if i cannot be better than them, i will become so much worse.
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welcome!!!!! I’m viana -> @thequeenofangst (sideblog)
╰┈➤ nineteen latina cancer 𖤓 caffeine addict uni student jude duarte's seneschal keith kogane’s wife current hyperfixation: fire emblem three houses
fan favorites
When She Sees Me j.t.
Melt into the kiss d.w.
hot off the press
Forget-me-not k.r.
Don't Touch and Drive j.t.
ana's adored archive
The Prophecy of the Stars t.d.
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please be kind on my blog, i do not tolerate any homophobia, racism, islamophobia, xenophobia, hate speech, or anything else along the lines of that.
That ‘comment on your a03 work’ email hits like a line of cocaine every time. unmatched dopamine increase. shoutout to everyone who leaves a comment on fics. you deserve the world
pinterest tag game: lyrics, colour, character, place, outfit, aesthetic.
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this is about to be so basic and expected of me but my favorite book is the queen of nothing/tfota series. that whole series has crack in it for me, but I ADORE the ending of it. usually i hate the way that trilogies end but from beginning to end i love it. in QoN too you get a really good look at Jude's character. she still has that anger toward cardan because of what happens at the end of wicked king but she does love him. the ending they get together just means everything to me. and i love the scene she has in the forest fighting madoc. i just love that whole book, it's peak. wicked king is a close second for me though. i would explain more but i don't want to spoil it LMFAO. ANYWAY THANK YOU FOR READING MY RANT!!!!
Pairing(s): conner kent x jordan!reader, dad!hal jordan x daughter!reader
In Which: being on the roof during an alien invasion really isn’t a great idea.
Info: two uses of y/n. allusion to injury. a little bit of angst. reader imaginatively describes an unlikely scenario in which they die. reader is stressing hal tf out. 791 words.
This is probably a stupid thing to do, you think to yourself as you hurry up the stairs of your apartment building, glancing at the grainy livestream on your phone every two steps. A few minutes later and you’ve finally made it to the last landing, pushing open the access door to your roof and heading outside.
There is, unsurprisingly, no one else around at the moment, but it’s not like a lot of people went up to the roof anyways; and they certainly didn’t during the middle of an alien invasion. You, however, were not currently experiencing the same level of concern as your neighbours, considering you’ve brought your binoculars.
The battle’s focused a few blocks away, and even without your binoculars you can see a green Optimus Prime-looking construct; no doubt one of Kyle’s creations. A look down at your phone shows that the livestream’s still going, someone closer to the area recording it from their window for the world to see.
It’s in that instant that an unfortunate sequence of events occurs. You watch your screen as something gets knocked into and bounces off of a building and goes flying off camera, in the direction of… your apartment building. Your eyes flick from the screen to the sky.
You’re starting to think the universe really hates Jordans.
You don’t get hit with the weight of impact. Just a whoosh of air that, if you weren’t already crouched down, would’ve knocked you off balance. You raise your head from your arms, blinking at the person in front of you, a chunk of something held above them.
“Hi,” He says, a slight smirk on his face, though his eyes show concern. “I’m Superboy.”
Your eyes drop to the insignia on his chest. “I can see that.” You glance back up at the concrete in his hands. “Are you gonna put that somewhere? Preferably not near me.”
“Right. One second.” He’s gone and back again before you can blink, holding his hand out to you. “You alright, uh…?” He trails off, realizing he doesn’t know what to call you.
“Y/n.” You say, offering your name as he helps you up. “And I’m still here, so I’d say I’m”—you catch sight of a nearing green glow and let out a nervous laugh—“in big trouble.”
Kon opens his mouth, a barrage of questions on the tip of his tongue—though he doesn’t get the chance to ask them, watching as Green Lantern stops short of barrelling into you.
You try not to think too much about the expression on your father’s face as he checks you over for scrapes and bruises. It’s an expression you’ve only seen a few times in your life, the most prominent memory of it from when you were eleven and your flu symptoms stuck around for a little too long.
When he sees you’re okay, his face shifts, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. You think you’re in the clear when he presses a kiss to the top of your head, but that assumption goes out the window the second he makes eye contact with you.
Hal squeezes your shoulders, gently shaking you as he bellows out a question. “Are you insane?!”
Ohh, Kon thinks to himself as the realization hits. You’re that Y/n.
You let out a little huff as you reply to your father’s (albeit rhetorical) query. “Dad, I’m fine. This guy”—You make a vague gesture towards Kon, who’s still hovering a few feet away—“caught the thing.”
“I have a name,” Kon interjects, though neither you nor your father pay any attention to his comment.
“He wouldn’t have had to if you were inside where you’re supposed to be.”
“Inside? Like, inside the building made of concrete with a bunch of windows that could break when something gets thrown at them and the shards could possibly embed themselves in my skin and lead to my untimely death?”
“You—” Hal pinches the bridge of nose, muttering something about alien invasions, children and grey hairs before looking back at you. “Stairs.”
