#reading another fic
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padfootastic · 5 days ago
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every time i read a fic where lily evans is upheld as a paragon of justice and the underdogs and the vulnerable, i die a little inside
bc,,,,are we talking ab the same gal who kept defending snape for atleast five years of hogwarts and however many before that? who overlooked his bigoted actions, even when others called it/her out on it?
ugh
(now james, on the other hand? we have such clear evidence that he fits this archetype but ofc that’s overlooked isn’t it. gonna shut up here but will take the rant into the tags)
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raynewolferune · 5 months ago
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DC x DP Prompt: Bruce is bad at emoting but at least ghosts are empathic (too bad bat kids are not)
Was reading Twincognito on AO3 when I stumbled across this gem again:
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" “Danny, Tim. I was just…checking in. Is everything alright?” Curse his inability to make meaningful conversation when it wasn’t a life or death situation.
They glanced at each other and shrugged.
Then Danny hauled himself out of the bed and walked over to Bruce.
Bruce tried not to let too much excitement show on his face. "
~
Now I really want to read a story where Bruce adopts Danny post Meta trafficking and is being his usual emotionally constipated self. His kids keep getting mad at him because he's treating their new meta brother who was trafficked poorly (generally being stilted in conversation with him, walking away hurriedly mid-conversation, avoiding Danny when he's feeling really awkward, etc). They think Bruce is discriminating against Danny for being a civilian, meta, dealer's pick, but really it's just Bruce being horribly socially awkward. Danny knows this because of ghost empathy and find the whole thing hilarious. The whole thing comes to a head with the Bat Kids staging an intervention in the Bat Cave.
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lgbtlunaverse · 11 months ago
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There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.
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hana-no-seiiki · 6 months ago
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yandere! husband who’s so fucking in love with you that even dreaming about kissing another person makes him wake up in cold sweat, rushing to the bathroom to wash his lips raw.
funny how even as he proceeded to surround himself with water, only the guilt drowned him.
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noodles-and-tea · 6 months ago
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Your Merthur fanart is amazing! I LOVE the way you capture their expressions!!! If you've got the spoons might I request Arthur seeing Merlin in a wedding dress and being absolutely poleaxed because since when was Merlin hot- (they're idiots in love your honor). You capture their entire like. Fundamental dynamic SO WELL; your art is expressive and beautiful and I love it.
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Merlin likes t help where he can
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ao3-crack · 1 year ago
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(x)
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troublegoblin · 2 months ago
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love when characters who have spent their whole lives believing they are annoying, useless, and a burden are told (and shown) that loving them is like breathing and that they are not required to be anything but alive for this love. for normal and not personal reasons at all.
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buggachat · 11 months ago
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i love you weird fics i love you very specific fics that you can tell the author created "self-indulgently" i love you fics that you read and then cant forget because the author clearly had so much fun writing it because it's too uniquely weird for it not to have been a blast to write and therefore read and remember forever
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helpallthenamesaretaken · 8 months ago
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i love how different percabeth is from different male lead narrated american middle school romances from the romantic point of view. usually, the male lead has a crush on the cold and kind of mean female protagonist cause she's pretty and not like the other girls.....she's pretty and not like the other girls....thats it oops. but annabeth and percy. annabeth fell first. even though she's cold and sassy too, she believed in percy. she saw the good in him and loved him for it. then percy fell. he didnt have to worry about whether annabeth would like a loser like him. yeah, he doubted why annabeth liked him once in a while, but it was a never a question of 'does she?' its healthy. and thats what makes rick riordan one of the best middle school authors ever thank you bye
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bubblingsteam · 8 months ago
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teasodium · 1 year ago
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that moment when you are the eldest sibling n you coerce your youngest sibling with snacks so they can give emotional advice (ghibli redraw also >;3)
silly fun idea that i may follow up one day with Mikey info dumping about Edo period queerness.
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kunimilktea · 5 months ago
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Doodle dump!
Brainrot so bad i made a fanchild 💀💀💀
Also dont ask me why i have tons of colored sketches in such a short amount of time im also freaking myself out 💀
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dilfmobius · 5 months ago
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Kneel.
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hothammies · 8 months ago
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two guys arguing at the aquarium? must be lovers (fic)
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tusks-and-claws · 2 years ago
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Cold Love/Hot Blood
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Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary: “Between teeth on a broken jaw/following a bloodtrail, frothing at the maw”
Miguel is struck with something that he’s never experienced before
Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, dubcon by way of pheromones, fingering, overstimulation, squirting, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, feral Miguel, biting, marking, blood drinking, paralytic venom
Wordcount: 3k
Ao3 link here
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You opened your eyes, blinking at the soft light from the bleary haze. Wincing, you raised your hand to your head. It didn't necessarily hurt, but it definitely felt wrong. What had happened? You were on a mission. That's right. And it had been going so well, until… until the anomaly villain threw something at you and Miguel. What was it? It had such an awful smell to it. And, where was Miguel?
