Masterlist She/Her/ 20 year old / Lesbian // Posting for fun/ Please don't take anything I say serious/ Only fluff, I'm not comfortable with posting smut/ It's been a while, so be patient about requests!/They are very welcome!
alright, i'll be the one to say it. ao3 and tumblr becoming "mainstream" did so much damage to the community and the writers. i have seen loads of videos and posts about:
1. people hating on writers and fics. writing is something we do for free and for fun. if you stumble upon a fanfic that isn't necessarily your cup of tea or you just don't like, scroll. dont read it. literally leave their page. you don't know if this could be the author's first work that they're so excited about, you dont know if the language they're writing in isn't their first language, you dont know that the writer could be a literal teen and loads of other reasons. fanfictions don't HAVE to be perfect. you write what you want to write because we do it for fun and enjoyment and we want to share that to the world. seriously, what is the wrong with that?..
2. x reader consumers getting WAY too entitled. the number of tiktoks i've seen that say "i run a strict program when it comes to reading fanfics." girl you aint running shit. this is FAN FICTION you're reading. F A N F I C T I O N. there is no denying that most fanfiction writes are beyond talented but just because you read one fanfic that exceeds your expectations doesn't give you the right to talk down on others that don't. people have their own personal writing style, their way of doing things and you talking shit on that isn't right.
at the end of the day, we are all humans, reading and writing is what we do and what we're meant to do. and for you to talk shit about a person WRITING is so insane. we are humans. not some robots that you can tell what to do so you can consume it.
i've seen so so many authors take down their fanfics and losing all motivation to write because of a hate comment. DONT LIKE DONT READ‼️
and to every author reading this, this community values your work and your contribution. we love u and, please, never let anyone's negative words have an effect on you.
please wear sunscreen!!! I've seen "fuck the beauty industrial complex" posts about complicated skincare regimens and am 100% with them except sometimes they mention sunscreen and no. no. absolutely not. sunscreen is a wonderful supportive friend who wants to keep you safe, and you should let her do it. throw out all your other cosmetics and skincare products if you want, but keep your sunscreen. and if you're not wearing sunscreen, start wearing it!!!! this is not about terror of aging, this is not about every tiny imperfection our fucked-up culture has made you feel insecure about, this is about protecting yourself from skin cancer. wear the damn sunscreen.
Cw: none really, mentions reader is in college, a bit of backstory. fluff, Bruce ooc, reader has a partner
The outside was a reflection of the items inside the antique shop. Old, well loved benches sat on the store’s sides as both Bruce and [reader] stepped out of the car. Finally, a day that Bruce wasn’t hounded and littered with Wayne Co. work or something happening in his Batman life. Alfred had just dropped the two off, and Bruce intended some good quality time together. Ever since he had met [reader], he’s been trying to connect with them after learning they were his kid.
Unlike when Damian was given under his care by Talia at 10 years old, they were older. Not living in New Jersey, already in the middle of college life and the transition from young adult to being out in the real world. The first meeting was awkward, not because [reader] had sought him out but because of what he had missed. Missing the majority of the milestones of this young adult who called themselves his child hurt something inside of him.
After the initial chaos of meeting everyone they stayed in the manor, explaining how they were staying in Gotham to visit family. One afternoon while they were chatting with Alfred, who they seemed the most comfortable with, they mentioned something. They had mentioned wanting to check out any antique or second hand stores in Gotham, since they loved to do those things. Bruce had just been behind a wall that connected to the tea room where they were chatting, and MAY have eavesdropped out of curiosity.
Or perhaps it was guilt of not knowing them well enough to call himself their flesh and blood. So, after giving Tim an incentive (easing up on training and patrol) he was able to find the best one in Gotham. When walking through the front door Bruce noted the paper tapped to the old wood, its contents about a warning that a dog was nearby. [Reader] seemed not to mind, in fact actually seeking out the dog first.
They cooed softly at it, letting the pup sniff at their hand before petting it. Bruce lingered around the area as he listened to the two people chat with [reader]. After doting on the canine both Bruce and [reader] started to wander around, stepping into nooks and such spaces looking at all of the different small statues or old, dusty forgotten relics. Bruce cleared his throat, making [reader] perk up slightly and turn their head to him.
