💌⠀𓏲⠀letter from valentine !⠀. . .
⠀he / she / it⠀˚₊·—̳͟͞͞✉︎⠀🇵🇭 🇨🇦
⠀⠀18+ years old⠀𝜗𓏲⠀fanfics + hcs + misc
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀more info below !⠀‹𝟹 ⋆˙ ࣪⟡˖
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#written by val! – fics 'n hcs i've made!
#val's recs 💌 – fics 'n hcs i luv !
#valentine's rambles – i ramble abt stuff :p
ᯓ fandoms + rules .ᐟ
dc comics + cinematic dcu, marvel comics, specific mcu characters, spider-verse movies, the arcana . . .
[ ✗ ] will not write for: nsfw/smut, kink/fetish content
[ ✓ ] will write for: x reader (duh), romantic relationships, platonic/familial relationships, general headcanons, specific gendered reader insert (neutral by default if not stated), angst
↳ message to double check if ur unsure abt ur req !
i can and will refuse/delete requests i'm uncomfortable with writing! if you have any reqs you don't think made it, feel free to touch base w/ me :]
plz talk 2 me,, i need more mutuals </3
ᯓ other info + side blogs .ᐟ
@1-800-luvmail ? — (shorter, shittier fics)
@caspianova ? — (dc oc, rp account)
@cataboliism — (dc/marvel oc, rp account)
@chicxulubimpactor ? — (side account for reblogs!)
@encodingprocess ? — (young dano riddler rp + ask blog)
@hatterings ? — (jervis tetch rp + ask blog)
@iinsectavora ? — (more dc ocs... rp account. again.)
@justicedenied ? — (dano riddler rp + ask blog)
@luvletterings ? — (side blog for other endeavours! mainly ocs!)
@outofsix ? — (dc oc, rp account. SOMEONE STOP ME.)
@penny-plundering ? — (i got too silly with it.)
@snowflaming ? — (snowflame rp + ask blog)
@soopermanz ? — (comic ramblings and all that)
@sweetheartisms ? — (dc oc, rp account)
𑣲┆" when you're lucid, you're the sweetest thing " ⭑.ᐟ
「 tws + notes: gn!reader, romantic relationship, unedited, potentially ooc, very vague mentions of stalking, allusions to the reader's previous bad relationships, reader isn't used to getting nice things (sigh), oz being down bad (as he should) 」
↳ ft. (reevesverse) oswald cobb/the penguin
author's note: i'm back, playing with formatting (thank you @//pixopix the GOAT), and brainrotting over this man shamelessly. what a beautiful world we live in. i wish i could be one of those fic writers who drop batshit irl lore to explain their absence but i like mystery too much. (+ most of it is uninteresting stuff me being sad/burnt out/scared of writing).
ANYWAYS! hope you guys like this guy as much as i do. i've always wanted to write for him. also! peep the song. half of my fics are based off of my playlists. ooh you wanna ask me for song recs sooooo baddd....
"is… is this what i think it is?
part of you can't help but be suspicious.
you want to ask about what happened, now that he's randomly showing up at your doorstep bearing gifts — heavens know that oz isn't beyond material apologies. instead, you push the questions aside for now, carefully taking the box he's holding out to you.
"might be, doll," oz says, attempting to be casual. yet he can't help but smile, thoroughly endeared by the fact that you seem so excited. no, the way your hands tremble slightly as you hold the present doesn't escape him. it's adorable, the way you can hardly contain yourself.
your movements are so slow and cautious, it's like you're afraid of tearing the pretty mauve wrapping paper. it takes every bit of patience in oswald's body not to intervene. when you've finally managed to pry it open, you freeze.
inside is the very beautiful — and terribly expensive — piece of clothing that you've been eyeing for a while now.
now, you hadn't actually thought of owning it, considering it's price, but oz had taken note of the way you had longingly browsed the store's online website and wishfully added in in your cart — only to do absolutely nothing about it.
he figures that this must feel like an answered prayer, getting what you want before you even mention it.
"even made sure it's the colour you wanted 'n all that," he adds, giving you a proud, crooked grin.
but instead of the instant elation he had been expecting, there's a very long, silent pause as you take it out of the box. you blink at it several times, holding it with an expression he can't exactly read.
really, would it kill you to react. a hug? a kiss on the cheek for gratitude? maybe something a little more?
