowing that your silly, playful love would always make you feel this light.

🍂 FUEGOLEON VERMILLION

The mission had been a resounding success, but the celebration that followed had clearly taken its toll on you. Fuegoleon had joined the squad in raising a glass—or several—to the victory, but unlike you, he’d known when to stop. You, on the other hand, had indulged a little too freely in the wine.

Now, you found yourself lying on your bed, your limbs feeling heavy, and your head buzzing in that telltale way that meant you’d had far too much to drink. Fuegoleon sat on the edge of the bed, carefully removing your boots as you mumbled incoherent protests.

“You don’t have to do that.” you slurred weakly, though your attempt at resistance was half-hearted at best.

“And yet here I am.” Fuegoleon replied calmly, his voice laced with patience as he set your boots aside. “It seems tonight I have the honor of looking after you, my love.”

You blinked up at him, a hazy smile tugging at your lips. “You’re too good to me.” you murmured, the warmth of the wine in your system amplifying your emotions. “I don’t deserve you.”

Fuegoleon chuckled softly, reaching for a damp cloth. “If that’s true, then what does that say about me? I’m the one who chooses to stay by your side.”

You let out a breathy laugh, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment before you peeked at him again. “Probably that you’re too noble for your own good.”

“Or perhaps,” he countered, his voice quieter now, “I simply know a treasure when I see one.”

The words made your cheeks heat, and you let out a shy laugh. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.” you said teasingly, though your voice cracked ever so slightly.

Fuegoleon smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before running the damp cloth over your hands. “No tears tonight, sweetheart. Only rest.”

You watched him in silence for a moment, taking in the way his purple eyes glowed softly in the lamplight, his every movement deliberate and tender. “You’re really handsome, you know that?” you murmured, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Fuegoleon paused, glancing down at you with a look of amused surprise. “Am I now?”

You nodded with conviction, your voice growing dreamier. “Mm-hmm. Handsome and kind and strong and... warm. You’re everything, Fuegoleon.”

A faint blush colored his cheeks, but his smile didn’t waver as he set the cloth aside. “You’ve had too much to drink, my love.” he said softly, leaning in closer. “But I’ll take your words to heart.”

“I mean it.” you insisted, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re amazing. And I love you.”

He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “I love you too.” he murmured, his voice full of warmth. “Now rest. You’ve earned it.”

You hummed in contentment, your eyes fluttering closed as sleep began to claim you.

Fuegoleon stayed by your side, his hand resting lightly over yours as he watched you drift into peaceful slumber. Even as the night stretched on, he remained there, his heart full and his resolve unshaken. For all your stubbornness and mischief, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

🍂 NOZEL SILVA

The night had gone exactly as Nozel predicted—messy. You’d gone out to celebrate your friend’s birthday, promising him you wouldn’t overdo it. Yet here you were, kneeling on the bathroom floor, your stomach emptying every last drop of the party’s "fun."

Nozel stood behind you, his hand carefully holding your hair back, the other steadying you with a light touch on your shoulder. His usual pristine demeanor was intact, save for the slight furrow in his brow and his sleeves rolled up—a rare sight that might’ve made you laugh if you weren’t currently miserable.

“I should’ve known.” he muttered, his voice calm but tinged with irritation. “Letting you go to a party unsupervised was clearly a mistake.”

You groaned, wiping your mouth weakly. “It was... one night. I don’t always do this.”

“Precisely why you don’t handle it well.” he replied, offering you a glass of water. “Drink. Slowly.”

You took the glass, sipping carefully before giving him a half-hearted grin. “Look at you, Sir High and Mighty, tending to a lowly drunk like me. Isn’t this beneath you, Captain Silva?”

He raised an eyebrow, his grip on your hair steady. “It’s certainly testing my patience.”

You laughed weakly, leaning against the wall. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this just a little. You love me too much to leave me here.”

He let out a sharp sigh, though his hand on your back moved in slow, soothing circles. “Loving you doesn’t mean I enjoy watching you throw up.”

You cooed, turning to look up at him with a tired smile. “You said you love me. That’s rare. Must be the alcohol working its magic.”

“Don’t push your luck.” he replied, though the faintest smile tugged at his lips. “Now stop talking nonsense and rest.”

“But you’re so handsome when you’re annoyed.” you teased, closing your eyes and leaning into his touch as he helped you shift into a more comfortable position. “It’s like... brooding prince energy.”

“Foolish woman.” he muttered, shaking his head, though his fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“You'll live.” you murmured, your voice softening as sleep started to creep in. “You’d miss me too much if I wasn’t around to drive you crazy.”

Nozel paused, his amber eyes softening as he gazed at you. “Perhaps.” he admitted, his voice so low you almost didn’t hear it. “Now sleep, before you say anything else you’ll regret.”

You gave a small laugh, your head lolling to the side as exhaustion overtook you. “No regrets... just you.”

As your breathing evened out, Nozel sighed, his hand lingering on your back for a moment longer before he stood. He quietly adjusted the blanket draped over you, his usual sharpness replaced by a rare tenderness.

“Rest well, my love.” he murmured, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. “I’ll be here.”

🍂 WILLIAM VANGEANCE

It had been one of those days where everything felt overwhelmingly boring. After a mission, everyone had dispersed to rest, and you found yourself wandering the halls, feeling antsy. The idea of a drink crossed your mind—just to pass the time and try something new. You'd never really been interested in alcohol, but today, curiosity got the better of you.

You found an unopened bottle of something fruity-looking in the pantry, poured yourself a small glass, and took a sip. It wasn’t bad. A little sweet, a little tangy. You went back for another, and before long, you’d emptied half the bottle. You could feel it starting to settle in—everything was a bit fuzzy, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

After a while, the alcohol made you feel a little too good, a little too brave. You thought about how lovely it would be to visit William. You had to tell him something important, after all.

You made your way to his office, swaying slightly as you walked, still feeling the warmth spread through you. When you entered, William looked up from his desk, and for a moment, his expression was a mix of surprise and concern.

"Y/N?" he asked, standing up immediately, his brow furrowed in worry. "What’s wrong?"

You smiled up at him, feeling unusually lighthearted. Without thinking, you dropped to one knee in front of him. “William Vangeance.” you said dramatically, though your voice was slightly slurred. “Will you marry me?”

William froze, his eyes widening, clearly taken aback. "Y/N, what are you—" His voice softened as he rushed over, kneeling in front of you. “You’re drunk.”