“So, what are you lookin’ for?” Bruce’s voice timbers slightly, as he glances around at the different odds and ends.
“Nothing specific.” [Reader] paused for a moment, seeming to ponder their answer before speaking again. They were mainly leading him around, sometimes leaving his line of sight to look at something else.
“Dolls are…..interesting. The ones with the porcellian faces and stuffed bodies that look haunted? My style is pretty broad, though.” [Reader] said, looking at an interesting porcelain statue of a clown. It was brightly colored, a clown suit an obnoxious color of yellows and greens with a big red smile.
At one point in time while looking around the packed store, Bruce had lost them. Literally. One moment he watched them turn a corner, turned to look at something interesting, then poof. They were gone. He shrugged his shoulders lightly, going back to the ship replica that he was eyeing. They were adults, and if needed they could always do a marco polo trick to find one another. It was around 10 minutes when they ran into each other near a staircase, something in their hand.
“Find something?” Bruce inquired, taking a better look at the item as they nodded, holding it slightly out to show him.
It was a cabbage patch kid, one with a little dress with lace and frills. The dress was of a baby blue color, the hair golden brown and curly. There were a few rips and stains in it, but Bruce’s mind was already churning on how to fix it. Perhaps Alfred could sew up the cuts with an invisible ladder stitch, and the stain remover at the house was pretty strong. Overall, it was in good condition. He gently took the tag that was tied around the wrist with a simple white string, reading the price as $25 before letting it go with a small nod.
“Yo-”
“It looks like my partner.” [Reader] quickly said, adjusting their delicate hold they had on the doll. They spoke quickly, as if they needed to explain their reasoning for picking it up in the first place. Bruce gave them a look that seemed to say, ‘oh really?’ as he watched them turn to put it back.
“Ah, ah, no.” He said, shaking his head as he put his hand delicately over theirs. “If you want it we’ll get it.”
Bruce said, already sensing how this would go. [Reader] seemed to have this vibe about them, how money wasn’t something that easily came to them. He noticed the callouses on their hands when they first shook hands when meeting. How she interacted with others, sometimes a small slip of a “server’s voice” coming out unconsciously before going back away.
It was clear with those and other things that they knew how to work hard, and was a hard worker even too this day. In turn it made Bruce want to provide for them more, not wanting them ever to worry about expenses. For this, it was just the first. His hand extended to the space behind them, another room and a staircase leading up.
“Behind you or up?” Bruce inquired of them.
The two decided to head to the back room, browsing more of the wares before they headed upstairs. They had spent a while before heading to the checkout. [Reader] had grabbed a few small statues of cats along with the cabbage patch kid. Bruce had found something he liked, a porcelain statue of a Robin on a branch. While the cashier tallied up the total, they were chatting up the Bruce Wayne.
“And who is this lovely person?” They inquired, snapping you out of you spacing out on a shelf nearby. Blinking owlishly you muttered a small “huh?” before Bruce took over.
“Just someone important to me. Keep the change.” He said, already grabbing the bag of items and placing a hand on your lower back.
He guided you out of the store and down the sidewalk, the both of you entering a small cozy cafe. After putting in orders and sitting across from each other, he asked a question after taking a sip of his drink.
“This partner of yours……do they treat you well?” He asked in a serious tone. You nodded, mimicking his own action of sipping on your drink.
“They’re the best. If you’re not as stone faced, maybe you’ll get to meet them in the future.” You teased, chuckling.
You and him talked about life, mainly how you were raised and your relationship with your adopted parents. Not long Alfred pulled up in the car, picking up the both of you and taking you back to the manor. Long ago after dinner and after chatting with everyone you had retired to your temporary room, tucked into bed cozy and relaxing. Alfred was cleaning the small doll in the kitchen, delicate hands washing its soft body and hard faceplate. You laid in your bed, doomscrolling while the covers were up to your shoulders. The manor was quiet. And for the first time coming here, you started to feel a bit like you were home.
Someone PLEASE write a yautja x reader fic where the yautja for some reason is on earth and somehow accidentally ends up in a hands on scare escape room that reader is going through with friends! Maybe reader gets split up and is like "wow, your costume is so good!" to the literal Yautja alien thinking its a scare actor!