Kon, who’s been, for the most part, silently observing the conversation looks between the two of you in confusion. “Stairs?”
You’re ready with another protest, but the look on your father’s face says not to push it. “Fine.”
“Good. Go. Now.”
“I’m going!” You head towards the door, pausing at the entrance to look back. “Hey, Superboy?” You watch as Kon perks up at the sound of his moniker. “I like your jacket.” With that you turn away, the door shutting behind you.
Hal turns his head to the side very slowly, eyes narrowing as he spots the grin spreading across Kon’s face. “No.”
jason todd never indulged in gossip
“you’re fucking with me”
“honest to god”
why would he? it was immature and ill-mannered to talk about someone’s life! their decisions are their decisions
“she slept with him. in his office”
“yup”
... at least that's what he liked to believe in
jason gave you the most baffled look you’ve ever seen on his face. it made you snort and wave a hand at his face. “hello? earth to jason”
immediately, jason blinked and snapped out of it. both of you were sitting on the couch, your legs sprawled on his lap and his hands idly tracing your knee.
“wait wait wait—" he slightly shifted his body to face you, the traces on your knee stopping as his large, warm hand just rested flat on it. “let me get this straight. you’re telling me that nancy—"
“uh huh”
“the same one who tried to get your promotion months ago--"
“that’s her”
“was caught sleeping with your boss at his office—"
“not caught, per se.”
“whatever” jason waved it off and continued. “and to top it off, she’s married to drew for— how long?”
“8 years” you hummed, scooting closer to him and biting your bottom lip to hold back a laugh from the look on his face as he was processing this new information you gave him. and when it did, he just sighed and shook his head, his fingers now resuming the slow and lazy circles he traced on your knee.
“sweetheart, your office environment is crazy” you could still hear how he was still slightly bewildered from the bombshell you just dropped on him. he was also confused as to why HR wasn't involved already
“hey, it pays the bills” you joked, lifting a hand to run through jason’s soft hair in that slow and gentle manner that always had him melt into your touch. “plus, at least there’s something to keep me entertained while i work in boredom”
“you know you can leave your job and i can take care of everything, right?” jason reminded you— for what felt like the millionth time—but you just smiled softly and nodded. “yeah i know, but how else am i gonna come bearing news to you?”
“…touché. i still need to know why carol and jesse aren’t talking to each other”
now that you couldn’t hold your laugh for. the wide smile on your face and your laugh softened jason’s eyes, a smile of his own appearing. his hand slipped beneath your knee to pull you close, the other hand cupping your face as he pulled you into a kiss
you could practically feel the smile on his face turn into a grin, and it made your smile grow as you kissed him back. it was a kiss of quiet contentment— slow, familiar and overflowing with the kind of affection that only came from loving someone for a long time
his hand remained cradling your cheek, his thumb lazily brushing across your skin with a small hum slipping out from your fingers combing through his hair
slowly, both of you broke the kiss, foreheads leaning on one another with nothing but pure love and adoration for one another
“so how was your night?” you asked, now laying your head on his chest. he just hummed, shifting his arm to drape over your shoulders and keep you close. “it was fine”
a beat
“…so bruce was basically being annoying like always and—"
okay maybe jason indulged in some gossip. keyword—some
Summary: Jason being a yapper and sometimes a ragebaiter towards you.
pairing: Jason x reader
tags and warnings: yapper x listener, also kind of ragebaits you at the end though I don't think I wrote that portion well,got this idea in the middle of the day and here it is, not too happy with this but anyways ,maybe OOC,
wc: 1.3k
When people look at you and Jason, they'd assume it's you who talks more — you who always has a slight awkward smile on your face like a reflex mechanism while Jason has his lips pressed into a thin line, green eyes glaring, tall and bulky with tattoos peeking through his shirt. But the truth was far from it. In fact, no one really believed you when you said Jason was the talkative one of the two of you.
Maybe because it was only with you.
Sometimes he'd lay his head on your lap, hands moving around as he explained the plot of some old Hollywood movie he found in the depths of the internet, or sometimes it would be about how the author could have made the plot twist better. Sometimes when both of you are meandering around the streets of Gotham, he'd tell you some tidbits about the places or about a specific dish cooked in a restaurant. Sometimes it would be when you were doing your skincare routine at the vanity, all while Jason was lying on the bed behind you, huddled in blankets with his hair all around the place, yapping about how his brothers did something wrong or about a dumb criminal he had caught last patrol.
You liked hearing him talk.
The way his voice changed its pitch according to what he was talking about — sometimes hushed, sometimes boisterous — comforted you, like a heavyweight blanket during the cold winters. All your worries would wash away as you listened to him talk about literally anything. Hell, sometimes it would help you sleep after not being able to do so for a while.
It had always been like this since your childhood, when you and Jason would spend hours talking about school.
But things had changed.
Jason had changed after coming back from the dead — angry, annoyed and frustrated, all hiding a deep layer of hurt. You couldn't blame him, not after all he went through.
It had taken a few months for him to start talking like he used to , without any annoying remarks every few seconds. You knew it came from a place of hurt and fury.