You giggled, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “I’m not drunk, I just… really love you.” you said, trying to focus on him. “You’re kind and smart and… and perfect. How could I not want to marry you?”

William’s expression softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached out and gently cupped your face, his touch tender. “My love,” he said softly, “You’re a little tipsy right now, aren’t you?”

You nodded, still smiling up at him, completely at ease. “Maybe. But it’s still true.” you said, your voice warm with affection. “You’re everything to me, William. I’m lucky to know you.”

He chuckled lightly, the worry in his eyes replaced by something softer. “You’re adorable when you’re drunk.” he murmured, his voice fond as he helped you sit back down on the floor. “But I think we should get you comfortable. You’re not thinking straight.”

You pouted, but it was more playful than anything. “I am thinking straight.” you said, leaning into his chest as he wrapped his arm around you, helping you to the couch. “I’m just being honest.”

William's arms wrapped around you more securely as he guided you onto the couch. He sat beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His voice was calm, but affectionate. “You’ve always been honest with me, even when you're sober. But I think tonight, we’ll keep the marriage talk for another day.”

You relaxed into his embrace, still feeling giddy and safe in his arms. “But one day, though.” you murmured, your eyes fluttering a little. “Promise me we’ll talk about it when I’m not… all wobbly.”

William smiled softly, his heart full of affection for you. “I promise.” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But for now, just rest. You’ve had a long day, my love.”

You hummed, leaning into his warmth, the world around you beginning to fade into the comfort of his arms. “You’re so sweet, William. I’m glad you’re here.”

He held you close, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m always here for you, Y/N. Always.”

You sighed contentedly, letting the last of your energy slip away as you drifted off in his embrace.

[vinnyvamppp]

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

Multi-Fandom Writer Emoji Meanings: Pepper (Smut), Heart (Fluff), Cloud (non-sexual content) Date Created: 4/4/2025 / Guys, 10k notes and 500+ followers in two weeks is insane.

Invincible ☆ﾟ°˖*🛸𓆩⚝𓆪☽︎ Series: To Be Desired (Variant Edition) Part 1, Part 2

Variants of your childhood best friend spawn across the globe, and you find yourself in the crossfire of their previous lovers. What happens when you experience the parallel pleasure they offer? 🌶️

(Mark Grayson Edition): To Be Wanted

He was wrong, he was foolish, and he's here to make up for his mistakes. Of course, you were always the better option, and no one else needs you the way he does. (To Be Desired ABRIDGED) 🌶️ Series: The Replancement (Omni-Man) Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Earth has made him comfortable. Weak, even. His half-human son may never be strong enough to carry the Viltrumite legacy, and his pet or wife is a distraction he can no longer afford. But you offer him a solution: a true heir. 🌶️ ☁️

Mark Grayson (Solo Fics): (Head Game)

He's been distant lately, but he's willing to do anything to make it up to you... He couldn’t resist you, even if he tried. 🌶️

(Friendly Neighborhood Inconvenience)

Mark Grayson, is your biggest inconvenience and friend... whom you also live next to. Super-powered besties...? :) ♥️

(She Threw Me-- Then Kissed Me)

When the shadows of your heritage awaken for the first time in years—responding not to war, but to him—you’re left with one terrifying, exhilarating realization: You didn’t come here to be claimed. But Mark Grayson might just be the first man brave enough to try. 🌶️

(Pretty When You Cry)

He's having relationship issues with Amber, but you're willing to be his distraction... right? His tears are your love language. And he’s fluent. 🌶️

(Survival of The Weakest!)

Since your last mishap, you both enjoy some domestic comfort until Cecil returns with a mission—one that only stirs trouble. "She Threw Me-- Then Kissed Me" continuation! ☁️

(I'll Breed You Into Loyalty)

Lines blur between battle and bedroom, loyalty and lust, love and war. Mark has to face a question worse than betrayal: What if the only person who understands him is the one destined to destroy him? 🌶️

(One More Moan, Baby)

Mark Grayson finally lets you take care of him—in more ways than one. What starts as emotional vulnerability after a tough fight spirals into the kind of intimacy he’s never known when you ride him with patience and love, it pushes him past the edge, into tears, into confession, and into something real.

(No Tongue, Just Vibes)

Mark Grayson’s in love. When the emotional dam finally breaks, he comes to realize love doesn’t have to follow a script. It just has to be honest. Featuring the world’s softest superhero-level compromise. ☁️ ♥️

(Two and a Half Graysons)

You're not officially a parent, but you might as well be. You're not officially married, but everyone seems to think you are. Between shirtless mornings, grocery store tension, and baby carrier missions, the line between “dating Mark” and “co-raising a purple alien infant with Mark” gets blurrier by the day. But it’s fine. You’re emotionally stable. Probably. ☁️ ♥️

Invincible Variant Fics: Lensless Mark/No Goggles (Slap Me Silly)

Synopsis is self-explanatory! 🌶️

Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner (The Psychopath)

When dinner with friends turns into a silent war of tension, touch, and self-control, it becomes clear Mark has zero intention of behaving. From under-the-table teasing that ends in a ruined pair of pants to a post-party bathroom brawl with slaps, spitting, and broken plumbing, you both spiral into a night of explosive mutual destruction.

Sinister Mark (Attention Hungry)

Advisory warning, smut included with mild themes for abuse or toxic relationships.

(Where Saints Are Buried)

To be loved as a lie, or wanted as a weapon— choose. This is not a love story, it’s a recognition. You were born righteous and powerful, but there’s always been a tremble in your hands, an ache to ruin. He sees it— Mark sees all of it. And he’s not afraid. He’s enthralled. ☁️

(Knees Up, Mouth Shut)

Across the stars, two names are whispered with fear: Invincible, a smirking black hole in the shape of a man, and the Daughter of Ares, a war-forged Amazon with thighs that have crushed kings. When a challenge is issued, winner takes control for 24 hours, they both expect victory. Now, pinned back with legs folded to his chest, pride cracking under the weight of her hips, Mark finds himself unraveling with every deep roll and breathless moan. 🌶️

Mohawk Mark + Sinister (Taking Turns)

Synopsis is self-explanatory! 🌶️

(Submitting Two Marks For Review!)