Cw: Ermmm catboy x reader, reader is gender neutral, really fluffy, not really an oc but also an oc? Honestly catboy stuff has been on my mind a lot and catboy go brrrrr
A familiar tune rouses you awake from your sleep. Confused, you shifted, eyes still closed as the sun shines softly through the windows. You can feel the slight heat on your arms, along with a warm body next to you. After a few seconds, the noise starts to irritate you slightly. Groggily your eyes slowly peel open, still heavy with lingering sleep. Yet, when you open them, they’re assaulted by a fluffy appendage. Your partner’s, Olly.
It was an odd habit of his, he swears he has no control at night. His tail always ends up wrapped around something of yours, this time it was your eyes. Feeling him shift slightly his hand pats around the bed, seeming intent to shut off your alarm as well. Finally you hear it stop, his tail wrapping a bit tighter around your eyes as he shifts being you.
You feel his form spooning you from your side, chin resting on your shoulder as short, even breaths puff on your shoulder. Laying on your back you feel your hands being cuddled to his chest as if they were a teddy bear. Basically, you were being held hostage.
“Olly.” You call out, getting no response. Another thing about him, he was a heavy sleeper.
The tip of his tail flicks at the back of your head as if in mocking, he even breathes on your neck telling you that he’s not faking his sleep. You can imagine him without having to see him: his long hair tousled as it sticks up at odd angles, your faded shirt that he’s wearing riding up slightly, revealing his lean mid-drift. And that damned, pink fluffy eye mask that had the words “princess” written on it.
“Mhm…..no, stay.” He says in a sleep filled bossy tone, allowing his tail to unwind from your eyes and wrap around your neck. The end of his tail flicks playfully at your cheek as you blink a few times, finally able to see. Your eyes flutter for a moment before looking over at Olly, landing on his slightly arched form pressed against you.
“You’re so lucky I don’t have serious plans today.” You said, watching him bask in your body warmth he was leeching. He mumbled something under his breath, yet you caught the phrase “stinky mutt” in his mumbles. He was always a bit on the jealous side, and the person he was referring to was a groupmate of yours in one of your lectures.
“Jack is just a groupmate, he’s not even my friend. More like an acquaintance." You said as Olly started to rub his cheeks all over you.
You laid there, watching him as he made sure to rub every inch of your arm with his cheeks before moving on to your shoulders and neck, eventually going everywhere he can. It was part of his morning routine, marking you with his scent so others knew you were taken. You gasped at the sudden feeling of his wet, pink tongue licking your cheek in a long swipe. You were scrolling on your phone, attention to that. But now it was on him.
“You…..taste good.” Olly says simply, going back to his rubbing and grooming, his purring a steady, vibrational sound breaking through the sounds of your shifting bedsheets and the wet slurping of his tongue on your skin.
This was your life, a living cat toy for your catboy licking and rubbing you as if you secretly had catnip filling you. Would you have it any different? Nope.
Hello, Queen! Imagine RE2R Leon is on his nightly patrol, and he got called in for a car accident.
When he got to the site, Leon went to the driver who was in the accident for a statement. He moved on to the next victim - you. Leon was shocked to see you. You are bleeding from your head, and Leon urges you to go to the hospital for a check.
Will do! Not my best work, as I'm not quite used to writing this kind of thing, but I hope I did it justice!
Masterlist
Summary: Leon gets called in to assist with a car accident. There, he meets you, a college student who's concussed brain has the wrong priorities.
Call Officer Kennedy - Leon Kennedy x Reader
It’s late at night when the police radio crackles to life.
He’s been on the force for 6 months, and he’s still getting used to the late hours. The cup of coffee in the cup holder next to him is still piping hot, fairly fresh from the gas station he had just visited a few minutes ago. His head is against his hand, arm leaned up against the window. Tonight is slow. There hasn’t been too many people speeding. The recent drug bust he helped out with last month seemed to have deterred a lot of the dealers in the area. Hell, there hasn’t even been any small thefts. Part of him is happy that the crime rate has gone down. A smaller, almost ashamed part of him is almost a little sad. He’s bored, to put it plainly.
The radio turns on, snapping him out of his daze.