Now you were here, after four years of being together, as Jason rambled on and on about something he witnessed while getting you a bagel from the cafe across the street.
"The guy acted so immature —" he huffs. "Almost like a five-year-old child crying to his mother."
You hummed, fingers threading through his hair. He looked beautiful, always did. There's a moment of silence, nothing but the sound of the overhead fan filling in the space. You don't notice, too immersed in memorising his beauty.
"Do I speak too much?" Jason asks, eyes gazing at the floor below you. It surprised you just for a minute before you cupped his cheeks, fingertips dancing around the scars on his face. It reminded you of a moment years ago, when you both were thirteen, playing around in the lush gardens of the Wayne manor. He had asked you the same question after an incident that had occurred at school, where your teacher had pointed out how Jason had made even the most introverted kid at school — you — talk during class.
You remembered how blue eyes looked onto the green, hands fiddling as he waited for your answer with bated breath.
Years later, though everything has changed, nothing has at the same time.
You whisper the same words you did years ago.
"I love hearing you talk, Jay. It's my favorite sound."
Of course, loving hearing Jason talk didn't mean he never found ways to annoy you. All of them were silly, nothing that could really hurt you, but they did a good job of annoying you.
It's been a few weeks since that day.
It was two in the morning when the thud of boots resounded against the walls of the living room. Jason had expected you to have gone to sleep by now, only to find you sitting on the couch, face illuminated by the glow of the laptop screen. Your eyes were squinted, nose scrunched as you switched through various tabs.
You were busy typing, not even turning round at the sound of Jason's arrival. Jason knew you didn't like being disturbed when you worked, so he decided to take a shower before approaching you. Minutes passed by, and Jason had changed into his sweatpants, hair wet and droplets sliding across scarred muscles, yet you were as still as a statue, eyes glued to the screen.
"Baby, you need to sleep." Jason murmurs, hand over your shoulder, as he slides next to you. Tiny droplets sink into the cotton of your shirt as you shrug his hand off, back hunched, trying to finish the assignment that was due in two days.
"Not today, Jason."
"Well, it's actually tomorrow because it's past 12." Jason snickered, giggling to himself but there was no reaction on your face. It was almost three AM now, and he could see your eyes starting to droop, though you still typed.
Jason was a strategist at heart, so what better way than to use his rage-bait techniques to get you to sleep.
"chi-HUAH-HUAH"
See there were few specific words, when pronounced in a certain way had your vein pooping off in your forehead and this just happened to be one of them, that Jason was very well aware of. It was the intonation of the word that irked you — the initial low pitch transition to immediate high pitch.
There's a pin drop silence in the room, as you try to take a deep breath before typing again to complete the assignment and not stare at the godly man standing in front of you with absurd sounds slipping past his lips.
"Chi-HUAH-HUAH," he raised his voice again, moving behind the couch. You did not have to turn to know the teasing grin carved on his face.
"Chi-HUAH-HUAH, "Jason repeats.
"Jay," you mumble, continuing to type even as your concentration wears down every minute.
"chi-HUAH-HUAH"
"Jason."
"chi-HUAH-HUAH"
"Okay, that's it, I'm going too—" you place the laptop on the couch before running behind as he leaps towards the bedroom, looking back at you with the same grin. "Jason, you idiot, wait."
Only his glorious laughs resound in the apartment (your neighbours would complain the following day). An involuntary smile curls at your lips at the sounds before you try to grimace to show your annoyance.
Your shared bedroom was at the end of the hallway. Once you enter the dark room, large hands tackle you from behind to the soft plush of the bed, pulling you in close against his chest. His green eyes gleam under the moonlight flittering through the curtains.
"Jason, stop. You know I hate you saying that," you say, slightly punching his bicep, to which he only tightens his arms around your waist.
"I know, baby, I'm sorry," He mutters, head tucked into the crook of your neck. You stay like that for a minute, almost forgetting about the assignment. almost.
"Okay, let me go now." You push against his chest only for him to tug you further.
"Nope, you need to sleep." Jason looks at you, his scarred hand grazing your cheek. He knew you hadn't slept properly for the past two days, and you would fall sick sooner or later if it continued.
"No, I need to finish the assignment that's—"
"That's due on Friday. You can rest now." Jason continues, hands brushing the hair from your face.
"But Jay —"
"Angel, please," he pleads, bringing your fingertips to his mouth as he places small kisses on them. "Let's give your fingers some rest, and then I'll wake you up at seven in the morning."
"Fine," you grumble, before placing your head on his chest. "But I'm getting my revenge one day."
He laughs before tugging the comforter over both of you. It was easy to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat like a lullaby.
A/N: Hope you guys liked it. Comment on this post to join taglist.
A cozy Jinmao for consideration :) I just really like how their dynamic grows over time
This piece took 15 hours, so longer than usual by a few hours! I’m still not super confident in this overhead angle but I Really wanted to build the piece around this pose that got beamed into my head while I was on the bus home one day