Two Mark variants, both are submissive, and you, the reader, are dominant. Pegging involved. 🌶️

(Not Her, But Mine)

He lost you in his universe. In this one, you’re not her, but that doesn’t matter. You’re still warm. Still tight. Still his. 🌶️ ☁️ Viltrum Mark (Bite Me Back)

He finds himself increasingly overwhelmed by instinctual need and possessiveness—but it’s not just lust that’s consuming him. It’s you. 🌶️

+ Multi-Variaint (Bite Me Back Too)

Each version of Mark Grayson— bratty kings, calculating monsters, broken gods— crave the same thing: your body, your loyalty, your soul. You’re a cure and a weakness they crave to keep. Consume him. 🌶️

Shiesty Mark + Omni-Mark (Double Booked)

You’re the problem that makes them argue, compete, and wreck you just to prove a point. Used, stuffed, and silenced—until you flip the game on them and make them beg to take turns. Who’s really in control? That’s the fun part. 🌶️

Atom Eve: (Atomic Heart)

With Mark gone for five years, and Eve's lips ghosting promises against your skin, you realize... it was time to take his place. 🌶️ ☁️

(Burnout)

Through her heroisms, you and Eve fostered a friendship. Watching the world beat her down through the paper broke your poor little heart... so why not offer the girl some relief for her burnout? 🌶️ ♥️

(She Who Remembers You)

In a fractured world with collapsing timelines and bleeding skies, you finally catch up to her, only to find that she remembers you. Not just your face, but who you were across universes. What you could have been. And what you might still be. 🌶️ 🌧️

(Rex + Eve + Reader, Two's Company, Three's Dangerous)

Three’s not a crowd—it’s foreplay. When Rex and Eve decide to start pulling girls together, they don’t expect you to walk in and flip the game on its head. Now you're all tangled in teasing, tension, and a whole lot of trouble they can't stop chasing. ☁️

Rex Splode/Rex Sloan: (Blow it Up, Babe-- Its Therapy)

Rex decides the best stress relief is blowing stuff up—Rex-style. What starts as a chaotic night of grenades and bad ideas turns unexpectedly soft when he realizes just how much he actually cares about you. ♥️

Drabbles: "Sit, Stay, Counter."

In which you, a mere civilian with either questionable upper body strength or pure audacity, attempt to lift various overpowered Viltrumite men and sit them on the kitchen counter like they’re your pretty little trophy husbands. ☁️

Long-Form Special Requests: Spice & Distruction ☁️ (Oc VS. Variants)

Avatar (The Way of Water)⭒-.⋆🪼⋆.-⭒ Jake Sully (Solo Fics): (Everything But In)

You find yourself bonded to both Jake and Neytiri. As time went on, even the simplest aspects of your personality began to captivate him. It felt wrong, like a transgression against his morals. Yet, you remained there, so... prettily and he came to yearn you just as you did him. 🌶️

Jake Sully + Neytiri (Roll For Me)

In which the camera of the audience captures the erotic gasps in the night between three sweat-glistening bodies in the forests of Pandora. 🌶️

Past Projects (Scrapped Works) Any published prior ↵↵↵↵

Devil May Cry DMC HEADCANONS ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

Synopsis is self-explanatory.

DC COMICS (BatFam so far!) Dick Grayson (Runway Walk)

With twenty minutes to curtain call, a locked dressing room door, and a desk sturdy enough to ruin, you're about to discover there's nothing more dangerous than a man in a suit… especially when you designed it to come off. 🌶️ ♥️

(The Gloves Come Off)

Training with Dick Grayson was always intense, but when a spar spirals into something messier — something needy, and unforgiving, you learn just how well Nightwing reads a body under pressure. In the end, it’s not just your bodies on the line. It’s the way you come undone for each other — breathless and craving more. 🌶️

(Your Name Lives Under My Tongue જ⁀➴ ♡)

You haunt their thoughts like a song stuck on repeat—pulling them closer with every heartbeat, every whispered “come here.” Inspired by Love Me Not by Ravyn Lenae. 🌧️

CastleVania ⛧°。°⛧ ⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧ Pending....

Content across this masterlist; some pieces are fem/male-presenting, while others are gender-neutral. You're warmly encouraged to make requests! Whether it's different sexualities, disabilities, neurodivergence, or any other specific representation, you're hoping to see.

[evilminji]

*evil grin of The Ponderings™*

You know who DEFINITELY would have Unfinished Business?

Heroes. Professional "If I could just MOVE, just fight a BIT LONGER, save ONE MORE PERSON" Heroes. It's the ultimate and unending Unfinished Business. To protect people. Not just their friends, their co-workers, but the innocent people around them.

That kid, stuck crying in the rubble.

That business man, screaming in pain, caught in the cross fire.

The People NEED them. They SWORE. Their very SOULS burn with the NEED to help. But... the flesh gave out. Injuries. Age. Quirk overuse. They knew... they KNEW, this was not a safe line of work... but... but! Please! Just one more person! Why can't they just make their breaking, dying, bodies MOVE!

Of course they refuse to move on.

They are needed HERE.

Yet? Their hands pass through. Their voices do not reach. A hell of their own, unknown, making. They can't let go, but they can't HELP either. There isn't enough Ectoplasm here. The walls of their reality overly patched up, since that unfortunate leak a few centuries back.

After all, the Zone had dumped near lethal quantities of unfiltered Ecto into the atmosphere. They're STILL dealing with the mutations and fall out, aren't they? At least, they are according to the Zone. (Wtf is a "Quirk"?) And, yeah, someone should PROBABLY do an assessment on the ecological recovery of the Reality. But like?

Do you have any idea how few people have an Obsession for stuff like that? Wait your turn! The list is long and you're not fuckin special, okay? The agents are BUSY.

Now, you might wonder? Wait. If they aren't moving on. Are DEFINITELY Ghosts. Starving as they are. Refusing to die as they may be. Wouldn't... Wouldn't that leave the whole ass area around their Reality an ecological dead zone? If it got over patched and no Ghosts LEFT, thus noticed, and started to try and work on it from the outside? Assuming the COULD?

Yeah. Yeah it would be!

It's called the "New Wastes"!

There used to be some cool Lairs around there. But there was a turf dispute. Someone DID something. Punched a HOLE. And everyone re-died. It was fixed but never quite re-healed. Portals... don't show up there? For some reason? Meh. Wanna brawl?

No. Danny's curious. He wants ANSWERS.

It's his fatal flaw.

Well... that and his inability to keep his mouth shut. But he likes to think he's funny. So... off he goes! And MAN! Does it feel funky out there! Weird textures. Mmmm, Don't Like THAT ™. It's probably a King thing? The Zone here... FEELS wrong.

