#this is a fanfic btw
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thechaosgods · 2 years ago
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Has Anyone else read Domovoi? It was pivotal in my PacRim addiction, and I still think about it.
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airlocksandaviaries · 2 years ago
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2 genres of fanfiction:
1) put that guy into situations
2) take that guy OUT of situations for the love of GOD let them REST 
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evadingreallife · 6 months ago
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(By trope-specific i mean for example all the slash fics hosting websites, or the nsfw-only ones, etc)
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pagesinmylife · 7 months ago
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I don’t care if this comes off as cruel but you are not entitled to fanfiction. You are not entitled to podfics. You are not entitled to translated works.
Creators are not paid to make fanworks. People spend years of their lives writing fic and getting nothing in return except positive interactions. You can ask to make a translation. You can ask to make a pod fic. But you cannot demand it.
And because the only thing fanfic writers get in return for their work is positive feedback, taking away an authors ability to receive that is disgusting. Authors deserve to have full control and ownership of their works.
Fanfic isn’t a product to consume and then demand more of. Authors and creators deserve better.
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pacificwaternymph · 4 months ago
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Did you guys know that Duke's tag on Ao3 only has 7,000 fics? Because I didn't.
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watcher0033 · 1 year ago
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Y’all, the Archive admins are made up of VOLUNTEERS. And they have been working for 12-13 HOURS STRAIGHT.
I better not hear any complaints when donation period comes around. OR ELSE.
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cosplay by @woahchriswoah on Twitter
EDIT: How do we show appreciation to the volunteers? For me reading these deep dives on OTW issues u guys apparently it's been said multiple times that one of their objective statements is to have paid staff for ao3 and there's a surplus of donations they haven't used up or the other community solutions that needs to address. For those more financially literate feel free to analyze, snipe me or add to the discussion etc. linked here by deepa. They’re cool and these yearly analysis they did aint no joke.
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But Seriously what can we do for these volunteers? The probable burn out from this entire fiasco would be no joke. @ao3org
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quarterlifekitty · 16 days ago
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Thinking about the difference between being called bunny and rabbit by price
Bunny is a soft, helpless domestic little thing. Bred for his amusement (in more ways than one). Gets laid belly up, vulnerable and unaware, for Price to enjoy. Gets hand fed and carefully groomed. Bunny jumps in his lap the minute he sits down when he gets home.
Rabbit is a wide eyed, shaking prey animal that can recognize him for the predator that he is. Can see the glint of his sharp teeth. Gets chased down. Takes food in quick bursts, avoiding grabbing hands. Kicks their legs when finally caught. Needs to be held down firm with their face to the dirt, ass up, pussy presented while they get filled with his kits, teeth buried in their neck.
Edit: a little more
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fryshrimp · 1 year ago
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what beef do you have with people ages 9 and under ?
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mahoganyrust · 1 month ago
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Happy Birthday Jack!
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Did I draw this on unhealthy levels of caffeine? Yes. Do I regret it? It’s 3am so maybe but it doesn’t matter BECAUSE IT’S JACK FROST’S BIRTHDAYYYYYYYYY
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k0mmari · 2 months ago
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SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN AU
Okay, look, I've head a System SY idea for a while now (in fact, some of the ideas for this were used when I was first planning out Locked & Loaded), but after seeing @/artsarasp's System!SQQ AU, the brainworms have been once again come alive and I just need to get this out into the world. This is a very bare bones idea that I (probably) won't actually write, so walk with me for a second! Also this is going to be a very, very long post.
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In this idea, the System actually is an interdimensional organization that deal with creating new worlds based on stories and making sure these worlds continue working as intended and (eventually), sending transmigrators to worlds that need 'improvement' (this improvement being very subjectice depending on which worker is assigned which story).
In SY's case, he's just someone who usually works behing a screen, in the most exciting cases he gets to guide transmigrators around but most of the time he just makes sure the stories 'code' is running normally and nothing world-breaking is going on in the stories (like someone managing to find a hack to skip defining plot points, or activating God-Mode somehow). He's very happy with this arrangement, btw! He was never one to run around and his boss has warned him once or twice for apparently being 'way too harsh' on the few transmigrators he got to be a System for.