“Any available units, respond to a reported traffic collision at Turner Road. Two victims on scene. Conscious, breathing, injuries appear minor at this time. EMS has been notified.” Static hums briefly before the dispatcher continues. “Repeat: two victims. Non-life-threatening injuries.”
Leon’s hand is on the mic before he can even think.
“Kennedy, 7. That’s pretty close to me. En route now. ETA about 3 minutes.”
He can hear the dispatcher hum their approval. “Copy that. Report back once finished.”
His fingers shove the key in the ignition, the engine starting with its familiar groan.
With a final sip of his coffee, he’s off.
.
.
.
The car accident isn’t particularly pretty.
It’s not serious, no. Both cars are at least somewhat intact, though both show some pretty major dents and scrapes. The car at fault has the front side of it caved in by about a foot, and the victim car has its bumper pretty much torn right off. Leon’s attention is piqued before he even gets to talk to anyone, one of the EMS workers already greeting him with a wave.
“Oi, Kennedy!” The man calls to him. Leon can sort of recognize him. They’ve met a few times, during varying incidents.
He gives him a quick nod as he shuts the cruiser door behind him. “Evening.”
The EMS worker jerks his thumb over his shoulder toward the scene. “Nothing exciting. Fender bender. Nobody launched through a windshield. Figured I’d break your heart early.”
Leon snorts quietly. “Appreciate it.”
The medic grins before lowering his voice conspiratorially. “One of them’s crying though.”
A pause. “…Badly hurt?”
The guy immediately shakes his head. “It’s not life threatening, but she’s definitely got a concussion. She’s pretty out of it. Keeps insisting that she’s fine and that she needs to get to the library. Think you can talk some sense into her?”
With a nod, he’s already stepping towards the car.
Sitting in the driver's seat is a young woman. Around his age, wearing a soft jacket and a decently comfortable pair of pants. Your eyes can’t quite focus on him, flitting about his form like you’re not sure what’s there.
“Hey. You alright?”
He already knows the answer. What he isn’t expecting is for more tears to start streaming down your cheeks. For a second, he just freezes.
Not necessarily because people crying bothers him, no. It doesn’t. Six months on the force and he’s already seen enough to know people cry for all kinds of reasons. He just… wasn’t expecting that.
Your face crumples immediately. Not dramatic crying either. Not panic. You just look devastated.
His entire posture softens automatically.
“…Okay. Hey.” His voice drops immediately. Gentler. “Don’t do that.”
Your eyebrows pull together. “…Do what?”
The words slur together a little.
Okay. Yeah. Concussion. Definitely.
Leon crouches slightly beside the open driver-side door, keeping himself in your line of sight. “Cry.”
That apparently makes things worse. Your lip wobbles.
“Oh.”
You blink at him slowly. Then nod. Then immediately start crying harder. Leon internally regrets every decision he’s ever made.
Okay. Cool. Good job, Kennedy. You’re excellent at this.
He clears his throat awkwardly. “…Sorry. That came out wrong.”
Your eyes finally land on him properly, staring for a second. “…Are you a cop?”
He pauses. Looks down at the uniform, and his badge showing on his chest. “…Yeah.”
Your head nods seriously. “…Okay.” A hand points vaguely towards the road. “I need to go to the library.”
Leon blinks. “…Right now?”
Another nod, your hand coming up to wipe at your eyes. “I- I have a paper due tomorrow. I need another source or else my teacher is going to fail me.”
He blinks once. Part of him has to remind himself that he’s a professional, and you’re just a confused girl who probably has a nasty head wound. “…Your teacher?”
You nod. Another tear rolls down your cheek. “Professor Miller. He doesn’t take late work.”
Leon nods slowly. Like this information is helping. It is not, in fact, helping.
“…Okay.”
Suddenly, your eyes snap open wider. Your head turns back to the passenger seat. “My backpack! Do you- Do you think it’s okay?! ”
Leon looks. Your backpack is sitting in the passenger seat, a little thrown around but looking relatively unscathed. Your finger points at it like someone’s holding it hostage.
“My rough draft!” You look back at him. “If I fail this class my GPA drops!”
He looks at the medic. The medic is already losing composure.
Leon decides he hates every single one of his coworkers tonight.
“I think you should take a break and head down to the hospital with me. Does that sound good?”