Not... the way it's SUPPOSED to be shaped, if that makes sense?

And? It feels... if you sorta squint? Like... a LOT of people AREN'T where they should be. But aren't gonna leave until they're READY. Ooof. Great. Someone messed up again. Why does he KEEP FINDING bits and pockets that need straightening out? Unruffling? It's like he has to keep smooth out this giant peice of fabric with all these stains on it. Clean the messes on it.

He feels more like a maid then a King.

Maybe he is?

Pretty sure he's more of a nanny, since the Zone is more of a whiny yet excitable toddler then anything else. Alright, let him in. And fix... whatever THAT is.

So he steps into the Reality and? Huh. Japan. Neat. He always meant to go, never got around to it. Why is that man an otter?

.......oooohohooo, this place was HELLA fucked up by Ectoplasm, wasn't it? This is multi generational exposure. It's in the air. The water, ground, buildings. But stale to the point of stagnation. That can't be healthy. At least a few people he sees have developed ecto-resistance, thank the Ancients.

Danny discovers there are? "Superheroes"? Or just... heroes, apparently. They sell shampoo lines and athletic gear. Villians are petty criminals and psychopaths. All lumped together. He gets fuckin CHASED by the COPS and half the cities spandex patrol, called a "villian" (you know, like the purse snatchers and the DUDE WHO TRIED TO OPEN FIRE ON A CROWD) for flying around trying to assess the situation. Not speaking Japanese fast enough.

Soooorry! He TRIED to answer your confusing barked demands! This isn't his native language! He's translating through Ghost Speech! He knows it sounds unsettling to the living! It's the best he's GOT, man! (Asshole)

He escapes, obviously, because he's not 14 anymore. And honestly? He could top 200mph or so AT 14. He's only gotten faster. Intangible flight means no wind drag, motherfuckers~! OR need to dodge buildings! HA. Try to follow him through THE GROUND!

A few Blob sucked (to remove the ectoplasm) bits of treasure later? And he leaves a pawn shop with local currency. Thank YOU shady pawn shop! Ask him no questions, he'll tell you not lies. Enjoy Pariah's gold.

He does tourist things. Buy foods he's never tried, wanders around. Sees what's needed. Noticed a lot of people struggle with some aspect of the ecto-mutations brought on by the extreme Limnality. Need accessibility aids.

.....well, he IS a Fenton. His parents would disown him on the SPOT if he left with out at least TRYING to help. So he tracks down one the local ghosts. He'll need a guide or two.

He? VASTLY underestimates how desperate a sea of Obsession Starved Hero and Vigilante Ghosts will act, the INSTANT, they realize not only someone can see them... but it's? Their "Boss"? They aren't sure HOW they know that. But they DO. It's THE Boss. Here to help them! Asking for HELP ™ from THEM!

Yes

YES THEY CAN DO THAT

He gets swarmed. Hundreds of ghosts fighting over each other. Shouting. Turning on each other like rabid animals. All worn down and ragged by their Obssesion starvation. He's forced to shout over them.

And? Holy shit, these are only the ones from THIS CITY, too.

Thank Zone, again, he's no longer 14. That he has friends who are Rulers ™ that taught him HOW to Rule. To delegate. Pretend he TOTALLY knows what he's doing. That every action is on purpose.

It takes less then two hours, with all the experienced Unground Heros help, to make himself a Real Boy and buy a building. Put himself into the correct databases. He officially has licenses for things he's never studied. Is a tax paying citizen. Even belongs to several local clubs.

Over the next few days? He sets up his new... oi! Quickdraw! What're they called again? Right. "Lifestyle Support Company" which? Is a dumb name. But, Fenton Works is Fenton Works. Somehow he always kinda knew he'd be inherenting. It's in a cruddy part of town and the prices are cheap as he can safely get um.

He already had two customers, even though half the building isn't even fully set up. Which? I mean... he gets it. Poor guy. Knives for hands. Sharp ones too. The other guy's Obsession made him emotionally react to colors and like three different ones were ruining his life. So, hand Prosthetics controllable by knives and color filtering wrap around glasses.

Took him a lunch break or two.

Changed THEIR lives.

Suddenly his shop is packed. Schedule screaming for relief. And the ghosts? Getting more tangible by the day. See, his work shop? Ecto proofed. Let's him relax. But it ALSO let's him radiate fresh, clean, Ecto out into the air. And as King? With a direct line to The Zone? He puts out a lot.

There start to become Sightings.

People who SWEAR they saw long dead Heros out of the corner of their eyes. Dead vigilantes. That was who through that bottle. Who tripped that thug at just the right moment. Who unlocked the door. The SWEAR. They aren't crazy!

And... at first? Brushed off. Stress does a lot of crazy thing to a person, ma'am. But? How do you brush off, making eye contact with your dead best friend? Your old mentor on the other roof? That vigilante, who you WATCHED bleed out? Can you brush them off... when a vigilante from the dawn of quirks, punches some two bit villian on live television? Calls the Heros on the scene gloryhounds? Goverment dogs?

Runs from the cops and vanishes into thin air?

When this shit KEEPS HAPPENING?

Is spreading?

Are... are you supposed to arrest them for illegal vigilantism? How? They're THE proto-Heros! You don't want your name tied to that! The HPSC is furious. The goverment is uneasy. There are like... 6 dudes and a lady, openly stalking some kid in UA. Trying to mentor him. He looks moments away from a nervous breakdown.

Us too, kid. Us too.

All? While Danny? Is just sitting in his lil shop. Tinkering. Not HIS problem. Gotta let the ghosts here get it out of their system. Get their Obsession's full. Then it's all aboard the Zone Train. He's just here to make sure no one does anything "Too Crazy".

What's HIS definition of "too crazy"?

Wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy~☆

@hdgnj @lolottes @nerdpoe @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @the-witchhunter @legitimatesatanspawn

[ikilledmybrotherandimnotashamed]

Это Джейн из Мульти Бравла.

Это Джейн из Мульти Бравла

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.1 - Ryan x Dutton!reader

Um so I watched all of Yellowstone last week and as a result, my multi-year writer's block was broken by a need to see more of Ryan because I am obsessed with Ian Bohen. Idk how many parts this will have or how often it will get updated as I'm in the last few months of uni but I hope y'all enjoy!