Unfortunately, one day he is assigned to 'manually inspect' a world because a certain co-worker of his (Shang Qinghua) had been sent down there to handle a glitch but had gone missing instead. When SY asks why was he being the one asked to do this (not that he doesn't care for his friend, but he REALLY isnt made for running around), his boss says SY is the only other one who is familiar enough with the world to not get lost.
So that's how he find out SQH had managed to get himself stuck on the world he created (as a joke even, he hadn't even expected that when he was messing around with the company's program he would actually be able to create a new world based on the shitty novel he'd written as a human). And of course, SQH only having one friend, subjected SY to the story.
SY grumbles and denies ever seeing anything about SQH's story (or liking it, even if his boss kindly points out they never mentioned SY liked it) but eventually he agrees; and that's how he finds himself being teletransported onto the world of PIDW, carrying a pair of Debugging Sheers he'd never thought he would have to hold (he calls them Big Scissors), with the mission of finding SQH and dealing with the glitch that was still somewhere in the world.
Though, when he goes to message his supervisor about the specifics (where he should go or what was the last known location of SQH), he finds out that his Personal System has apparently already been affected by the glitch ("ALREADY??") that he was realizing worked more like a virus. Fortunately some messages were still going through, and his supervisor notified him they couldn't send him directly to the location he needed to be, specially because the virus seemed to have fragmented and spread to various parts of the stories timeline. SY now has to jump around through time a few times and slowly cut doen the glitches caused by the virus.
Thus begins Shen Yuan's Great Narrative Haunting (in real time.).
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Luckily, for him, the place he first appeared was already one of the spots the virus has infected the world, and it seems to be in a town not too far away from him, so with a quick activation of the 'Ghost Mode' function (avaiable for all System staff to make it easier when they have to manually fix something, making them invisible and untouchable), SY heads to the town.
The glitch actually doesnt take too long to find (it was a buggy tree clipping onto a nearby river, which only needs a snip of the Big Scissors to disappear from reality), but when SY and passing through the town to find some better signal for his Personal System so he can jump forward to the next stop, he sees a group of snickering kids leaving an alleyway. A bit curious, he passes by the alley and barely manages to see through the pouring rain and spot a trembling figure on the floor. Of course, PIDW was never meant to be a happy or forgiving world, so SY is not surprised at the idea that some kids were bullying a smaller kid, though it still makes him upset.
He kneels close to the child and turns off 'Ghost Mode', pulling out an umbrella from his inventory (yes, System staff ALSO get an inventory, no one wants to have to carry aroung those big ass scissors), covering him from the rain. The boy is shaking from the cold, and even if SY can't check the boy's identity (since his system is still buggy), he reasons the probability of him coming into contact with an important character is very small, and even if System staff aren't supposed to interact with characters, he limits himself to at least getting the boy out of the rain.
Luo Binghe later wakes in a bench underneath a small shop's roof, covered in a thick cloth, having no idea how he'd gotten there besides the vague dream (or memory?) of a strangely dressed person patting his hair and taking him into their arms. He notices the rain has stopped and he's perfectly dry. Shen Yuan, seeing the kid seems to be doing well, finally jumps to his next location.
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It doesn't take long for SY to figure out where he is when he loads onto the next mission location, in fact, he's almost certain he'd recognize the bamboo forest and calm, almost dream-like atmosphere of Qing Jing Peak anywhere. Seeing there that Qing Jing even exists in the first place, he deduces Binghe is still not emperor, so this time he makes sure to not be seen by any characters. It also doesn't take for SY to find his next target, as a commotion behind him catches his attention.
And oh, if he isn't familiar with the scene. A few older looking disciples push around a smaller looking boy, while a girl insistently shouts for the leader of the older disciples to stop. SY barely managed to appreaciate how Luo Binghe looks so cute as a child before (who he assumes is) Ming Fan snatches rips an amulet out of Binghe's neck. It's quite the heartbreaking scene to watch live, poor Binghe fighting for the only remaining piece of his adoptive mother without even knowing he's destined to never see it again. SY's Personal System may be buggy but it's still functional enough to detect if SY has a direct impact on the main storyline, so SY is basically forced to stand still and watch.