"oz. ozzie, no way." a nervous laugh escapes your lips as you gingerly set down the box with it's contents. "…i can't take that."
blinding confusion hits him, near tangible in intensity. oz's focus moves from the rejected gift to your suddenly shy expression.
"what? why?" he questions immediately, immensely disappointed in your refusal. and himself. "you — you not likin' it or something? baby, i thought you were all over this thing."
"well, yeah, i— i was—" you stammer, fidgeting with your hands nervously, "but... oz, don't you think it's a bit..."
you let the unsaid hang in the air.
he scoffs, as if knowing exactly what was about to come out of your mouth. leave it to you to be economical, even when you have someone like him willing to spill his wallet at your command.
"what? i can't spend money on my baby?" he asks, the expression on his scarred face somewhat irritated. not at you, of course not you — but the fact you just can't just accept it.
taking from others, as oz learned, is the most natural phenomenon in the world for people. a common language, a natural instinct — but to you, it's a completely foreign concept.
"it's not that! it's all very sweet, believe me, i just... i can't take this." you're now refusing to look him in the eyes. "you gotta understand me, i just can't."
oz leads your gaze back up to his, calloused fingertips tilting your chin up. his voice drops, hushed — as gentle as he can muster. "...is it where the money's from? that's what's scaring ya? c'mon, talk to me."
"no," you blurt, a little too quick.
that's a whole other conversation, one which you are not well equipped for at the moment. you gnaw at the inside of your cheek, trying to find the proper words. in searching to say something, your gaze wanders again, back to the box that you've hastily set aside. the fabric really does looks nice in person...
"am i really allowed?" you finally muster, your voice meek and hesitant. he's never heard you so unsure.
"are you allowed—?" oz repeats it like he's halfway offended. "christ, baby, i got it for ya, didn't i?"
he sighs, his display of exasperation wears into something softer.
oz isn't unfamiliar with your relationship history. from the little bits and pieces you've mentioned in passing (and some he's dug up himself ), he's had some choice words — amongst other less than passive ideas — for the bastards. still, he's never actually done anything to them, on behalf of you: the strangely sensitive sweetheart who can't seem to comprehend being treated nicely.
oz has never felt more strongly about making them pay than now. who the fuck taught you to ask for less?
instead of verbalizing his grievances with all the assholes who had you and clearly didn't deserve you or treat you right, he attempts a different approach.
"c'mon, doll. at least try it on. gotta show me after i went though the trouble, yeah?"
you open your mouth, preparing to say no again, but all it takes one glance at oz — the way he's silently begging with you— which gets you forcing yourself to silently nod.
you can't ever really put up a fight when he has that look in his dark eyes. in spite of your internal confliction, you find yourself relenting, stepping aside to let him through the door.
"that's it, sweetheart," oz grins, grabbing the box before heading in. "not so hard to let good things happen, ain't it?"
Can you please do btas mad hatter headcanons that are fluff? Thank youuuu
a/n: sure thing anon! fluffy hcs coming up! for more fluff I do also suggest reading my SFW alphabet I did for him here
BTAS Mad Hatter Fluff Headcanons
- Jervis sends you many, many love letters while he's in Arkham. I wouldn't be surprised if Arkham Post Office had to cap his outgoing mail.
- You're not sure how, exactly, but he somehow even manages to send you flowers too…
- This man has a countless list of date ideas; picnics, strolls, cozy nights in, fun cute activities…You name it.
- Jervis' favorite date idea however has to be the picnic dates though. He loves rowing the boat to a secluded little area, basket of food in tow on one arm and your arm around his other arm…
- Definitely hears wedding bells after the first date and they only get louder as the days go by.
- Sometimes he will try to wake up before you do, so he can watch you sleep…you look so sweet and peaceful beside him--its hard to resist the opportunity.
- He will also try to wake you up by making your favorite hot beverage whether its tea or coffee (if you like neither of those things he will still try and think of something sweet and savory to give you)
- One of his favorite places to rest his head is in your lap…your gentle and caring touch caressing his blonde hair as you read to him or talk to him.