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!Reader (Kayce's twin sister)

WC: 1053

Next part

Disclaimer: Beyond watching Yellowstone I have zero/little knowledge of Western riding and the ranching lifestyle but I do know horses so that has certainly influenced this! I'm also English so writing dialogue correctly for them is not my strong point! If you find any issues please let me know!

---

The sun was just beginning to dip below the mountains and the cold was starting to set in when she joined him on the fence.  Neither of them spoke for a while, just looking out at the vastness in front of them, all that was theirs but came with so many conditions.  

Eventually she broke the silence, “so you told him?  How’d he take that one?”

Wordlessly he opened his shirt where the ‘Y’ was just starting to scab over, still red and angry.

“Motherfucker,” she swore, “this ain’t fair Kayce.  He doesn’t just get to do this.”

He shook his head, “dad does whatever he wants and there ain’t no consequences for him.  That’s why I gotta do this.”

“Shit man.  What’s Monica gonna do?  Besides worrying about you getting your ass shot in the desert miles from civilisation?”

Kayce chuckled, “beats getting my ass shot in the middle of Montana miles from civilisation.  She’ll be okay, her family will help and she’ll be a teacher.  Just like she planned.  It’s you I’m worried about here with dad and no one else to speak sense to.  ‘Cept Lee”

“Well I’m leaving, dad be damned.  I’m not gonna be a pawn in his power trip.  Gonna go see this godforsaken country and win it all so that when I come back he can’t question whether it’s where I wanna be,” she declared.

Her brother rolled his eyes, “you ain’t talking about the same him now.”

“I don’t know what your talking about,” she denied, staring out at the darkened mountains.

Kayce shoved her shoulder, “you can’t bullshit to me y/n.  That’s the one problem with being twins, ain’t no way to lie to me.”

“I’m just a kid to him, he ain’t ever gonna see me any other way if I stay here,” she admitted, “hell if I stay here no one will ever see me as anything more than his kid.  ‘S why we both gotta do this Kayce.”

He nodded, “no way to stand in the sun in this state, always gonna be a shadow.”

“When I come back I’ll be able to stand in sunlight so bright I’ll have a fucking halo.”

-/-/-

2 years later…

 Montana has its charms all year round, but fall has a particular appeal.  The leaves had started to turn, there was a chill in the air that only seemed to get  stronger and there was still a frost on the grass that the sun hadn’t hit.  

With the sun keeping the cold from their bones, the Yellowstone ranch hands were occupying themselves keeping their roping skills fresh.  Rip observed from the sidelines as the new hand struggled to keep up with Ryan who turned to lecture the kid about keeping his eye on the steer.  

Lloyd rolled his eyes when he missed the horns again, “you gotta try harder than that if you wanna be a wrangler!”

“He keeps pulling the damn steer too early,” the hand argued back.

Ryan glared at him, “don’t fuckin’ blame me for your bad skills.”

Before they could descend into an all out brawl, the group were distracted by the sound and sight of truck coming down the road.  They watched it pull up in front of the barn, trailer in tow.  A rare silence occupied them as they watched a young woman step out, adjust her hat then stare out across the ranch in front of her.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Lloyd muttered, “she’s back.  You fuckin’ know about this?”

Rip said nothing, but his face gave the answer.  The other hands who recognised her muttered between themselves about what she was doing back after so long.

The new hand leaned over towards Ryan, “who the fuck is that and why does everybody care?”

“That is y/n Dutton,” he answered without taking his eyes off of her.

“I didn’t know John had another daughter,” he responded.

Ryan shook his head, “hell kid you gotta lot to learn about this place.”

“She’s fuckin’ hot mind,” the hand murmered.

The older hand spat out his words, “you keep words like that off your tongue if you want to keep it.”

Lee stepped out of the barn and stepped around the truck to greet her, “the prodigal daughter returns.”

“I don’t see Beth anywhere,” she laughed bitterly, “but it’s good to see you Lee.”

He hugged her, “I’m glad you’re back.  Been a long time coming.”

“I came back for me, not for him remember that,” she turned towards the corral, “think I’ve given them enough of a show to explain it so they can pick their jaws up off the floor?”

He gestured for her to follow him towards where the ranch hands were all still quietly watching.  She strode over to the group, smiling at Rip who nodded back at her.

“Where’s that mare of yours?” He asked.

Y/n shrugged, “a champion barrel horse would be wasted on this ranch.  Sold her for more money than I’m ever gonna earn in the rest of my lifetime.”

“You ain’t rodeoing anymore?” Lloyd questioned.

“I did what I set out to do when I went on the circuit.  Saw this godforsaken country and won it all.  It’d get boring to win it over again,” she moved her gaze towards where Ryan was watching her, “ain’t no one gonna question where I wanna be now.”

Rip nodded, “afraid we ain’t got a horse to spare for you y/n.”

“I got that covered Rip.  Got one coming up tomorrow from a ranch in Wyoming.  Some fuckin’ old school boys who don’t know how to be nice to a horse they didn’t ruin,” she explained, “man’s wife broke it and now she’s dead ain’t no one gonna ride him gentle.  Figured he might stand a chance with me.”

Lloyd chuckled, “always were a soft hand.  Figured that’s how you won it all.”

“Guess that question that remains is, do you have a place for me?  Not in the house but here,” she clarified.

Lee looked at Rip then back at his sister, “I reckon so.  You gonna stay in the bunkhouse?”

“Oh fuck no,” y/n laughed, “I didn’t drag that thing all the way from Texas to sleep with these fuckheads.  It’s looked after me in worse places.  Think it’ll do just fine here.”

[pearlcatcher-problems]

maferzin ᛜ amphithere ᛜ queen of the roost

she ! the bean ! the long noodle ! I keep referring to her as the spaghetti project, so thankful to have it done after all the chaos this month q wq

Lore rambles about the amphitheres / roost under the cut to keep things tidy

Amphitheres. Noisy, multi-winged beasts that flocked in the remains of a Harpy outpost after the lich's fall due to a surplus of energy there, choosing to leech directly from the corrupted magics to fuel their flock rather than worry of possible risks as the benefits far outweigh any possible negatives. They have a drive for survival and know that they do so better in numbers, which requires above all protection, sustenance, and a strong sense of community between the flock. They're smart, but they're... not smart. While they can understand difficult concepts and engage in philosophy, a lot of the time they'd just rather.... not. In general, Roost Amphitheres tend to find more joy in the more 'stupid' aspects in life: unironically engaging in the equivalent to 'meme culture' in their little community.