You traversed the rubble of the abandoned building you were in. You couldn't see him. You shouted out for him.
"Here, I'm here," you heard him from the distance. Following his voice, you found him under some pieces of sheetrock from a collapsed wall. He was pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask.
"Geez, Miguel, are you alright?"
"Been better." His voice sounded strained. "Got a transmission from Jess that she's got hands on the anomaly. We'll meet her back at HQ. You go on ahead of me."
"What? No, we have to-" you started grabbing at the rubble to pull it off of him. He caught your arm before you could keep lifting.
"Please," he said, trying to meet your eyes from behind his mask. "Just go."
"What the hell is going on, Miguel? You're not… you're not acting right. We have to get you out of here."
He brought his hands up, holding his head in frustration. "Please, just do it. Don't make me beg."
"LYLA, please check him," you said, the avatar popping up and saluting you.
"No, don't-!" He tried to catch her in the air but she evaded him.
"His heart rate is really elevated but he seems okay otherwise. I think he's being dramatic. I don't detect any major injuries," she reported. You thanked her and she disappeared.
You crouched down to where he was. "What's going on, Miguel?" Your tone was serious.
He tried to hold your gaze for a moment until he swore and looked away. "That bomb that the anomaly threw… it affected me in a way that it clearly didn't affect anyone else, alright? Are you happy now?"
You furrowed your brow. "I don't understand."
He sighed, his breath shaking ever so slightly. "Itwasapheromonebomb." He said it so quickly and quietly.
"...What?"
"It was a pheromone bomb. Just leave me here so I can wait it out. This is so shocking humiliating- I," he sighed again. "Don't make me explain any further."
You blushed, not sure what to say. But you couldn't leave him like that, half-buried and vulnerable. "Can I at least help you up…? I promise I won't make fun of you. I just can't leave you defenseless like this."
He seethed for a moment, considering your offer. "...Fine. Grab this stupid sheetrock."
You did so, lifting it off of him with some effort. He did his best to stand up quickly. Despite his best, though, you could see the source of his embarrassment. He had a rock hard erection, and a particularly desperate one, by the looks of it. It laid upward, reaching towards his abdomen and pushing up against the tight fabric of his suit, straining. The size of him was nothing short of impressive.
You turned your gaze pointedly towards the ground as he moved away from the pile of rubble. Don't react don't react don't react. Could you pretend like you didn't notice? Even though not noticing was impossible, even from a single glance? You swallowed a lump in your throat, your head swimming with unprofessional thoughts.
Miguel turned from you, crouching down, hissing out a slow breath. "Fuck, it's getting worse," he whispered to himself, his body starting to tremble.
You took a step closer, reaching a hand out to his shoulder.
"Your proximity isn't… isn't helping." He admitted without turning around.
You stopped, silently moving your hand away from him. Touching him would surely make things harder.
"Miguel, I don't think waiting it out is an option for you. You just said it was getting worse."
He swore under his breath to himself. "I didn't mean for you to hear that. This is- shock it- this is completely foreign to me. Never been hit by anything like this before, it's s-so intense."
You winced at that, you'd never heard his voice so pained. But, what was the other option? You shivered just to think about it, your body reacting in ways that surprised you. How could you possibly propose helping him without making him think less of you? Would he even want help from you? Across from you, he was in turmoil, on his hands and knees trying desperately to control his breathing.
“Miguel… how can I help you?” It was a foolish question, a loaded question.
“You know the answer,” he replied from over his shoulder, his tone cold. He cried out again. “I- I can’t- can’t do that to you.”
“What if I’m offering?” You asked, a little too quickly, pushing down your fear and embarrassment for even thinking such things.
He turned further to meet your eyes, though you still couldn’t see his from behind the mask. You didn’t even need to see his eyes, his body language was communicating perfectly on their behalf. His muscles were pent up and quivering. Every breath rocked his massive shoulders. “Why?”
You didn’t think he’d ask that question. You searched your brain for an answer. “Because it isn’t your fault. And I respect you enough that this won’t change my mind.”
His thoughts seemed to be diverting to his baser instincts, his voice becoming a growl. “Need you… to be sure. Don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”
“I’m sure,” you said.