- This man lives for kisses. Kisses and kisses galore. Your temple, your forehead, the back of your hand, your cheeks, and of course your lips…he wants it all.
- The same goes tenfold when you kiss him…man grows addicted to your affections and will think something is wrong if you do not return his affections or don't show any on your own accord.
Hello! I was wondering if you could recolor https://www.tumblr.com/pixopix/806095603356581888/can-i-please-get-a-red-one-for-this-if-no-then in baby pink please?
Coming right up (:
Please credit @pixopix, likes and reblogs are appreciated!
Check out the other colors of this set. Send asks for recolors, hex codes are useful! (:
Harley Quinn x fem!reader (but no gender specific language used)
| Synopsis: You need a makeover, BAD. Your girlfriend Harley is quick to the rescue. 1.6k words (Fluff) *reader has hair that can be styled in a blowout style!
| A/N: Just when I tell myself I'm gonna continue on my wip's, I find myself at Tim Hortons and feel inspired to write something completely different. Can I blame the new donuts to deflect from my laziness? Alas. Divider from the amazing @lady-ashfade!
Your hair was greasy, your nail beds brittle. Your skin was dryer than Two-Face’s left cheek.
None of your clothes were flattering anymore, looking both too loose and too tight somehow all at the same time. Maybe you were being too harsh with yourself, something you absolutely blamed on the cold and dark months ahead, but another pep talk just wouldn’t cut it today. Not when you felt like a subpar species of goblin.
You sigh heavily, preparing for the inevitable. There was no other choice.
Defeated, you head towards the high-pitched giggles coming from the living room, the musical cadence seeming more and more like the sound of a siren with each and every step you took. You follow the laughter until you finally see her, happily munching away on some cereal, attention fully focused on the stolen television that took up half the wall. Like most mornings, Harley was laughing to herself as she watched yet another cartoon rerun, scratching Lou’s mane and explaining to him why the physics of that world was so much better than your own.
She looks up when she notices you standing there, invisible question marks popping up around the cheap curlers in her hair.
“Harley…” you brace yourself, “it’s time. I need a makeover.”
The responding squeal was deafening.
~Hair!~
You barely had time to put on some pants before she’s hauling you out the door, rollers scattering around the floor as she rips them out in an excited frenzy. Despite the chaos and last second touch-ups, she looked like she popped straight out of a magazine. It was utterly unfair.
“Harley wait, I didn’t mean right this second, I look horrible!”
“Who cares, we’ll buy you new stuff today anyways! C’mon!”
Sometimes you forgot the woman spent her free time wielding around a huge mallet and kicking around grown men and bats alike. With the way she was gripping your poor hand in hers and dragging you across the street, now was one of those times you remembered.
“First stop, hair! To the salon!” She squeals again, smiling so brightly you can’t help but find it the tiniest bit infectious.
“Harls, I don’t even have an appointm-“
“Oh no worries, I know a gal.” She says matter-of-factly, and that’s how you end up 10 minutes later on the east side, sitting in a squeaky chair in a parlor smelling of cheap dyes and hairspray.
~Nails!~
“I can’t believe they didn’t do nails!” Harley is gasping as she takes you towards the next stop.
I can't believe they charged that much, you think to yourself, grateful that Harley insisted on covering the cost.
Your stylist had been upbeat and friendly, promising you that she was going to make you look unrecognizable, and truthfully that she did. Despite the after-smell of hairspray and the results of a deep conditioning that still burned your scalp, you couldn’t deny it, you did look pretty good. At Harley’s suggestion, you had gotten a small trim and gloss, and a what she called a ‘Hollywood blowout’, the style to end all styles. While you weren’t totally convinced you were giving Hollywood per se, you could agree it was miles ahead of what you had entered with.
“We should have brought the boys…” she muses, bringing you back to the present.
You’re entering a fancier part of the shopping district now, towards someone Harley had adoringly called her ‘nail specialist’. Whatever that meant.
“I love her to bits, she’ll fix you right up. Nobody does a manicure like she does; I can’t believe they’re able to squeeze you in!” She’s gushing, and you feel more and more nervous the further you walk.
“You know, I don’t need anything too fancy,” you begin to say, but she’s shaking her head and interrupting you before you get a chance to finish.