Unironically, these little pea-brained idiots name themselves after whatever little thing makes them giggle the most so that they get to hear it time and time again and share that experience with friends. As amphitheres depends on identifying each other via scent patterns, the name is as much an accessory to them as the garb they wrap themselves in. There are some Amphitheres who may change their name once a week, others that simply end up finding something that feels right to them and staying with it their whole lives.

( Fun fact: most of the Roost Amphitheres are named after parts of the dubbed nanalan show because it tickles my brain so much! Maferzin, Peepo, and Nasa are all ones that have survived the name cycle over the years to keep to this homage! )

They are quick to react and slow to forgive, making them risky allies for many reasons. It's not uncommon for them to end up scrapping with dragonkin over veiled insults towards their nonsense habits or their more beast-like mannerisms when feeding / playing / existing in general, which has made creating long-lasting allies a hardship. In recent years, researchers from the main allied outpost have tried to gain access to Roost grounds to survey the lich's remains and form diplomatic bonds with the Amphitheres under Spire's guidance, which has been... mostly successful. There's been a glut of magic from the lich this season as his corpse will take aeons to properly decay, leaving the Amphitheres full to glut on his magic, jolly, and generally more amicable.

Physiologically, amphitheres are serpentine creatures that have bodies covered with scale and fur, and have no proper 'limbs' beyond wings. Six tends to be the norm, but some have been recorded with more or less depending on their heritage and how heavily the corruption has settled through their bloodline. 'Maneuvering' wing limbs usually have a singular or pair of clawed digits to allow them to grip or climb, whereas their main 'flying' wings are relatively normal. Some breeds may even fold up maneuvering wings for ease of flying depending on how poorly laid out they are. Two horns is the norm, but four have been recorded. Some may grind off their horns entirely if they get in the way of flying or entangled too much, it's also not uncommon for some to be broken from brawling.

Maferzin is the head of the roost, Queen of the Amphithere flock and considers herself to be quite the catch. She's large for an amphithere, but still dwarfed in comparison to Spire- something that goes to his favour as she's not used to feeling small and dainty around other dragons. As matriarch, her bloodline has cemented itself through the Roost's lineage, having multiple offspring thriving within their flock now, some expecting clutches of their own. She is a good leader in making the right call for her people, but not always the most empathetic to the struggles of others. She is a deep romantic at heart though and has found peace with the plentiful season in being able to simply thrive and enjoy the finer things in life: good company, a plentiful den, the newest in allied clan garb from the neighbouring silk trader....

She's never been one for frivolities, but with the new trade agreements and allies have come gifts. This has been a new pleasure she's very much enjoyed: thoroughly dressing both herself and her kin up in whichever finery the neighbouring seamstress sends their way ( she's honestly just thrilled to have a new body shape / flight pattern to clothe!! ) She has learned to keep whichever poorly-shaped pearls around her midsection, as they're the ones most likely to be pulled as she scales and winds herself around things.

While the species is jovial now, when starved... things change. They will attack anything that moves and wipe out entire ecosystems if left to their own unchecked. They are nasty buggers to fight as many of them tend to be venomous and they are always in large numbers. When alerted, many of them will create noise to pass on the alarm to neighbouring Amphitheres, usually in the form of hissing or rattling of tails ( for those who have rattles. ) Having them be peaceful long-term is a beneficial goal for everyone, as their existence allows plentiful research on lichfall from the main outpost, and having them be calm allows safe trade routes through their domain for other outposts. As such, the main outpost has devised a back up plan for if things do fall into a bad season via a storage system of liquid ley via the elementals at the oasis.

It's a delicate balance keeping it all afloat, but they're all somehow bound by the lich's fall and need to support themselves somehow.

Also, the base sketch of this was from literal years ago but I've been crying for the energy to actually tackle it. Feeling very good about being able to do so now!

[whatonearthisgoingon]

MCU Crossover Idea?

I want a movie, a What If episode, a little season, whatever the fuck, of Deadpool and Wolverine, and Eddie and Venom.

I want to see exasperated Eddie and Logan sitting together drinking beer, as their chaotic murderous boyfriends do crazy shit.

I want to see Logan and Venom spar for funsies while their boyfriends cheer them on.

I want Venom to get fed up with Logan/Wade and he just bites a fucking limb off, and the respective victim just stares in shock/annoyance; said victim either walks away to get a beer, or straight up brawls Venom.

I want Venom, Logan, and Wade talking about how immortality/super long life span is both a blessing and a curse.

I want Venom to sit infront of the 3 of them and give them story time about all the different galaxies he's traveled across throughout his lifetime.

I want Wade to tell stories about all the different Wolverine's he met across the Multi-verse before he found the "worst" Logan.

I want the 4 to talk about all their different traumas together, and comfort each other. There's big cuddle piles when one or two are feeling really down.

I want Venom and Wade to make sex jokes with their bfs, annoying the fuck out of them, and the two fist bump when the other successfully flusters their partner to the point of struggling to function.

I want to see this quad of chaos have some crazy action fight against some big bad villain, and they're all doing amazing throughout it, because they're amazing and would make a great team of immortals.

I want a TV series of Deadpool, Wolverine, Eddie, and Venom.

[princessleechan]

"You're the man!" Chapter 20 Written Chapter

Masterlist

⚽Chapter tags: MDNI, she’s the man au, revenge au???, cross dressing!reader, reader identifies anything but male, sports au, queer themes, university au, love-whatever the fuck kind of shape, the kissing booth scene, some steaming kissing, a good brawl, and someone unexpected, written chapter (2k wc)

⚽Tag list: @90s-belladonna @the-boy-meets-evil @lirtha97 @hipsdofangirl @justineasian @kwanisms @multi-kpop-fanfics @pantumin @wooahaeproductions @mayashu @shuasdraftsalt @lone-lone-ranger @headlockimnida @horanghaezone @haolistic @porridgesblog @jeonjungkaka @luchiet @ujimatchaaa @skzdesi @cheoliehansolie @vlbii @myghobi @sisterofsomeone @joonsytip @gyublues @alltheshineofthestars-blog @randomworker @isabellah29 @savgogh @too-many-kpop-hubands @shingsoluvely @kamabokogonpachro @skittlez-area512 @seccdlurv @chisskaa @mochiteez @theyluvfrankocean @lllucere @thomawifey @middle-of-the-earth @okiedokrie @itsokaytobedumb00 @humankimbap @zezedoesshit @teenyfinds @jeonghansshitester @aaa-sia @heyitz00 @silvsie

You've gone from arriving at the carnival in a dress and avoiding Melli like she could kill you, to almost exposing yourself to your teammates while changing from the bushes to a moving spinning teacup, and giving Seokmin a well-deserved slap to the face—all without getting caught. You're quite proud of yourself for this feat. Now, all that's left is the kissing booth.