Though, since he had a clear view of the whole scene, when Ming Fan throws the jade pendant into the forest, SY can perfectly follow the arch of the necklace and sees where it landed, which is when an idea pops into his head. Distantly hearing Luo Binghe and NYY frantically searching for a necklace they'll never find, SY spots where the fake jade glimmers high up on a tree brench, though it's glimmer is distorted by the distinct sight of a glitch corrupting it's form. If SY were to follow standard procedure, he'd just have to bring out his Sheers and snip the necklace out of existence, but looking at it... Would it be so bad if he debugged the necklace the longer way?
Besides, if Binghe has the necklace or not, it's not like this one item is going to interfere with the major story anyways. SY isn't stopping Binghe from falling into the Abyss, he's just... Returning a lost item to it's intended owner.
Later, after an exhausting afternoon of what seemed to be searching through every nook and cranny of Qing Jing Peak's surrounding forest, Luo Binghe goes back to the shed he sleeps in utterly defeat and feeling strangely hollow; that is, until he opens the door and finds a new, thick blanket neatly folded in the middle of the shed, way too clean to be anything he had previously owned, and atop of it, his precious jade pendent, sitting there as if it never even dissapeared. Luo Binghe distantly notices that nobody that visits the shed ever lets the door closed after they visit.
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The third location SY goes to leaves him no time to acclimatize, as he's immediately attacked by a beast, and only after (struggling to) kill it, does SY notice the unfortunate situation he was placed into: the Immortal Alliance Conference. By this point, he's already figured out his Personal System is most likely using Binghe's energy as Protagonist to make up for the energy it can't use due to it being partially corrupted, and the energy it needs to save up so SY can go back to the System's head quarters, so it really wasn't a surprise that he would be sent to this specific plot point, but dammit can't he avoid having to be near the place where his favorite character is thrown into hell??
And, well, there's also the problem that a beast attacked him, which meant it saw him, which meant his Ghost Mode was also glitching out, and after fiddling around which a half functioning System interface, it seems that the presence of the virus here is stronger than the other places, though still not the biggest chunk. Truly, just the cherry on top of his situation that he'd have to scurry around and somehow manage to not bump into anyone.
As is his luck, as SY tries to head closer to where his System is signaling the glitch's presence, other monsters continue attacking him, which besides slowing him down a considerable amount, it also causes the risk of him being picked up by the people watching the Conference through the Spirit Eagles circling the area, which is the last thing he needs.
Eventually he goes to the closest spot he can to the glitch, but a snapping sound behind him sends him into full panic. A person stands behind him, which leaves SY wondering how he managed to miss someone sneaking up on him like this. "You seem to have dropped something." the person says, and SY eyes immediately fall to his body, scanning himself to what he might have lost, and his hand basically flies to his throat when he notices the tassle that is usually nestled there is missing. He quickly turns around, only to come face to face to the golden protagonist, mister Luo Binghe himself.
Binghe tries interrogating SY as to what he's doing, sneaking around the supposedly sealed off Conference grounds, and SY, in his panicked state (slightly fuelled by a fanboy-induced craze) tries to fumble for excuses, but only when Binghe finally understands that the feeling he gets when looking at this strange person is an undeniable sense of deja-vu and tries asking SY if they'd met before, a loud rumblind shakes the ground: the Abyss has opened.
SY feels even more panicked, cause what this means is eventually, not only will he be discovered by Luo Binghe (his supervisor is going to kill him), but he could possibly be discovered by Shen Qingqiu, of all people! He doesn't get too much time to think about his grand escape however, as a piercing shriek comes from the Abyss rift. Right, how could he forget about the Black Moon Rhinoceros Python? And-- Oh, of course! Of course the damn thing would be virus-infected object!
After teaming-up with Binghe, the both of them manage to subdue the monster long enough that SY managed to snip it, though while they both catch their breath, SY belatedly realizes he just helped Binghe fight with the monster he was supposed to fight. Alone! The monster who was supposed to break his demonic seal! And, like clockwork, he can distantly hear what can only be SQQ's hurried steps through the forest! FUCK!!