In no time at all, he pounced, bringing you to the ground. He was on top of you, his taloned fingers caging in your wrists against the cracked concrete of the floor, your arms above your head. You landed with your legs apart and with him between them, his hips desperately close to yours. Your eyes widened at his feral energy, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. He brought his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling. His exhale was shaky. “You smell so good… always smelled so good.”
Your body grew hot upon hearing that. Always? Had he thought about you in that way before? You smiled to yourself as he nuzzled the nose of his masked face into your neck, his hot breath coming through and ghosting over your skin. You could feel his huge frame shaking around you. He brought his hips down to your pelvis, seemingly being as cautious as possible as he began to grind his hardened length against you. His breath quickened at the contact, and he met you again with fervor, stimulating himself on you. His cock was unbelievably hard and hot, the temperature of him coming through both of your suits to meet your skin and overwhelm you. The feeling of him against you was sending shivers down your spine, the pleasant pressure made even sweeter by the promise of more to come. He positioned himself on top of you in such a way that each rhythmic, grinding rock found your clit and teased it with clothed contact.
You moaned lightly, the sound of it causing him to growl into your neck. You lifted your hips up, meeting him with the same tempo so he could grind into you more thoroughly, your bodies now writhing in tandem. His heavy breathing became panting. "Need to… need to touch you." He picked up his head and released your wrists, one hand steadying himself on the concrete, the other reaching down eagerly.
You got the memo, quickly slipping the pants of your suit down and throwing them aside so he wouldn't rip them off for you. You had at least enough hindsight to know you couldn't go back to HQ looking so disheveled. He dismissed the gloves of his suit and retracted his talons as his fingers found you immediately, honing in on the wet heat of your sex. Two plunged inside as he loomed above you, his muscles shaking again as he wet his fingers with your arousal. You shook right alongside him, your reaction bodily, as your back arched and your legs closed instinctively to hold his hand in place and not let him go. His fingers hooked inside of you, already relentless.
"Soaked," he whispered, almost to himself. The word resonated with a deep, animalistic hunger. Without removing his fingers from your warmth, he sat back on his knees and used his free hand to pry your legs open. "Need to see," he said. He watched the length of his fingers disappear over and over. The large hand that kept your legs wide was squeezing the soft flesh of your inner thigh, and he seemed fixated on the way it was yielding to his rough touches. Nearly everyone was small compared to Miguel, but you… you were different. He had his hands on you, inside of you, the comparison was tangible. You were small, soft, and his. His mind swam with how he would take you, how he would sheath himself inside of you until he bottomed out, how he would desperately fill you with his hot cum and hold your hips up to keep any precious drops from leaking out. It took everything in him to not reach down and start rubbing his impatient cock through his suit, but his fevered brain convinced him to keep his free hand on your leg so he could watch you fall apart from his fingers alone.
He was delirious as your walls started to spasm around his fingers, white hot pleasure pooling in your core, threatening to overflow as he kept up his efforts. The constriction of your muscles bolstered him, and he began to go faster and harder, starting to overstimulate you. You threw your head back, hands wildly trying to grasp at something on the concrete floor but coming up short. He removed his hand from your throbbing sex to start teasing your clit with abandon, and you moaned as your body lifted up off the floor.
"H-holy shit, Miguel," you gasped out. "It's- it's so much."
His hand moved so fast against your swollen clit that you could hardly think. The feeling was electric, and your orgasm was dangerously close. Your legs started to shake and tried to close around him again, but he kept them forced open as he intently watched, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths. You came and it utterly racked you, your body shuddering as you cried out, hot liquid spewing from you and drenching Miguel's hand and forearm. You squirted on him, because of him. You thought you should be embarrassed, but he gave you no opportunity.
As your head just started to clear, he recalled his mask into the neck of his suit. You quietly gasped at unexpectedly seeing his face. So strong, angular, and handsome. His red eyes looked wild, his mouth was open, his fangs fully extended. He studied his hand, turning it over so the mess you made could catch the light. As it started to dry down on him, he brought the two fingers that had been inside of you up to his mouth, and he licked them both clean. You gaped at him, almost fully unable to process what was happening.
When he was finished, he turned his gaze from his fingers and back onto you, as you sat up on your elbows to watch him. You saw that his cock was still as hard as ever, still pushing to break free. As if reading your mind, he recalled that part of his suit too as he grabbed your legs and yanked you toward him. He rested his cock over your abdomen, once again reveling in just how much bigger than you he was. The hot weight of his manhood on your skin set you ablaze once more and you eagerly awaited him. He thrusted but without penetrating you, sliding himself over you and wetting his cock on your cum. His exhales quaked with anticipation until he could wait no longer. Even on his knees, he towered over you, and so he needed to tilt your hips up further so your entrance could meet the head of his leaking cock. He shifted his grip to your waist, holding firm as you steadied yourself on your elbows and looked to him with bated breath.