The dreaded kissing booth. Just one more thing to get through.

Meanwhile, Mingyu waited impatiently in line, finally nearing the front, with an anxious bounce in his step. His eyes darted around nervously, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Wonwoo, following behind, adjusted his glasses, let out a smug chuckle, and rested a firm grip on his friend's shoulder. "Down, boy."

Mingyu swatted him away, feeling every bead of sweat trailing down his neck and forehead. He wiped his palms on his jeans, trying to steady his breathing. The anticipation was almost unbearable, and he glanced back at Wonwoo, who seemed annoyingly calm. Mingyu's thoughts raced as he inched closer to the front of the line, his nerves buzzing with every step. “Fuck off. I’m having a mental breakdown.”

“Don’t make it obvious. You’re almost there.”

As the boys continued their conversation, Chae was grappling with customer after customer at the kissing booth. The final one, right before Mingyu, seemed to be taking an eternity. She forced a smile, trying to hide her discomfort as the man—who gave off definite freshman vibes at most—finally pulled away. His breath was a potent blend of turkey leg and popcorn, the greasy aroma clinging to her lips. She could practically feel the butter and salt seeping into her skin, and the lingering taste made her stomach churn in the most foul way.

Suppressing the urge to gag, she discreetly wiped her lips with the back of her hand, desperate for an opening to rinse out her mouth. The thought of that flavor staying with her all night was almost unbearable. She glanced around, hoping for a moment to catch her breath and shake off the unpleasant encounter, while silently praying the next customer would be quicker and less offensive.

“Here you go,” Wonwoo patted the nervous mountain of a man, “You’re finally gonna know what it’s like to suck face with Chae. Your truest most devestating victory. Making you a men amongst…well yourself. Still, an accomplishment nonetheless. And now there’s nothing–”

You hurried towards the booth, the urgency of the moment making your heart race against both speed and time. As you reached Chae, you couldn't help but flash her a kind smile, eager to take over after the marathon you ran. “Hi, I’m here to relieve you!”

The smiles on Wonwoo and Mingyu’s faces faded, and now the pats from the spectacled man felt more apologetic than encouraging. “Or not.”

Chae released a breath of relief. “Oh, thank god. By the way, be careful of the older guy coming up,” she warned, her eyes darting to a silver-haired man a couple of customers behind the line. “He’s chewing on something and I don’t think it’s gum. And for the love of god, don’t even crack your mouth open the slightest bit when you kiss. They’ll take it as an invitation.”

You furrowed your brow slightly. “Noted.”

Before leaving, Chae quietly scrutinized your appearance, her gaze searching for recognition of your features. “Have we met before?”

You chuckled nervously, feeling a knot of apprehension form in your stomach, as you shook your head in denial. “No,” you replied curtly, giving her a reassuring pat on the back before leading her out of the way.

Mingyu trudged towards you, his gaze unwilling to leave Chae’s retreating figure, softly muttering sounds of remorse under his breath. “Just my luck.”

“Oh, sorry,” you replied with a hint of disappointment evident in your tone.

"Oh! Not because of you, because you are..." He stumbled over his words, his gaze lingering on his source of dismay as he drank in the soft contours of your features. Your eyes, gentle and mesmerizing, seemed to dance in the warm sunlight, casting a spell on him. The gentle breeze tousled your hair, effortlessly arranging it in a perfect frame around your face. And your smile, though slightly awkward, possessed its own gentle yet friendly charm. Mingyu felt a flutter in his chest as he struggled to find his breath and he was unsure whether it was because of you or the lingering effects of his crush from before her departure. “You’re… you know…”

"I am?" You responded, slightly confused but perceptive enough to recognize that he was attempting to compliment you in his own boyish manner. "Thanks, I think," you added with a hint of amusement.

"Yeah," Mingyu felt a smile creeping onto his face, "Just know I mean no offense. Not in the slightest."

Wonwoo scoffed, crossing his arms. "No need to flirt, you know," he remarked, his tone tinged with amusement.

"Yeah," an outsider interjected in annoyance, flashing his belt of tickets like a trophy, "It’s not the time to go steady. You paid for your time, so pucker up so the rest of us can too."

Mingyu gritted his teeth as he turned around, his tanned skin flushed with a bright shade of embarrassment. "Why don't you both just chill out?"

Turning back to you, Mingyu cleared his throat. “I guess I should be kissing you now.”

"Right," you chuckled nervously, trying to steady your breathing, feeling a bundle of nerves coiling inside you already. "Here we go."

"Here we go."

It took a moment to find the right head placements, uncertain whether to lean right or left, but as your lips met his, there was no going back. The warmth of his breath against your skin, the softness of his lips, and the subtle tension in the air crackled like a kindling fire. Your eyes instinctively closed, hands finding their place against his forearms as you leaned in deeper, feeling the movement of his luscious lips transporting you to another realm.

When he finally pulled away, you tasted regret lingering between you, sensing his own conflicted emotions. “Okay, I think that’s worth one ticket,” he murmured, his breath fractured against the charged atmosphere.

“No, you've got a few more seconds,” you countered hungrily before eagerly diving in for seconds with even less reluctance.

Your fingertips brushed against the warmth of his cheeks, tracing the rugged contours of his face, as if committing every detail to memory for later satisfaction. Urgently, you pulled him closer, craving the taste of his lips against yours. Meanwhile, his hand claimed your waist possessively, pulling you closer as if afraid to lose the sensation, worried about ever feeling like this again.

At that moment, both of you seemed to devour the heat that the kiss ignited, a primal hunger burning with an intensity neither of you could deny. With each passing second, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate embrace that felt simultaneously fleeting and eternal.

“Hello…” the outsider sounded out. “Get a fucking hotel or something if you’re gonna get your dick wet, dude.”

The kiss ended abruptly with a hand on your shoulder roughly tugging you away from the scene. “Y/n, what the fuck are you doing with this guy?”