With no other option, and Binghe now wanting to continue his interrogation, SY hurriedly start to walk towards the Abyss rift, frantically giving Binghe tips about what he could do in the Abyss to have an easier time, though when he catches a glimpse of green robes between the trees, SY types something on a floating screen and jumps backwards, Binghe letting out a shocked scream. Unfortunately, the protagonist won't be able to do nothing about the seemingly insane and way too familiar man who just jumped into the Abyss, as a rustling sounds behind him, and he's met with a newly regenrated Black Moon Rhino.
SY feels horrible about spawning a new one after Binghe just finished fighting one, but the story must continue, and with his Personal System finally free from most of the virus corruption, SY leaves one last gift as an apology and warping away before hitting the Abyss' ground. Later, when Binghe wakes up at the bottom of the rift after being pushed by SQQ, the first thing he sees is a qiakun pouch, full of useful items and tiny note at the bottom that reads 'Sorry!'
Pt.2
Pt.3
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thargelalia · 29 days ago
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Comrade Red Hood
jason todd x fem!reader
patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support
-> 3k words
-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive
-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him
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“Are you upset?” 
“Yes.” 
“…is it something I did?” 
“Not everything’s about you.”
Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”
“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”
Silence.
“Sure you’re not mad at me?”
“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 
“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”
“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, but I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 
Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.
Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.
Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 
Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 
At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 
A five hour nap. Nice. 
Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.
Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 
The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.
“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 
He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”
You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 
His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 
There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 
No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.
Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.
As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.
“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”
You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 
Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 
Isn’t that so cute? 
After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.
“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 
You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.
“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“
You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”
“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”
“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”
You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.
“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 
“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 
As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 
“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”
“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 
“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 
“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 
Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”
“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.
Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 
Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 
Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 
Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 
Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 
There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 
“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 
“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 
“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”
He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 
Devious bastard.
Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 
“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 
Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 
But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 
Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 
And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.
There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 
One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 
Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 
“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.
At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.
First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 
You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.
This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 
Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 
Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”
You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.
“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 
While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 
“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.
“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”
“Jason.”
“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”
“Jason.” 
He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.
“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”
You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”
“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”
“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.
“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 
“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 
“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 
He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.
“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 
“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”
“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 
Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 
“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”
“You’re such a dork.”
“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.
“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 
“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”
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thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33
feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!
this is where i got the dividers
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supine-ly · 2 months ago
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misunderstandings incoming…
fanart for Existential Crisis Mode, an absolutely amazing fic written by @luciaintheskyainthi seriously this fic has me waiting on hands and knees for every update it’s so good
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eyeheartboobiez · 2 months ago
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nicknames that bruce + the batboys would call you
warnings: sexual themes in jason’s part, fem!reader a/n: just sumn slight. enjoy😁
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⁎⁺˳ 𝒷𝓇𝓊𝒸𝑒 ミ
❀ bruce grew up wealthy so he would definitely call you something more on the classy side
❀ things like darling, angel, dear, my love, etc.
❀ he also has a habit of referring to you as “my wife” (because he’s possessive asf)
❀ “sorry guys, i really can’t stay for another drink. i’ve got to get back to my wife.”
❀ “you said these shoes were dior? oh, im sure my wife would love these.”
❀ on the flip side, he also really likes referring to himself as your husband (one might say he does it for the ego boost)
❀ like whenever you too are meeting someone for the first time, he'll introduce you first and then only introduce himself as "your husband"
❀ because why should someone care about him, a mega rich billionaire, when his lovely and radiant wife is standing right next to him?
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⁎⁺˳ 𝒹𝒾𝒸𝓀 ミ
❀ dick would definitely be the type to call you something super lovey-dovey and over the top
❀ sugarplum, honey bunches, buttercup, (and if he really wants to get on your nerves,) shnookums
❀ he knows it’s lame, but he genuinely doesn’t care
❀ since his love language is acts of service, you tend to hear a lot of "let me get that for ya, honeybun"
❀ or something like “hey sugarplum! im on my way home from work, you want me to pick up anything?”