That is, apparently, a wrong response.
Your hand reaches for the open door, as if you’re about to force yourself to stand. “I can still make it before they close-!”
His hand is quick to grasp your arm.
“Nope.”
You freeze. Slowly, your body turns toward him.
“…Nope?”
His voice softens immediately. “No library.”
More tears well up in your eyes, frown deepening. “Why? I need to.”
A shake of his head. One of his arms is calling over the medic, waving in his direction. “Because, I think you might be hurt. You need to go to the hospital.”
“But- Mr. Miller- He- I don’t want to fail!”
His lips purse, hand placing itself on your shoulder before you can try to stand. “I know. But trust me, he can’t fail you for this. You’ve been in an accident.”
“But-!”
“No, no.” His voice is still gentle yet firm. “Look, if he tries to fail you, give me a call, okay? Just call the station. Ask for Officer Kennedy.”
For a second, you just stare at him.
“…Really?”
Leon pauses.
Okay. Maybe promising to personally fight your professor wasn’t procedure. But in his defense, neither was whatever this conversation had become.
He shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah.”
Your eyes narrow suspiciously. “…You’d do that?”
He immediately regrets opening his mouth. He hadn’t been expecting to make a commitment tonight. Still, his posture straightens, hand coming up to his brow in mock salute. “Officer’s honor.”
You stare at him for another few seconds. Then, “…Okay.”
Your entire body relaxes.
Leon blinks once.
That’s it? No argument? Oh thank god.
“Okay.”
Then you immediately start crying again. His soul leaves his body. “…Why are we crying again?”
Your voice comes out watery and offended. “I could’ve died.”
His eyes widen. Oh. Right. There it is. Your brain finally caught up. He really hopes that that’s a good sign.
His expression softens instantly.
Your hands twist together in your lap. “…That was scary.”
Leon crouches a little lower. “…Yeah.” Your eyes flick to him. He shrugs slightly. “Car accidents are scary.”
You swallow. “…I thought I was okay.”
“You are okay.”
Another sniff. “You don’t know that.”
That one makes him smile a little. “…Well, that’s why we’re sending you with people smarter than me.”
The medic nearby immediately points at himself. He just points back.
“That guy.”
The medic gives him a thumbs up. His face has a matching smile.
You stare between both of them. Then your face crumples again. “Is my backpack okay?”
The medic fully turns around because he starts laughing too hard. Leon closes his eyes briefly. Okay. Concussion. Right.
Wordlessly, he reaches into the passenger seat and grabs the bag.
Inside is a notebook. Three highlighters. A textbook thick enough to kill someone, along with approximately sixteen crumpled receipts. But, thankfully, nothing looks particularly harmed.
Leon zips it back up. “…Good news.” Your eyes go wide. He holds the bag up. “Your backpack survived.”
You immediately exhale in relief. “Oh thank God.”
You reach for the backpack immediately and hug it against your chest.
The medic is making dying whale noises behind him. He just ignores him, crouching a little closer. “Alright.”
You look at him.
“We’re gonna go to the hospital.”
You nod.
“With your backpack.”
Another nod.
“And then tomorrow…”
Your eyes lock onto him immediately. He points vaguely in your direction.
“You email Professor Miller.”
You stare. “…Okay.”
“And if he gives you trouble…”
“…Call Officer Kennedy?”
He smiles. “…Yeah.”
Your shoulders finally loosen. “…You’re nice.”
His face heats instantly. Before he can answer, The medic leans around him.
Mention of his past trauma, death, fluffy, ooc most likely
College Jason! who is the guy in the back of your lecture class, quiet. Clearly having a later start in college, yet willing to learn despite getting a late start.
VERY respectful to women, don't tell me otherwise. Holding doors (maybe being late to lectures) pulling out chairs, letting others borrow pencils ect. Talia and Alfred both taught him values before and after his death.
A mess socially, having to re-learn how to talk to others and be part of a community, academics come easy to him. He most likely re-learns by consuming media online and in movies.
You catch him feeding the cats near the library after you were kicked out because it was closed. He was trying to "pspps" a skittish kitten over, his other hand having treats.
You helped him, and he seemed awkward at first. You'd run into him along campus, giving small waves or greetings. After a while he'd return them back, and when truly comfortable he'd start initiating full conversations as you pass by.