“Honey, you need somethin.” She huffs, and you can’t help but let out a shocked laugh; leave it up to your girl to be so blunt, and somehow still endearing.
It was much less endearing when said specialist shared the same sentiment.
You give an apologetic look to the nail tech as she does a once over your brittle nails, pretending not to notice the look of disapproval on her face. She’s asking you when was the last time you went to get them done professionally, and you try not to sweat when you don’t have an answer. You start looking around for Harley to escape her accusing stare.
You hoped to see your bubbly girlfriend sitting on the couches and flicking through a magazine like she had been at the salon, but much to your horror that’s not what she was doing at all.
Your eyes follow in distress as Harley gives the receptionist a roll of cash and turns to wave back at you, halfway out the door.
“Be back soon, baby!” She smiles, and before you can even open your mouth to protest, she’s gone.
You turn back to the lady in front of you and smile helplessly.
“Please help me.” You whisper, and she shrugs in a way that says I can try.
~Lunchbreak!~
You look down at your new nails, pleased. It had been a surprisingly quick visit, barely 30 minutes of scrubbing and filing, but the difference was astonishing. They looked clean and soft, like you hadn’t worked a single day in your life.
You’re out the door and about to take use your phone to find where Harley had gone, but before you even get a chance, you catch a glimpse of bouncy pigtails coming from up ahead as a crowd Gothamites begin to part like the red sea. One of her arms is waving excitedly as she notices you… the other is holding the leashes of two extremely happy hyenas.
“You brought the babies.” You sigh in surrender, and she giggles as she clumsily hugs you.
“I brought the babies.” She repeats, and pats her belly dramatically.
“And boy was it a workout! Let’s go to that new cafe on 14th, I heard they allow pets!” And before you have time to protest, she’s already looking around to get her bearings straight.
“This way!” She cheers, and she’s off.
You hear an excited cackle as Bud takes your hand in his mouth, gently pulling you in the direction of his mistress before he too gets pulled by his leash.
~Shopping!~
You couldn’t count how many stores you had visited over the last few hours, or how many malls you had hopped from. Your little sandwich and sweet treat from the café had not been nearly enough sustenance. Had you known the workout that awaited you, you would have stocked up like a bear readying for winter.
Granted, it had been a fun day, and you were more than happy with your haul. To say you had a whole new wardrobe was an understatement, and you were very excited to have something flattering to wear from tomorrow onward. But with both of your hands full to the brim of shopping bags, and an ache in your bones that threatened to make you collapse, you knew it was time to leave.
You, not Harley. You had to beg.
“Fine…” she had sighed out, somehow still with a hop in her step and standing tall, despite what had to have been 20 bags pulling her down.
You had both left the babies back at home a few hours ago, along with a few shopping bags you had already gathered at the time. You were so thankful she had thought ahead; the thought of being hauled around by two grown hyenas on top of everything made you sick.
“Too bad we couldn’t find any spas, my face is still so damn dry...” you admit when you finally make it back home, and she giggles like she has a secret.
“You’re gonna love me~” her voice is high and singsong as she pulls out two face masks from her purse, pressing a giddy kiss to your still dry cheek.
~Facials!~
“You know, you didn’t have to pay for everything today.” you say as a touch of guilt seeps into your voice.
You’re both lying on the floor of your living room, the smell of cheese and pepperoni and ‘healthy glow’ clay masks filling the air. Bud and Lou are playfighting somewhere in the kitchen over a hair roller they had found earlier in the night, and the TV is buzzing with repetitive audience laughter from a shitty sitcom. What should have been overstimulating and chaotic, never felt more like home.
“Don’t be silly.” She scolds you, leaning over to hold your hand and give it a tight squeeze.
“My treat. Anything to make my baby feel better.”
And better you did.
~Beauty Sleep!~
Her head is on your chest. You feel the thick fur of Lou sleeping at your feet, Bud somewhere in the living room chewing on a bone almost the size of his torso. You weren’t sure what animal it even came from. You weren’t sure you wanted to know.
“Thanks for treating me to all this today, Harl.” You murmur in her hair, pressing a kiss to the blonde locks. “I felt so… ugly this morning.”
She makes an offended tsk sound and shakes her head.