❀ or even "don't worry about dinner honeylove, lemme take care of things tonight."
❀ regardless of how annoying it is, you can't help but love his teasing nicknames for you
❀ like you two are that annoying couple that everyone loves can't stand seeing at the function (i know valentine's day hatesss to see yall coming)
❀ off topic but if the two of you had a kid together, i imagine him nicknaming your daughter ‘love bug’ (AWWW)
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⁎⁺˳ 𝒿𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃 ミ
❀ despite his thick exterior, jason’s a lover boy at heart
❀ he’d call you stuff like babe, doll, sweetheart, hon, y’know all that cheesy stuff
❀ most importantly though, this boy lovesss to call you mama
❀ like for example, he usually likes to greet you with a casual "hey mama, you doin okay?" followed by a quick peck on the check
❀ or if you're being goofy trying to get him to feel better, he'll probably say something like "c'mon mama, cut it out" as a smile inevitably blossoms on his face
❀ alongside this, he also has a weird kink thing for calling himself papa
❀ either “thatsss it sweetheart, come to papa” or “let papa bear handle it, ‘kay? you just sit down there and look pretty f’me.”
❀ you have absolutely no idea where he got it from because jason swears up and down that he's never done it until he got in a relationship with you
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⁎⁺˳ 𝓉𝒾𝓂 ミ
❀ while tim is such a sweetheart, so his pet names for you would most definitely reflect that
❀ sweets, pretty, baby love, cutie; simple stuff like that
❀ also, let’s not forget that this boy is a certified LEWSER, so that also shows within you guys’ relationship
❀ he sometimes calls you pookie (he’s chronically online…)
❀ he'd probably be up texting you at 2am (because why wouldn’t be be up at that time) and is like “hey pooks u wanna check out this new italian place i found? i saw that they serve a few of ur faves”
❀ he also has a nasty habit of referring to you as dude or bro
❀ you'll often get random tiktoks from him throughout the day like "bro look this is totally us" or "me & u fr🥹"
❀ sure it's corny but the sentiment is sweet so you don't really mind
❀ a lot of people think the relationship you both have may be a bit odd, but neither of you care (and that's all that matters <3)
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forza55 · 1 year ago
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"the hottest thing a man could do is drive one-handed, palming the stirring wheel."
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greenglowinspooks · 4 months ago
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Honestly I think the fics where Danny’s a Kryptonian have a lot of potential, so here’s me throwing my hat into the ring
Danny was born a human. He was born to two loving (though slightly neglectful) human parents in the painfully mundane state of Illinois.
Then, he died, but he didn’t do it right. He became a Halfa; too alive to be a ghost, but too dead to be human.
Then, through strange, uncontrollable circumstances, that changed as well.
He had been heavily injured, missing a large percentage of body mass, and was at the cusp of either dying fully or just fading from existence.
(Perhaps it was an ordinary fight. Perhaps it was the GiW, or his parents. Perhaps it was a simple accident. That didn’t matter now.)
He fled, phasing through the ground, trying to bury himself as deep as possible.
(Perhaps he didn’t want to be unmasked in death. Perhaps that was already too late, and he just wanted his body be able to rest in peace.)
Unfortunately for him, he was in Metropolis, and ended up in a secret genetics lab below the earth.
Danny detransformed, completely exhausted, falling onto a table covered in different labeled specimen containers. He closed his eyes, and prepared himself for what would happen next.
And… nothing.
Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes.
Danny sat up, brushing off the foul-smelling liquid from the specimen jars, petri dishes, and assorted vials.
He felt…fine.
No, better than fine. He felt normal. Healthy.
He felt like he wasn’t missing most of his internal organs anymore.
Danny looked down at his stomach, and saw that the wounds that were killing him had completely disappeared.
(The blood blossoms, if there had been any, were still there, but they no longer hurt. At most, they itched a little, or maybe just tickled a bit.)
He wanted to question what in the hell had just happened, but he didn’t want to jinx it. He just quietly changed back to Phantom, going invisible and phasing out of wherever he had found himself in, ignoring the loud alarm system that had begun to blare when he broke the samples on that table.