He slowly pushed his hips into you, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. The steady penetration had you reeling. You needed to feel him, all of him. Every inch, all at once. It felt like it took ages for him to finally reach the hilt, but when he did, he waited inside of you for a brief, merciful moment. You basked in the feeling of being so full, so complete. He began to pull himself out of you, leaving you cold and empty for a split second until he slammed his entire length back into you, repeating and repeating at an unwavering pace.
Each powerful thrust reached so deep inside of you that it was nearly painful. Immediately, the head of his cock found your cervix and was hitting it with each hard pump that Miguel delivered. Your eyelids grew heavy as your eyes began to roll back towards your skull. His onslaught was so thorough, every smack of his hips against your pelvis reverberating through every inch of your body. The overstimulation of when he fingerfucked you had carried over, and you were already close to losing control all over again. He felt it too, as he growled in response to your pulsating walls.
"This cunt…." He snarled through his fangs. "This cunt is mine."
"Yours," you moaned, meeting his words a little too quickly.
"Going to mark you… so everyone knows."
"Mark me, Miguel." You agreed, not quite realizing what he meant. He started to lay you down onto the ground without removing himself from you, continuing to fuck you in missionary as he brought his face down to the crook of your neck. Your pulse quickened with excitement. He opened his mouth, his breath making your skin somehow even warmer. You wished that you could've seen the flash of his fangs before what came next.
He bit down on you, hard, and you could feel the course of his venom like molten lava through your veins. When the searing heat reached its crest, a soothing wash of warmth followed in its wake, leaving your muscles loosened and relaxed. Blood started to drip down your shoulder, the wet trickle quickly cooling as it made contact with the atmosphere. Miguel stayed latched to you as his tongue met your skin, lapping at the red stream, determined to consume it all.
You submitted to him fully, allowing him to position you how he saw fit so he could fulfill his feral need. His strong hands snaked around your torso to your back, lifting you up with him as he rocked back onto his knees. He helped you to swing your legs around his slim waist and to drape your arms over his huge shoulders. You let your face settle against his neck, the clean musky smell of him overwhelming your senses. His hands found your hips and he effortlessly lifted you up and down on his cock, fucking himself with your pussy like you weighed nothing at all. You moaned into him as you clenched around his cock, your limp body succumbing to the overpowering feeling of him. You started to shudder as your orgasm claimed you with a white-knuckled grip. You whined into Miguel's neck as it hit you with shock after shock, your vision going spotty while your cunt tightened around him.  
He couldn't hold it any longer, and his cock jerked inside of you as he came. You were still getting hit with aftershocks of your own climax, your muscles bearing down to milk every drop of cum that he filled you with. He held you closer and he thrusted himself as far into you as he possibly could, instinctively trying to make sure as little seed would have the chance to leak out of you as possible.
Your muscle control started to slowly come back to you as you and Miguel were chest-to-chest, both of you sweating and heaving. You weakly raised your arms so your hands could tangle with the hair at the nape of his neck. You lingered there for a bit, his strong arms holding you in the place as you played with soft locks of chocolate hair. You finally leaned back to see clarity slowly returning to Miguel's expression, and he looked utterly mortified. He held your gaze as he turned red, removing one hand from your body so he could cover his face.
"Oh my God," he whispered. "What the shock came over me?"
You were struck with sudden fear. "Do you… not remember?" The fact that he was still buried inside you should've been a dead giveaway.
"No, I do," he said, nervously. "I remember getting hit with that stupid bomb, and you helping me, then me wanting to split you in half."
You couldn't help but giggle at that.
"I tried to make sure I wasn't too rough with you. I was still in there, the whole time," he said, taking his hand away from his face to smooth your hair. He stopped when he reached your neck, seeing the bite marks he left. "Guess I didn't do all that well, did I?"
"It's fine. I can take it."
"Clearly," he said, raising his eyebrows, mildly impressed. "Thank you. I… don't know what I would have gone through if you hadn't been so… generous. But… for God’s sake, let’s not go around telling people what happened. We have reputations.”
You agreed, the secret safe between the two of you, the puncture wounds on your neck a silent souvenir.
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koipalm · 6 months ago
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in the myth of eros and psyche, her last task is go to the underworld and retrieve some of persephone's beauty. so here's her in hades, where zagreus hasn't found his mother yet. the 'beauty of persephone' she brings back are gifts from zagreus, as he's the last of his mother's beauty in the underworld
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