Your eyes shot back at Seokmin, catching the flash of anger in his gaze, but you didn't hesitate before firing back, “Hey, I was getting into that!”

“Excuse me, rock for brains. What are you doing making out with my Y/n?” Seokmin's voice dripped with venom and delusion.

Mingyu's eyes blazed with annoyance as he recognized the unwelcome intrusion that was Lee Seokmin. He had encountered the same-aged man more times than he cared to count, recalling their past battles for scholarships, facing off on opposite teams in various games, and every time Seokmin spoke, Mingyu felt himself recoil in disgust from the other's lack of sportsmanship. He wasn't a true soccer player; he merely kicked the ball around and messed about as if it meant nothing. The worst kind of colleague to have, and that was putting lightly.

"Excuse me," you interjected firmly, shoving your ex aside, "I am not yours."

Seokmin scoffed, his demeanor oozing with superiority. “Y/n, I told you your brother was going to the inferior school, and yet you’re macking with their biggest resident douchebags. I am beyond disappointed.”

“What does Yeonam have to do with this?” you asked, your tone tinged with offense at the implication.

Mingyu's gaze shifted toward you, a flicker of surprise lighting up his eyes as he began to piece together the puzzle. “Wait, Yeonam is your brother?” he echoed, comprehension dawning on him. His expression shifted into a mix of confusion and realization, a silent acknowledgment of his misstep evident in his befuddled expression that seemed to say, 'Oh, I fucked up.’

“Now that that’s cleared up, you’re about to get your fucking ass beat,” Seokmin spat.

Mingyu inflated his chest, adopting a confident swagger as he leisurely advanced toward Seokmin, his smug smile stretching across his face like a victorious conqueror. “What are you gonna do? All I need to do is hurl a ball at your nuts, and you’re down, buddy. Tears and everything.”

“That was you?” you exclaimed, now the surprised one.

Seokmin quickly tried to hush you, “Those were not tears! Something got in my eyes when I fell! You better watch yourself, Kim.”

“Or what?” Mingyu challenged, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing with determination.

You rushed to intervene, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “Guys, this isn’t the place or the time. Let’s just cool down, okay?”

Seokmin's demeanor softened momentarily as he glanced at you. “You’re right, baby…or?”

Without warning, Seokmin swung a fist and landed it squarely on Mingyu's jaw, igniting an all-out brawl. Mingyu stumbled backward, clutching his face in pain as the crowd around them gasped, some even beginning to cheer, adding to the chaotic scene. Quick to recover, Mingyu retaliated, launching himself at Seokmin with a vengeance, delivering a blow to his ribs. You desperately tried to pull them apart, your voice drowned out by the noise of the onlookers.

Meanwhile, their tumultuous scuffle sent them careening from the face painting booth to the popcorn machine, narrowly missing poor Chan who was managing it. In the midst of the chaos, you found yourself tumbling headfirst into an innocuous display of cotton candy, the sticky sweetness clinging to your hair and clothes as you struggled to regain your footing.

As Mingyu and Seokmin continued to grapple with each other, they crashed into a stack of carnival prizes, sending stuffed animals flying in every direction. The crowd erupted in a mix of laughter and shock, drawing more onlookers by the second. Amidst the pandemonium, the distant blare of a security whistle signaled that your time to defuse the situation was running out.

Just as things seemed to spiral further out of control, your mother, the vice head of all things debutante, stepped in to intervene. "Stop it! Stop it! That’s quite enough," she exclaimed, her authoritative voice cutting through the chaos. She addressed you sternly, noting your involvement in the melee. "Y/n, this behavior is unbecoming and inappropriate! All of you! How could you let it get this far?"

Frustration simmered beneath the surface as you scowled, picking bits of food from your dress. Despite the urge to argue back, you held your tongue, unwilling to escalate the situation any further. Instead, you focused on composing yourself, brushing off the crumbs with an air of dignity amidst the carnival mayhem.

“The two of you are to leave the premises at once!” The head lady of the debutante society followed, her voice stern and authoritative as she lectured them like a disappointed parent. As Mingyu and Seokmin were escorted away, the carnival fell into a hushed buzz of gossip, with whispers spreading like wildfire about the dramatic altercation.

Meanwhile, you maneuvered through the crowd, attempting to blend in like a flock of pigeons amidst pedestrians, successfully avoiding the chaotic scene until you collided with a firm, warm body. Startled, you looked up to apologize, but before you could speak, their hand wrapped around your figure, steadying you. Meeting their eyes, you found a mixture of amusement and tenderness.

“Soonyoung,” you breathed out softly.

“There you are. You're here,” he claimed softly, a reassuring smile gracing his lips.

“Yeah, uh, a lot's happened,” you replied, feeling a wave of relief at his presence.

He took your hand, his smile growing wider. “You can tell me all about it once we get out of here.” 

[baby-tini]

Okay so this isn’t a request but more me being absolutely blasted while reading your content but…

I’m giggling imaging all the Mikey’s and their respective y/n’s meeting each other. Racer Mikey and his y/n are the only relatively healthy couple, so they’re both just staring in absolute horror (more so Mikey because he can’t possibly fathom ever hurting y/n) as the two of them watch other “hims” beat the shit out of (cough Kantou) their y/n, or be over all toxic and horrible lovers. Racer is just like “unhand your (my..) wife???? Let her go??? You fucking freak???” And

Dude I can’t stop gigglign over this plz

Nooo stop, I love this so much, I've thought about things similar to this, way too many times if i'm honest. This would, I don't think the right word is cute, given how the other timeline versions of Mikey interact with their respective partner. But I do really love this idea.

I can just imagine Kanto!Mikeys y/n walking up to Street Racer!Mikeys y/n and she's wearing something slightly revealing and Kantos y/n is just like "he let you walk out the house like that???" and Street Racers y/n is just like "what's he gonna do? Tell me no? In what universe?" and Kantos y/n just looks at Kanto!Mikey with a sigh as she responds with, "not yours apparently."

But your little scenario is so funny to me, cause you're so right. If Street Racer Mikey even hears another version of himself talking down to a version of you, he's gonna be pissed, you might even have a multi Mikey brawl, that shit would be scary, I mean, one Mikeys scary enough.. BUT 5?!?! There's definitely gonna be some fights. Some pretty.. bloody ones at that.

I'm also gonna add a new tag called, Multiple!Mikeys, so, all the timeline mikey stuff will be under that