Life mostly went back to normal after that.
If, like Danny, you ignored all the physical changes in a valiant effort to remain in denial that something was horribly wrong.
His skin was tougher, now; he didn’t get scrapes or cuts, even when he accidentally fumbled a knife while trying to cook. His ghost form was stronger, too; he was barely knocked down by his old rogues anymore.
He could fly, even in his human form. Though, admittedly, the flight was much different. It was like using a muscle he hadn’t known existed beforehand. He didn’t just ignore gravity or wind resistance, though he felt more graceful in the air now than he ever did as Phantom.
There were more powers popping up, lasers and cold breath, x-ray vision and super strength. His lungs and heart were larger, and he could handle temperatures much easier. He didn’t have to transform to handle the pressure and cold of space anymore.
His reaction time had improved, becoming much faster than ever before. His senses were much stronger, and he had even seemed to gain a sense of electric fields, like a shark.
The only thing that separated him from a Kryptonian was that he had developed electrokenesis, which he had never seen any of them use on TV.
So, surely, he was fine.
Everything was normal, he hadn’t been transformed by alien DNA in a sketchy lab, he had just had a really weird and specific metagene activation.
Clark Kent, Kal-El, was panicking.
It had been around a month and a half since a particularly brutal fight between Intergang and an unknown assailant, and it seemed that Intergang was determined to draw out whoever had scorned them.
Their method of doing this, of course, was trying to level the city.
He and Jon were doing their best to stop them, but with both Kon and Zor-El away on their own business, it was difficult.
And by difficult, he meant almost impossible.
Slowly but surely he was driving them back, but not without massive amounts of damage to the city, especially with only Jon on dedicated rescuing duty.
He was distracted, trying to draw a group away from a heavily occupied building, when a projectile hit him in the back of the head.
The world spun for a moment, and then it went black.
(It was, probably, then, some sort of Kryptonite-metal alloy. Intergang at its finest.)
He woke slowly, forcing his eyes open. He felt like he had been hit by an eighteen wheeler.
Clark jolted up, preparing for the worst.
To his shock, though, the city hadn’t been reduced to rubble while he was out.
Jon seemed to still be working on evacuation, either unaware that he had went down or forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.
Then, a lightning-quick figure flew into view, and Clark’s mind went blank.
He thought, for a moment, that Kara was back. But, no, that wasn’t right, she was supposed to be off-planet for another week or so.
Besides, this new figure didn’t move like her. They were lankier and more slender, and they flew quicker than any member of his family.
Their powerset was different, too; they focused mainly on using blasts of ice and electricity to drive enemies back, only occasionally using their strength or lasers—ones which came from their hands instead of their eyes.
He had woken up at the tail end of the fight, it seemed. The remaining Intergang members were fleeing from the mysterious metahuman.
They stayed in the sky, motionless, watching them leave.
As if they could sense him staring, they turned.
They were small, still clearly young. Probably around Kon’s age, or maybe even younger.
Instead of the colorful clothing he had inherited from his family, the stranger wore black and white clothes which looked similar to a hazmat suit, their face covered by some sort of gas mask.
Interestingly enough, instead of the S-shape crest that he was so used to seeing, the stranger wore the letter D on his chest.
Kal’s heart sped up.
From up in the sky, he heard the stranger’s heart, on the left instead of the right, speed up in return.
But before he could say a word to them, they sped off, disappearing into the deep blue sky.
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justaz · 5 months ago
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balinor giving merlin the ambrosius sigil and merlin carrying it around with him for years. merlin and arthur sitting around a campfire, both believing fullheartedly that they’ll be dead by morning bc like hell are they going to allow the other to sacrifice themself to close the veil. arthur giving merlin the du bois sigil as a parting gift and ensuring that merlin will be taken care of after his death. merlin biting the bullet and handing over the ambrosius family sigil in exchange. luckily, arthur doesn’t recognize the ambrosius sigil for what it is - a dragonlord lineage. BUT now he thinks merlin has noble blood and is wondering when tf he figured that out, if he ever met his father, and why he never told arthur.
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