When you just talk with him when hanging out, he's not afraid to disagree with you. If he has a different opinion he will let you know, he's not some type of yes man.
This also goes for others as well, like his friends or family. At a frat some guy tried to do shady things with a drunk girl, and he instantly spoke up instead of being a quiet watcher during the party. When the guy was just being an asshole, he finally punched him.
When he confesses, it's not something grand or flashy. It'll most likely happen somewhere he's comfortable with, like in his dorm. It just kinda slips out, and he thinks he messed up bad. He's suprised that you actually kissed him when he leaned in lol.
His suite mates actually starts to let you into the building and suite with how much you stay over at his dorm and the shared living space. And don't worry about a roommate, he has a single due to some special accommodations.(Bruce, wink wink)
Soft touches is his staple of the relationship. Could he be rougher if you wanted? Yes. Will he unprompted? No. He thinks that rough handling is for criminals on patrol(he's cut back on majorly since college), or assholes that deserve them. The soft touches would include things like his knuckles brushing against your cheek, or a soothing rub on your back while you work on homework.
Supports you all the way if you join a club. If it's a sport he's going to all of your games (if it's competitive), being the loudest one there to cheer for you. Praises all of your art if you're in an artistic club. Volunteer? He might actually join you with volunteering. Wanna just simply play video games? That's cool as well.
Very much believes in just being in the presence of one another instead of having to do an activity together. Most of the time you're both scrolling on devices, or one might be doing homework while the other works on a project/has free time. The two of you can simple enjoy separate activities while in the same room as one another.
#‘el pastel promedio tiene tres leches’ es en realidad un error estadístico. El pastel promedio tiene 0 leches. Leches Georg#quien vive en una cueva y absorbe 10.000 leches al día#es un valor atípico qeu no debería haberse contado (via @deathbycoldopen)
Just pure fluff and stuff! I've tried to put diverse hobbies :) boys may be ooc
Bruce Wayne:
Baking. Literally when you first started dating Bruce he was your taste tester(and eater). When you're making new combinations and such he's always having a taste before the batter is baked, "quality check" he would say from behind, obediently taking the spoonful of batter in his mouth. He's also filled in his clothes a lot more, gaining a bit more weight after hard patches of not taking care of himself. Alfred likes you a lot, so he blesses you with permission to use the kitchen and the ingredients in them. Often you and the older man grocery shop together.
Dick Grayson:
He loves that you go out and travel! Almost at any point you'll find out that he's canceling previous plans to go out with you. No matter if you're running a simple errand or literally going on vacation. It's not suffocating in any way. His favorite is when you two go hiking (at the nearest state park), just alone with you and nature. It helps him clear his head when he's away from the vigilante stuff, and everything that weighs on his mind. Literally hates bugs though, and often squeaks when you pick up a scary looking beetle and chase him around with it.
Jason Todd:
Board games/puzzle games. He claims that it helps him stay sharp after his dip in the the Lazarus pit. As much as he is a fan of physical strength, he's also a fan of working out his brain. Most of the time he's on his phone doing them, like sudoku, cryptogram or minesweeper. He also uses them to help de-stress after a crazy patrol night. With board games, he doesn't mind the classics such as Uno or Shoots and Ladders. He likes playing them actually, as the both of you always end up in giggles and competitive play fighting over the other cheating.*
Tim Drake:
Video games. More specifically, rhythm games. He will literally learn how to play it just to spite you, and get better at you. If you two play co-op on the same server on a rhythm game, he'll try to mess you up while still ending up getting a full combo at the least. He claims it has helped him with recognizing rhythm, and improving his hand eye coordination. I wouldn't be surprised if he got onto some leader boards with other very serious players.
Damian Wayne:
Crafting. It's something that he could stare about and watch you do for hours. Creativity wasn't something that was rewarded in the League and as he grew up, so he has his own outlet via drawing and painting. It memorizes him if you do something that requires a certain level of consistency or a steady hand. "You are very consistent.....carry on." He would say when you catch him just staring into your soul as you worked on a project. Doesn't know a thing about your supplies, but if you mention something it'll mysteriously show up in your mail box, along with other goodies.