“You were never ugly, baby.” She chides in a sleepy voice, stretching languidly on top of you, “Just needed a lil TLC. We all do sometimes.”
You can’t help but smile at that. You rub a few gentle circles on her back as you think how lucky you are to have such a beautiful and caring girl by your side. You turn your head slightly, wanting to kiss her in a way that says more than thank you, more than I love you, but just as you inch yourself closer to her lips, she lets out a snore that’s absolutely deafening.
Bud cackles in the other room, and you can’t help but quietly join him.
I have a question and I need your wisdom: of these characters, which is the most likely to get jealous because someone is flirting with Reader (keeping in mind that Reader is just a friend but is their secret crush)?
DC: The Riddler, Scarecrow, and Guy Gardner.
Marvel: Doctor Doom, Logan, and Frank Castle.
Which of them would risk confessing (assuming that in this scenario Reader reciprocates the feelings)?
Friend I’ll tell you right now, they are ALL getting jealous but in different ways ksksksksks
DC:
riddler: Ed will side-eye but will be muttering under his breath. Might not do anything unless you’re actively being asked out on a date and then he’s going to consider what kind of death this schmuck has signed himself up for….of course, once you’re out of sight. Then he’s absolutely going to make his move.
scarecrow: Johnathan is absolutely roiling and seething watching you get flirted with, he’ll storm right over there and with a voice like velvet utter, “My dear, I require your presence for a second” and very smoothly whisk you away. This will definitely get him to act out but in a way where he’s got to make a move on you and ask you out but he’ll do it on his own time. eventually……..
guy gardner: if you weren’t together then, you are now—Guy is barging his way over there and rucking an arm around your shoulder with a growl in his throat. Making all kinds of moves saying, “Whatcha doin sniffin around what’s mine?” As you’re blushing up a storm. If he hasn’t asked, consider this his modest proposal lol
Marvel:
Doom: Doom would never let such a thing happen in the first place, but if it were to happen, everything the poor sap who hit on you had going for him is straight down the tubes. Credit cards cancelled, social security stolen, house robbed, passport denied—all for the sin of talking to you. And you should already know Doom’s feelings—although he’s a patient man and he can wait. He will have you come to him, rather than he to you, for that is how Doom operates.
Logan: Logan’s eyes are smoldering over the end of the cigar that he’s gnawing around his teeth, embers alighting the incandescent fury on his face. He’ll let the chump get in about ten words in before he sidles on over and stands next to you for the rest of the conversation. Not saying anything out loud, but making it clear with how close he is, the way he’s got his eyes honed on your wannabe suitor—they’re not yours, bub. They never will be.
Frank Castle: Frank is also of similar dour countenance, watching as the whole thing goes down. But here’s the rub—you’re looking for him with your eyes, a silent plea for escape and help. Who is Frank to say otherwise? He’ll mosey on over without a care for social proclivity, interrupt your suitor’s boring story, “Hey, bud—nice meetin’ ya. We’re outta here,” guiding you away as you melt with relief into his arms. He’ll nurture a crush to the grave, worried you’re too good for him—so you’ll have to make the first move.
that’s all I got…….hope this answered your question……….adios…….
new favourite thing is making character playlists with character relevant lyrics but making the genre of all the songs completely out of character. twee john constantine playlist. pop girly jervis tetch playlist. who's my next victim.
Wesley is so funny to me like imagine your boss is decapitating somebody with a car door and you’re IN said car just like 🙂 you got this sir do you want a wet wipe. No? Okay.
Also his fuckass loaded gun on the table. You’re working for a mob boss and your tactic was reverse psychology bro no wonder she fucking shot you 😭
writing a jervis x reader drabble to get more acquainted with how i wanna write my ver of jervis. what i wanted it to be CUTE and SWEET and based on one of the BEST love songs ever (thank you the magnetic fields) is now NOT. jervis had to be jervis and now it's weird and kind of sad and dark.
listen to me. this is my final message to you. when you are at your lowest a fictional guy will come to you and when that happens you must start putting them in situations. this is the meaning of life.
Asra seeing MC again after a long time and the sight has him in such a chokehold, he literally has to clutch the doorway and slowly sit down before his legs give out >>>
